When the Dragon Wins
Luke 21:5-38
There is a sense in which our Christian faith has its own language. Of course, Christianity is not a different language in the way Spanish is a different language. The language of faith can be spoken in English, Spanish, French, Swahili, or any other language, but it is still a different language.
Faith is a different language in that it has its own vocabulary. It calls us to think differently, to express ourselves differently, and thus to live differently. For instance, central to the language of our faith is the expectation to love people, to forgive easily, to be other-centered, to work for peace, and to practice generosity to a fault. The ordinary English of the world around us is more apt to organize our thoughts around loving things and using people rather than the other way around and to resist forgiveness in favor of advocating for revenge. The ordinary English of our lives is more apt to consider violence an acceptable way to resolve differences, to consider generosity a flaw, and stinginess a core value. Our language of faith calls us not only to see the world differently and to live in the world differently but also promises that we will experience the world differently.
There is a sense in which the principle of speaking a language appropriate to the situation lies at the heart of today’s gospel lesson. It sounds strange to our modern ears because it is written in a different language. Of course, it all has been translated into English. It is the language of faith written with the vocabulary of faith. Specifically, Luke 21 is written in a particular category of faith language called apocalyptic eschatology. Apocalyptic literature is noted for vivid images intended to warn of coming judgment. Eschatology refers to last things, a coming day of judgment, the end of the world.
Jesus is addressing an audience in the temple. “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will we great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you.” As with any different way of thinking and speaking, the vocabulary of faith must be learned. This requires study. That is particularly true of apocalyptic eschatology. Its purpose is not to serve as a guide for predicting the near future or for interpreting divine meaning into current events. The purpose of apocalyptic eschatology in Luke is not prediction.
Of course, you are free to use the Bible to predict anything you want. However, if you try to turn scripture into a sort of celestial farmer’s almanac for interpreting and predicting national and world events you will head down a road of frustration. Not only is this faith language not intended for this purpose, but human beings are just not very good at seeing the future in present circumstances. For example, in the 1940s, Popular Mechanics magazine noted that the best electronic calculator of that era weighed about thirty tons. The magazine predicted that eventually, the best scientists and engineers should be able to produce a calculating machine, a computer in our terminology, weighing only about one and a half tons. Seventy years later we have calculators that weigh ounces, not tons. Also in the 1940s, Thomas Watson, who as the Chairman of IBM, should have had some insight into the potential of the computer, said, “I think there is a world market for about five computers.” Sales of computers, as you know, have far exceeded his prediction.
Even well-informed experts cannot read the present and predict the future. The same can be said of that endless list of preachers who look at current events, read the Bible, and predict the near end of the world. Luke 21 is not language intended for prediction. It is language of hope, particularly hope during life’s most difficult circumstances.
On several websites, you can buy different versions of cartoon drawings of dragons on all types of items. One of those versions portrays the dragon resting after a good meal. This fire-breathing monster is leaning against a tree, belly distended from lunch, contented look on his face, and a little puff of smoke rising from the corner of his lips. Scattered on the ground around the dragon are all that remains of the brave knight who battled the monster — a metal helmet, the sword, his shield, bits and pieces of his now empty armor. That knight in shining armor was the main course at lunch. The caption on the picture reads: “Sometimes the dragon wins.”
The message is painful, but true. Good does not always win over evil. The righteous are not always vindicated. The guilty are not always convicted. Innocent people can die because of the reckless behavior of terrorists and street criminals. Sickness and death do not always bypass the houses of the just. Nice people are not always appreciated. Every story does not have a happy ending. Sometimes the dragon wins.
That is the point made by the gospel reading for today. To paraphrase what Jesus says in Luke 21:12-19, things are going to start to go wrong. Then things will become miserable before becoming unimaginably worse. Christians will be persecuted for their faith. They will be arrested, hauled before courts, poorly defended, unjustly convicted, and have no recourse. Your friends and family, even your parents, brothers, and sisters will turn against you and betray you. Some of you will be put to death. You can forget this notion that following Jesus guarantees blessings and good times. Christians can and will have miserable experiences. Accept the reality of this world — bad things happen to good people. Sometimes the dragon wins.
When that happens, do not wander off in utter despair, cynically quoting Dante’s imagined inscription on the gate of Hell, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.” Instead, take to heart the word of hope from Luke 21. To paraphrase the idea: When the dragon triumphs and the reality of this world overwhelms you, remember every victory by the powers and principalities of this world are temporary. Ultimately, God is in charge of human history and not the dragons. There is reason to hope in the midst of otherwise hopeless situations. As Jesus puts it, when you are “hated by all because of my name… not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls”.
On occasion, the dragon wins, but that victory is temporary. I don’t know how it happens. I don’t think it is important when it happens. I do, however, believe it does happen. Never lose hope. God will never abandon you. Thanks be to God. Amen.