December 11th, 2021
Matthew 24: 1-14
24 As Jesus came out of the temple and was going away, his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. 2 Then he asked them, “You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” 4 Jesus answered them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 5 For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Messiah!’ and they will lead many astray. 6 And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars; see that you are not alarmed; for this must take place, but the end is not yet. 7 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places: 8 all this is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
9 “Then they will hand you over to be tortured and will put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of my name. 10 Then many will fall away, and they will betray one another and hate one another. 11 And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. 12 And because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. 13 But the one who endures to the end will be saved. 14 And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations; and then the end will come.
Endings and Beginnings
“Not a stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down … what will be the sign of your coming and the end of the age? … There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains … and then the end will come.”
If I’m honest with myself, the vivid imagery offered at the beginning of the twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel is disturbing for me to read. And yet, in the middle of these images of the world coming to an end is the phrase “birth pains,” which catches my attention as a mother of two.
I remember throughout my pregnancy being in utter awe of my body and all it was equipped/designed to do/create to bring to life. I learned early on that it was best to pay attention – eat before I became hungry, rest before I collapsed, marvel when it struck me, and take it one day at a time. It was hard work, and I wasn’t exactly a spring chicken.
Finally, the day arrived and I spent the first half of it in disbelief it had really arrived. As it was my first, my body too seemed slow to pick up on how the “process worked.” My birth attendant got me settled in at home with plans to check in early in the morning; things picked up hours after she left and it seemed I was ready to head to the hospital. At the hospital the nurse declared, “you aren’t in active labor,” which meant there wasn’t a bed in the hospital for me; I returned home. Back at home, a little more time passed and things intensified, so we trekked back to the hospital where I was again yet told, “you aren’t in active labor.” Suffice it to say, it was a long, long night.
Early in the wee hours of the morning, I could take it no more. We set off for the third time to the hospital. We must have found every crack in the road between our house and the hospital, and each one felt like running into pothole after pothole. I was well over 24 hours with no food and could barely ride across town without shrieking, much less walking. My arrival at the hospital was not a quiet affair; nor did the nurse need check to make sure I was in “active labor.” And, I finally got a bed.
I remember being in such pain and asking my birth attendant upon her arrival, “Is it going to get worse?” “Yes,” she said, to which I begged her for an epidural. This is the same person I rated at 9.5 out of 10 on a scale of the importance of birthing naturally to me just the previous week. “I can’t do this! I can’t do this!” I told her in a state of panic while looking her square in the eyes as our faces were nose to nose. It didn’t get any better. Eventually with her help I figured out how to endure through the birth pains because there was no stopping them. They just kept rolling through my body with less and less time in between - this baby was coming one way or another and my body and my life would never look or be the same. My world, as I knew, it would end.
And yet, the end was really a beginning.
I think back on my experience of carrying two babies in my womb during the season of Advent and the coming beauty the “birth pains” set in motion. I think back and remember all the excitement, the fear, the questions – can I really do this, the tiredness, the waiting, the risk and the dependence on others, not to mention the physical pain and messiness. All of these “birth pains” and more were required to bring my little ones into the world. There was only one way through.
And it is not only how my children and every other child has entered the world since the beginning of time, but it is how God - Emmanuel, God with Us - chose to enter into our world to dwell with us.
And our world has never been the same.
May you endure through the “birth pains” encountered this season of Advent, trusting in the new beginning that awaits you in Christ.
The Rev. Stephanie Jenkins
Rector, St. Andrew’s, Lawton
Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma