Luke 21:25-28 NRSV
There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in a cloud” with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.
The New Testament Gospels often quote Hebrew prophets like Isaiah, or at least, they paraphrase. Jesus of Nazareth, at various points in the Gospel stories, uses the words of Hebrew prophets to speak to the context in which people were living. In this Luke passage, Jesus refers to the chaos and confusion in the world, but also a breaking through of a new kind of era.
This is what is called apocalyptic literature, i.e. a writing that imagines the end of an era. It’s not necessarily the “end times” as some often refer to it. The end of the world is not a literal end like the earth exploding or a mass extinction or the planet disappearing or something like that. Save that for Hollywood and maybe The Leftovers.
Apocalyptic literature, however, is more about symbolism—that the sun, moon, stars, oceans, and land all reflect what people are feeling inside.
In this case, people are scared and worried. So nature reflects that. But Luke’s writer encourages the reader to not hide or give up. Why? Because the Son of Man [literally human one] is coming. This is a direct reference to another Hebrew scripture book, Daniel. Instead of hiding in fear, people are encouraged to stand up and raise their heads.
Luke’s apocalyptic writing is imaginative just like Isaiah. The Gospel is imagining this current moment as hopeful, redemptive, healing, and character-building—in spite of the external things all around that seem so daunting.
But in order for us to personalize this, we’ll have to do some imagining of our own. So let’s try this simple yet effective activity. It’s called lighthouse.
Visualize this: You are lost at sea on a stormy night, far, far away from the shore, in a rowboat. But off in the distance you notice a glimmer of light, leading you to land. If you row hard, you can make it. You reach the shore only to find someone waiting for you with a warm meal, dry clothes, and a place to rest.
Take a moment to draw, color, or paint an image of a lighthouse on a piece of paper or any sort of medium. Depict yourself in the image, either in the boat on the water, in the lighthouse, or wherever you choose.
Who are the people who greet you there? They are the ones who fill you with love, encouragement, and peace. They accept you as you are; they help you become a better person.
What kind of food will you eat there? How does it smell and taste? Who do you share the food with?
How soft is the bed waiting for you inside the lighthouse? How does it feel to put on warm and dry clothes after such a long, wet, and cold journey?
This lighthouse is the source of guidance in your life—a place to stand up and raise your head and look for—especially when things are confusing, tense, worrisome, or fearful. This place of rest, peace, and strength is always there; you can always return to it.
We are at our most human when we admit that things are not perfect, when we admit that sometimes we feel broken or lost. We fully embrace our humanity when we put aside all the superficial things and false appearances that we maintain to look good for others.
Everyone deserves a lighthouse within themselves. Everyone deserves to feel loved and cared for and accepted. That lighthouse exists in all of us. We don’t have to wait for it or allow others to build it for us, because each one of us is enough. We have inside of us the capacity to love and care for ourselves. When we do, we are able to weather any storm and to find that flicker of light off in the distance.
Put your lighthouse drawing somewhere in your house or apartment or room where you can easily find it. Throughout this season, return to it. Remember that imagining wholeness and hope in this moment will lead you to wisdom and strength.