Sun, Nov 17, 2019
The work of hope
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13 by Craig de Vos
Series: Sermons

The American poet and publisher, Edwin Frank…

is also the editorial director of the New York Review of Books Classics series.

That’s right!

He edits and publishes book reviews of literary classics.

Admitting that the idea seemed an “unlikely” endeavour when he first floated it…

he attributes its success to the fact that people…

in seeing reviewed a book that they have read and loved…

might be encouraged to pick it up again;

or to look at the other books that are reviewed that they haven’t read.

When asked, “What makes a book last?”

He replies: 

“I am looking for a book that still has the power to surprise…some sense of lived experience that is still palpable…some sense of historical horizon and occasion: the notion that, though this was another time, we can see our own time in it as well”.

And yet, he is extremely wary of the notion of ‘relevance’.

“The best art is often powerfully irrelevant”, he suggests...

Instead: 

“I prefer the idea of currency…A book that has currency puts our present concerns in a different but distinct perspective”.

 

Personally–– 

as a social historian with anthropological leanings––

I find somewhat problematic…

his notion of reading a text from a distant time and place and “see[ing] our own time in it as well”.

That’s doing an injustice to their world…

their culture…

and their time––

as well as ours.

As I attempt to model––

and as I suggest––

we need to try to understand what the author was saying to his readers…

within his time, culture, and circumstance…

and, then, see if we can recover something from that…

which speaks to our time, culture, and circumstance.

But, that said, I like Edwin Frank’s idea of ‘currency’––

of something from a different time and culture speaking to us…

and putting into perspective…

something that we are facing.

And yet, as a social historian, it’s also important to admit…

that there are things written in the past that––

as hard as we try––

simply are irrelevant;

and no longer speak to us and our context…

even with creative reconstruction.

 

On first encounter, this morning’s reading from Second Thessalonians would appear to be such a case.

As I mentioned last week––

despite what it claims––

this letter was not written by Paul but comes from a much later time…

perhaps a generation or so after Paul lived.

It was written to a small church that was under pressure––

whose members were suffering because of their decision to follow Christ…

and to turn their backs on the gods of their city and Empire.

As a means of coping with the stress and suffering that they were experiencing…

they had latched onto the idea––

which Paul had earlier taught them––

that Jesus would return… 

to gather all his faithful people together…

to vindicate them… 

and to set all things right.

And, although we don’t know how…

or why…

some of them had come to believe that Jesus had already returned.

It’s in that context, that the author writes the passage that we heard read this morning.

It appears that…

not only have some come to believe that Jesus had already returned…

but, in keeping with that belief, they had stopped working.

After all… 

in early Christian thought… 

the return of Jesus was associated with a renewal of the world––

a world in which the blights of hunger, sickness, and poverty would be eliminated;

a world where people would live in harmony and peace…

with each other…

with creation…

and with God.

It was thought that it would be a reversal of ‘the Fall’: 

a return to a utopian paradise;

a return to life in the Garden of Eden. 

Given that–– 

in the Genesis account––

labour and toil was part of the consequence of ‘the Fall’ and the expulsion from Eden…

it’s not an unreasonable presumption… 

then…

that Jesus’ return and the renewal of creation…

would include freedom from the need to work.

In many respects, it’s a logical outcome of their belief that ‘the Day of the Lord’ had already occurred.

 

And yet, it was very problematic for that small church community.

At the outset, the writer encourages his readers to “keep away from believers who are living in idleness”.

Unfortunately, that’s not a very helpful translation.

The Greek would be better translated as those who “are living in disorderliness”.

First of all, it’s the disorder…

the disruption… 

which their behaviour is causing that concerns him.

Added to that… 

he describes these people as being “busybodies”

meaning, that they were interfering in the lives of others––

no doubt trying to propagate their beliefs…

and encouraging others in the church community to follow their example…

and to stop working.

But, implied in all of this… 

of course… 

is also the burden that their behaviour was placing on the rest of the community––

that… 

in giving up working… 

these people were, effectively, expecting to be supported by the community.

They were taking advantage of the work of the rest…

while eschewing the notion of work itself.

The writer, then, exhorts them all to keep working––

and to strive, at all times, to do “what is right”. 

He’s no less fervent in his expectation that Jesus will return––

and soon––

and will put all things right.

For him, the Christian faith is centred in hope.

But, for him, hope in God–– 

and hope in God’s future––

doesn’t just speak to the world…

it also speaks from within the world.

It is a hope that awaits fulfilment;

but it is a hope that has already begun to be fulfilled––

albeit subtly…

subversively…

almost imperceptibly––

even now.

It is the expectation of the fulfilment of what God has already begun––

and is doing––

founded on the reality of the here and now. 

For him, Christian faith is centred in hope––

but it is a grounded hope, not a wishful dream.

 

Clearly, we live in a very different world than they did.

And we have a very different culture and world-view.

As I said, at first glance, this reading doesn’t seem to speak to us…

and our situation.

We do not expect Jesus to return in the way that they did.

And we certainly aren’t giving up work because of it.

So, what relevance… 

or currency… 

does this have for us?

 

In a short while, we will be meeting to discuss…

and to vote on…

a proposal concerning this Church’s future life.

As we approach that meeting…

I would like to exhort you––

as the author of Second Thessalonians exhorted his readers––

to be people of hope…

but people embracing a grounded hope rather than future utopian dreams or visions.

And I would exhort you to cling to a grounded hope… which does not place a burden on a small community;

and does not expect others within it to labour…

or to keep on labouring…

when they have done all that they can…

or when they have no more left to give.

I exhort you to embrace a grounded hope––

a realistic hope––

which truly embodies the love of Christ for the world;

but which also manifests that love and makes it real…

for this community… 

as a whole.