02 December 2007

Stolen Time: What Advent Can Take From You


Plenty Coups, the last great chief of the Crow nation, looked over at Frank Linderman, a Montana cowboy who had befriended him. “When the buffalo went away,” he said, “the hearts of my people fell to the ground, and they could not lift them up again. After this nothing happened.” The two men were talking in the 1930s and Linderman was trying to get Plenty Coups to talk about how his life had changed since the end of the Indian Wars. When he wrote about the discussion later on, Linderman said, “Plenty Coups refused to speak of his life after the passing of the buffalo, so that it seems to have been broken off, leaving many years unaccounted for.”[i]

The old chief had lived a long, full life. He was born in 1848 when the Crow were a proud, warring people living on the high plains in what is now Montana and Wyoming. When he was young the plains were filled with buffalo and Crow warriors were feared by other tribes and by the advancing white settlers. When he died in 1932 he and the remaining Crow were living on a reservation, totally disconnected from the life they once lived.

In 1921, Plenty Coups was invited to Washington to attend the ceremonial burial of the Unknown Soldier. He was wearing beaded buckskin clothes, carrying a coup stick, which the Crow used to carry into battle, and wore a magnificent eagle-feather headdress. As the ceremony ended Plenty Coups did something entirely unexpected. He took off his war bonnet and laid it on the tomb alongside his coup stick. It was a symbol of the death of a way of life for his whole people. He was burying them.[ii]

If anybody could have been prepared for this, it would have been Plenty Coups. When he was nine years old he went out on a vision quest, something many young men would do as rite of passage in his culture. He went off to a mountaintop by himself and prayed to God for a dream. The first night he had no dream so he chopped off a piece of his finger to encourage a vision, something that was not uncommon in his culture.

The second night he had a dream. In the dream he saw buffalo, huge herds of buffalo, coming out of a hole in the ground. They filled the plains as far as he could see in every direction. Then in an instant they were gone. The young boy, Plenty Coups, in his dream looked around and all he could see now were a few antelope. Then more creatures started coming out of the ground. Creatures like buffalo were again coming out of the hole but these were different from other buffalo. They were spotted and when they lay down on the ground they looked different. The noises they made were different, too. They were not buffalo. To Plenty Coups they were like strange animals from another world.

Then Plenty Coups saw a great forest of trees. At the base of one of the trees was an old man that the young boy understood was him at a much older age. Then a storm came and the Four Winds went to war with the forest. Every tree in the forest was knocked down except for the one under which the old man sat.

The tree that remained was the lodge of the chickadee. The chickadee was not admired for his strength, but for his wisdom. The chickadee is a good listener and he never misses a chance to learn from others. It was the chickadee’s tree that remained when all the others fell.

When Plenty Coups came back and told this story to the elders of the Crow people they understood what it meant. Yellow-bear said, “He has been told that in his lifetime the buffalo will go away forever and that in their place on the plains will come the bulls and cows and calves of the white man.” The storm that destroyed the forest was understood to be the coming of the white men. Yellow bear said, “The meaning of this dream is plain to me. I see its warning. The tribes who have fought the white man have all been beaten, wiped out. By listening as the Chickadee listens we may escape this and keep our lands.”[iii]

The tribe listened to Plenty Coups’ dream. When the white men came they made alliances with them. They were able to secure a large reservation. And soon the buffalo were gone and the cattle came. The Crow still existed, but something had died. They had no framework for understanding what their lives meant in this new time. As Plenty Coups said, “After the buffalo went away nothing happened.” Or as another elderly woman, Pretty Shield, told the cowboy Linderman in the 30s, “I am trying to live a life that I do not understand.”[iv] How do you make sense of the world when everything that helped you make sense of it is gone? What do you do when you are trying to live a life that you do not understand?

