As a boy raised Protestant, the end times was always a popular preaching topic. But now later in life, I have come to see that there is a terrible mercy in the apocalypse… not as spectacle, not as divine vengeance, but as the unbearable intimacy of God with the unraveling of all things. Luke’s vision, for all its hope, does not flinch from the chaos of a world in labor, groaning toward some impossible birth. And isn’t this the scandal of incarnation? That the holy does not descend to rescue us from catastrophe, but enters into it, so completely that the distinction between disaster and salvation blurs.
The scholars are right, of course, in their dry way: Christ did not return on first-century clouds. But they miss the deeper, more unsettling truth: He never left. The end is always near because God is always near, not as a distant judge but as the presence that haunts every collapse, every crisis, every quiet and unrecorded death. The "Son of Man coming in a cloud" is not just an event we await, but a reality we inhabit… if we have the courage to stand and lift our heads, to see the divine in the crumbling of empires, in the panic of nations, in the addict’s trembling hands.
Wilber’s "transformative spirituality" is I think, at its core, the shock of this recognition: that the self must be shattered because the self is the last idol, the final barrier to the unbearable truth that God is not safe, not separate, but here, in the blood and sweat of a world that is always ending. To stand in the face of that is not optimism but defiance. A refusal to look away from the wreckage, because the wreckage itself is where the kingdom breaks through.
So yes, the end is near. But only because God is. And that is terror, but it’s also grace.
I like what Steve posted. I’ve been increasingly troubled by organized religion’s rhetoric about joining Jesus in heaven, as if the spirit is not here already, within each of us and in all of creation and destruction. I need a religion that inspires courage and confidence—FAITH—to keep facing and responding with love this apocalyptic time. I need to feel this spirit every day and every hour, but especially in church. I wish pastors would foster that more—that transformational understanding—instead of just translating the same old same old “heaven is coming” bs.
Carrie - Yes! In my experience, church is often not a place for transformation, even as it always carries the possibility of it, and the revolutionary seeds are there in our tradition. Miss you!
As a boy raised Protestant, the end times was always a popular preaching topic. But now later in life, I have come to see that there is a terrible mercy in the apocalypse… not as spectacle, not as divine vengeance, but as the unbearable intimacy of God with the unraveling of all things. Luke’s vision, for all its hope, does not flinch from the chaos of a world in labor, groaning toward some impossible birth. And isn’t this the scandal of incarnation? That the holy does not descend to rescue us from catastrophe, but enters into it, so completely that the distinction between disaster and salvation blurs.
The scholars are right, of course, in their dry way: Christ did not return on first-century clouds. But they miss the deeper, more unsettling truth: He never left. The end is always near because God is always near, not as a distant judge but as the presence that haunts every collapse, every crisis, every quiet and unrecorded death. The "Son of Man coming in a cloud" is not just an event we await, but a reality we inhabit… if we have the courage to stand and lift our heads, to see the divine in the crumbling of empires, in the panic of nations, in the addict’s trembling hands.
Wilber’s "transformative spirituality" is I think, at its core, the shock of this recognition: that the self must be shattered because the self is the last idol, the final barrier to the unbearable truth that God is not safe, not separate, but here, in the blood and sweat of a world that is always ending. To stand in the face of that is not optimism but defiance. A refusal to look away from the wreckage, because the wreckage itself is where the kingdom breaks through.
So yes, the end is near. But only because God is. And that is terror, but it’s also grace.
Beautifully put, Steve. There are many helpful insights here — the terror and grace of divine intimacy.
Love this idea to stand up and face the winds of life, it is just a new beginning! Thank you, love and blessings to you and all.
I like what Steve posted. I’ve been increasingly troubled by organized religion’s rhetoric about joining Jesus in heaven, as if the spirit is not here already, within each of us and in all of creation and destruction. I need a religion that inspires courage and confidence—FAITH—to keep facing and responding with love this apocalyptic time. I need to feel this spirit every day and every hour, but especially in church. I wish pastors would foster that more—that transformational understanding—instead of just translating the same old same old “heaven is coming” bs.
Carrie - Yes! In my experience, church is often not a place for transformation, even as it always carries the possibility of it, and the revolutionary seeds are there in our tradition. Miss you!