Immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then will appear in heaven the sign of the Son of Man, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other. (Matt 24:29–31)
The “tribulation” to which Jesus refers is the period of the Jewish War, culminating in the destruction of of Jerusalem and the temple by the Romans in AD 70. This is Jesus’ eschatological horizon. The event will be “seen” as a fulfilment of two Old Testament hopes: the vindication of Jesus as the Son of Man who suffers but receives kingdom (cf. Dan. 7:13-27); and the restoration and consolidation of a faithful part of the people of God—the “elect”—following the catastrophe of divine judgment (cf. Deut. 30:4).
For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the parousia of the Son of Man. Then two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken and one left. (Matt 24:38–41)
The analogy with the flood suggests that those who are “left behind” are the lucky ones. The current “evil generation” of Israel (Matt. 12:39-42, 45; 16:4;23:36; cf. Acts 2:40) will experience the sudden, disastrous sweeping away of normal life as the Roman armies descend on Judea. Many will be “taken” by famine, disease, and the sword. This is the parousia of the Son of Man in the sense that it is the historical moment when Jesus “comes”, as Israel’s Lord and King—as YHWH “came” in the historical events of the Old Testament—to judge his people and establish his own rule over them.
- “Why I believe in the rapture”
Let us become like Christ, since Christ became like us.
In his own writings St. Francis does not speak of the voice from the crucifix at San Damiano telling him to ‘rebuild the church.’ He never refers to the marks on his body (the stigmata), which others associated with his profound compassion for the sufferings of Christ. Rather Francis speaks about people with leprosy as the context for his conversion to the gospel way of life, the practical experience of ‘being with’ them, and serving them. Here he found the suffering members of Christ’s Body, and beginning with this experience he participated in the passion of Christ.
William J. Short, OFM, Poverty and Joy: the Franciscan Tradition
There are certain ideas that, once introduced, tend to change how people think of everything else. This is certainly the case with the Bible. For of all the ideas about the Scripture, the most recent is the notion of “the Bible.” The word “Bible” simply means “book.” Thus, it is a name that means “the … Read More ›
why do you dislike evensong?
1. I dislike evening prayer to begin with
2. It is way too long
3. I meant choral evensong mostly, which means limited participation
4. It is way too long
5. It is not compline and so I feel bad when I get bored and fall asleep
6. The only part I like is the magnificat
To the Eastern Christian, salvation is the literal reunion of man and creation in God through Christ. Salvation is the restoration of divine-human intimacy, the joy and love of interpersonal communion, and the healing of all creation.
Jordan Bajis, Common Ground: An Introduction to Eastern Christianity for the American Christian, Pg. 230 (via hislivingpoetry)
There really is no such thing as “Christian marriage” as the term is commonly used. “Christian marriage” is a vain, romantic, unbiblical conception. “Christian marriage” is a fiction. There is no more an institution of “Christian marriage” than there is a “Christian nation” or a “Christian lawyer” or a “Christian athlete.” Even where such terms are invoked as a matter of careless formulation and imprecise speech, they are symptoms of a desire to separate Christians from the common life of the world, whereas Christians are called into radical involvement in the common life of the world. To be sure, there are Christians who are athletes and those who practice law, and there are Christians who are citizens of this and the other nations. But none of these or similar activities or institutions are in any respect essentially Christian, nor can they be changed or reconstituted in order to become Christian. They are, on the contrary, realities of the fallen life of the world. They are inherently secular and worldly; they are subject to the power of death; they are aspects of the present, transient, perishing existence of the world.
It is the same with marriage. Marriage is a fallen estate. That does not mean that it is not an honorable estate, but only that it is a relationship subject to death. It is a relationship established in and appropriate for the present age, but not known or, more precisely, radically transcended and transfigured in both the Creation and the Eschaton - in both the beginning and the end of human history.
The Bible doesn’t exist to please you as its primary audience, or to make you feel understood. It does that sometimes, but that’s not its primary role. Its job is to make you think deeply about the world, and about God, and about your role in it. Its purpose is to form you, and change you- and not just you, but the whole community in which and with which you read it. You can’t expect the Bible to do the work for you. It requires effort, and engagement, and attention. It’s soul work, not beach reading.
Appeals to tradition become deeply unhistorical when they treat doctrinal formulations, creeds, and confessions as if they were permanent features of the landscape, as natural as falling apples and the rising sun. To be deeply historical is to be open to the possibility of another Francis, another Luther, another homoousion. It is to be open to the idiosyncratic individual scholar. Newman was mistaken: To be deep in history is to be open to the possibility of Protestantism.
Once again, in the attempt to make Jesus relevant to the twenty-first century, another of his followers winds up mischaracterizing first-century Judaism. These seekers after relevance make Jesus’ Jewish context represent everything we don’t like — sexism, elitism, militarism, you name it — and then depict Jesus as the one Jew to stand against his oppressive culture. Jesus can stand very well on his own without having to make Judaism look bad; alas, some of his followers have not yet figured this out.