This may seem a strange story with which to begin Advent but it’s no stranger than the gospel passage that we have for this day. The story of Plenty Coups and the Crow nation is not a warm and fuzzy tale of the season. But Jesus’ apocalyptic warnings are not exactly heart-warming either. Somebody forgot to tell the preacher today that Christmas is coming! Surely something is wrong when there’s more Christmas cheer in Peeble’s than there is in Franktown Church! But there’s something deeper here. There is hope and for Christians hope comes in some strange forms. Maybe it’s a candle on an Advent wreath. Maybe it’s like a chickadee in the only tree left standing. Or maybe it’s like a thief in the night.

It seems to me like Jesus was trying to get those disciples’ attention when he told them about the times that were coming. Like the Crow people they were about to experience a total disorientation. They had no idea what they were in for. These followers who had given their lives over to Jesus were about to be living in a strange new time that was not framed by who they had been but by what Jesus had done. They may have been fishermen and tax collectors and mothers and brothers before, but none of those things were going to determine who they were going to be now. “Come with me and I will make you fish for people,” Jesus said. [Mat. 4:19] “Who are my mother and my brothers and sisters?” Jesus said. “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” [Mark 33, 35] “Anyone who puts their hand to the plow and looks back is not fit for the kingdom of heaven,” Jesus said. [Luke 9:62] They couldn’t live out of who they had been. Because of the cross that Jesus died on…because of the tomb that Jesus had vacated…because of the heavens into which Jesus ascended…and because of the earth to which Jesus would return nothing was going to be the same for any of them and they had better get used to it.

So here in this 24th chapter of Matthew, just before his crucifixion, we have Jesus telling the disciples what it will be like when he returns. And the images he uses are disconcerting, to say the least. “It’s going to be like the great flood,” Jesus says. In the days of Noah people were going about their business as usual, doing the things that give life rhythm and meaning. Eating, drinking, getting married…all of those things that we still do. Little did they suspect that the whole world was going to change. It wasn’t until Noah closed the door on the ark that it was clear that something was wrong. It wasn’t until the floods came that they were hit with the realization that the lives they had been living didn’t make sense anymore. It’s going to be like that when Jesus comes back.

Then Jesus talks about his return as a kidnapping. Two people will be working in the field. One will be taken and one left. Two women will be grinding in the mill. One will be taken and one will be left. It’s going to be like that when Jesus comes back.

A flood. A kidnapping. How about a thief in the night? If the householder had known when the thief was coming, he would stand guard, but Jesus is coming unawares at an hour when you don’t think he will be coming. It’s going to be like that when Jesus comes back.

So what were those disciples supposed to do with that information? What are we supposed to do with this information? Is Jesus trying to get us to live our lives in a constant state of anxiety? Are we always supposed to be looking over our shoulder, ready for the other shoe to drop? What does it mean for him to say to those disciples and to us, “Be alert because you don’t know when your Lord will come”?

Whatever it means, it cannot mean that the defining characteristic of our lives should be fear. As Paul reminds us, we did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but we have received a spirit of adoption so that we can be children of God. [Romans 8:15-16] Fear kills. Fear saps us of life. Isn’t it fear that keeps you awake at night? Wondering if that strange new pain is something terminal? Wondering if there’s enough money in the bank? Wondering if your boyfriend can be trusted? Wondering if your kids are going to turn out alright? Wondering if you’ve done enough? Wondering if you’re good enough? Wondering if you’re acceptable in God’s sight? Wondering where you’ll get the strength to pull through? Do you know what it’s like to live out of fear? I’m betting you’ve had those nights and those days.

