Hope Requires Imagination - 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17; Luke 20:27-38

Two occasions in the last week had millions of people around the world tuning in on their televisions. One was the United States election coverage on Tuesday, and the other was the Great British Baking Show final, which aired here in the U.S. on Friday. In case anyone hasn’t watched one of these yet, I won’t spoil the results of either. But I do want to share something I found very interesting. While these two televised events might have had little in common in terms of content, I noticed a strange similarity in how we, as consumers of information, responded to them.

Take the elections, for example. In the weeks leading up to the big day, the internet saw an uptick in engagement with social media posts predicting the outcome. Apparently, psychics are having a cultural resurgence on TikTok, and when all the most popular accounts agree on a future prediction, the whole internet seems to get on board.

I personally have never put much stock in commodified clairvoyance, and even less in social media. But this trend seems to have taken root. I remember hearing about it during last year’s presidential election, as well. I am fascinated by how many people are willing to put their trust and hope in what seems to me a statistically bad bet. But I will not judge anyone’s attempt to find hope in a weary world.

We are certainly not the first generation to look for good news in, shall we say, unconventional places. We heard from Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians today, and they were a community of new believers in Christ who had become convinced that the end of the world was upon them. Ten years ago, this might have been difficult to relate to, but these days, we use end times rhetoric all the time. I’m grateful to know that we are not the first generation to experience the communal sensation of doom.

The Christians in Thessalonica looked at the world around them and saw misery and destruction, and so when local, amateur prophets told them that it was because angels and demons were engaged in a holy war and the fate of the world hung in the balance, they believed them. I don’t blame them. The political division in our nation sometimes makes me feel torn in a similar way.

As you may have noticed, Paul’s response is complicated. It requires a lot of extra-biblical knowledge and a heavy dose of nuance to parse out. Paul has a lot to say, most of which we can unpack later if you’re interested in puzzles and have several hours of spare time. But the two most important points he makes in today’s passage are that it’s not the end of the world yet, because God still has work to do, and that the key to surviving this and any difficult age, is to listen to the right kind of news.

With Paul’s exhortation on my mind, I asked a friend about why she values social media trends so much, including psychics. She told me that some days are so discouraging that when she gets home in the evening, scrolling on her phone in search of any shred of good news is all she has to cling to. I was disheartened to hear this, because I thought, surely there’s something about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ that’s worth clinging to!

But then I remembered that after watching the series finale of Great British Baking Show last week, I said, out loud, in the presence of witnesses, “now that this show is over, what else is there to bring me joy this fall?” Whether it’s a social media psychic or an amateur cake decorator, we are all clinging to whatever joy we can find. So today, Paul is sharing some ancient and valuable wisdom: not all news is created equal, and when times are hard, our sources of hope matter.

I think one of the reasons that we find it easier to turn to headlines and current, breaking news, than, say, the Good News of the Gospel, when we need encouragement, is that there’s an element of thrill in searching for something brand new. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, because we know that God is always making things new. But we tend to think of Holy Scripture as something very old, perhaps a pinch outdated, and maybe even a little stale.

In today’s Gospel passage from Luke, Jesus begs to differ. He is approached by some Sadducees, who we’re told don’t believe in resurrection. At this point in the narrative, Jesus hasn’t even died yet, so I don’t think we should judge the Sadducees too harshly. I think their queries are actually quite reasonable. We know what marriage is like in this world, they tell Jesus, but what is marriage like in the next one? It’s a fair question for the uninitiated.

As he often does, Jesus gives a very surprising answer. In the age to come, he says, there is no marriage. In fact, most of the structures that uphold society now will be absent in the Kingdom of Heaven. That new world will be so unlike this one, we can barely fathom it. It is almost beyond our imagination. But not quite. And this is good news, because hope requires imagination.

False prophets preach hopelessness, because they do not have any imagination. They cannot envision a world any better than they one they find themselves in. Paul and Jesus give a warning today: don’t be fooled by unimaginative, hopeless news. A wild new world is coming. It may look unfathomably different from everything we know, but it will be filled joy and peace and perfect unity with God. That’s the news we should be clinging to. Clinging to any other news, no matter how good it seems, will inevitably fall short and the meager hope it offers will slip right through our fingers.

What does this mean for the future of social media psychics? Should we replace all of our screen time with Bible study? Not necessarily. I think clinging to the Good News of the Gospel looks more like renewed commitment to one another and our common life and prayer and worship. This is where we practice that uncanny Kingdom work and share those glimpses of joy that sustain us through adversity.

Even in the midst of our worst trials and tribulations, there are joyful glimpses of the coming Kingdom all around us. But in order to notice them, we have to broaden our imagination and be open to and ready for surprises. This is the message of the Gospels and it is anything but stale. It’s compelling, and it holds more promise than any modern headline we could read.

As we look towards the beginning of a new church year, a new calendar year, and a new church building, all of which are worlds we cannot yet fathom, our time together will expand our imagination and strengthen our hope. We will help each other tune in to the Good News that will carry us through whatever the next year holds, which is that God’s Kingdom is breaking in among us, and it is better than we could possibly imagine. Amen.