But what Jesus calls us to is not fear of what is to come. He did not tell us about the suddenness of his coming so that we would be afraid. In fact, the Bible tells us that we should pray for Jesus to come and come quickly. Practically the last words of the Bible are John’s words at the end of Revelation where he quotes Jesus as saying, “Surely I am coming soon!” to which he responds, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.” [Rev. 22:20]

No, Jesus is not giving us these words to strike the fear of God into us, but to tell us how to live out of hope. We light these candles because it is an act of defiant, radical hope. From the world’s perspective it’s a silly gesture. Why light a candle for Christ’s coming? The world cannot comprehend what it means for life to be determined by what God has done and is going to do through Jesus. The world may find Advent and Christmas useful. To have a boost for the economy because of the tradition of giving gifts is a useful thing for Wall Street. To have a message of generosity for those in need is a useful thing for a world in which there are people left out and looked over. Even to have a message of peace and light is a useful thing in a world disrupted and overturned by war. But the world does not have a use for Jesus’ coming again. The world is invested in the way things are. Christians are invested in the transformation of everything. The world doesn’t want to hear about the end because it sounds too much like bad news. Christians have to hear about the end because they know that it is good news. The world doesn’t want a thief to come because there is too much to protect. Christians know that they need a thief to take away all those things that are keeping us from being alert and watchful and waiting and ready to receive what God has to give.

The difference is in what we expect in the end. If the end is destruction and death then it might make sense to just enjoy what we’ve got until it all comes crashing down. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die. Try to cover over the fear and anxiety and just forget.
But if the end is life…a life beyond anything we can now imagine…a life determined by God and promised by Jesus’ death and resurrection…well, our waiting may take on a different character. As the First Letter of John says, “We are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when it is revealed, we will be like [God].” [1 John 3:2] That’s why we look forward to the coming day of the Lord. The world will be turned upside down, but God’s reign will be revealed as right side up.

God knows we need a word of hope. God knows what a mess our lives are. God knows how unprepared we are to receive a savior. God knows how wounded our world is. But hear the good news: God didn’t wait until we were ready to come to us in Jesus. “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” [Romans 5:8] And Jesus won’t wait until we are ready to come back. That’s the source of our hope.

Jonathan Lear tells the story of the Crow chief, Plenty Coups, in his book, Radical Hope. He tells how the Crow people stopped doing one of their most essential dances, the Sun Dance, when they went onto the reservation. In the midst of everything they had lost it didn’t make any sense for them to do the dance anymore. The symbols of the Sun Dance were about the warrior culture that had died. But in 1941 they started to do the dance again. Only now it was done as a prayer…as when a young girl is getting ready for a heart operation, the dance is done. Lear sees hope in this.

It was important for Plenty Coups to recognize and to say out loud, “After the buffalo went away, nothing happened.” The old ways had died. But it cleared the way for something new to happen. “It is one thing to dance as though nothing has happened,” Lear says. “It is another to acknowledge that something singularly awful has happened—the collapse of happenings—and then decide to dance.”[v]

It would have been one thing for the disciples to act as if nothing had happened when Jesus died. It is another to acknowledge that something singularly awful happened in Jesus’ death and then to decide to dance because the hope of the resurrection cannot be eliminated from the face of the earth.

There is dancing to be done, sisters and brothers. There is hope in this season. And it is a hope on the horizon. Jesus is coming. Come, Lord Jesus. Thanks be to God.

Matthew 24:36-44
“But about that day and hour no one knows, not the angels in heaven, not the Son, but only the Father. For just as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Humanity. Because, as it was in those days before the flood, they were feasting and drinking, marrying and being given in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark. They did not know until the flood came and swept everything away, just so will be the coming of the Son of Humanity.
“Then two will be in the field – one is taken and one is left. Two women will be grinding in the mill – one is taken and one is left. Be alert, therefore, because you do not know in what day your Lord will come.
“Understand this, though: If the homeowner knew in what watch of the night the thief comes, he would stand guard and not allow his house to be broken into. Because of this you also must become ready, because the Son of Humanity will come at an hour when you do not think he will come.”

[i] Recorded in Jonathan Lear, Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation, [Harvard University Press: Cambridge, MA, 2006], p. 2. Referred to hereafter as Lear.
[ii] Lear, p. 33.
[iii] Lear, pp. 66-72.
[iv] Lear, p. 56.
[v] Lear, p. 153.

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