The end of the world has come. The people of Ukraine, Gaza, Israel, Lebanon, and Sudan (to mention just a few) have experienced the end of the world as they had known it. Their new reality is sudden death, unbearable suffering, utter devastation, displacement, permanent fear and an uncertain future. Like most wars, the recent ones started as a quick, time-limited military operation to crush the opponent with a decisive blow. Like most wars, both sides of the conflict have found themselves bogged down in an attritional struggle with no solution in sight. Millennia of futile armed conflicts have taught the collective “us” nothing, and that’s truly depressing.
Today’s gospel reading offered a strange mix of fear and hope. On the one hand, it foretold “the time of distress [when] the sun will be darkened, the moon will lose its brightness, the stars will come falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” On the other hand, it presented a triumphal, victorious return of Jesus: “the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory; then […] he will send the angels to gather his chosen from the four winds, from the ends of the world to the ends of heaven.” This is only a short and not too representative extract from a long speech attributed to Jesus. It contains predictions of natural and man-made disasters, personal persecutions, betrayals and so on. The speech was triggered by a shocking comment made by Jesus in answer to an innocent remark on the greatness of the Temple in Jerusalem: “Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” (Mark 13:2) Some time later, when Jesus “was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” (Mark 13:4) Jesus’ prolonged response was a speech in the apocalyptic style.
It’s a genre relatively common in the Bible; today’s first reading is one example, and of course, the final book of the New Testament is titled “The Apocalypse.” Those written forms reflected the apocalyptic mood among the populace under duress, repressed in one way or another with no obvious way out of their dire straits. Their only hope was some sort of cataclysmic divine intervention, overpowering the mighty oppressor and liberating the oppressed. This style appealed to a sense of natural justice where evil was punished while righteousness was rewarded; it offered a clear-cut, black-and-white, simplistic vision of the world. It was attractive because defining oneself as righteous was the only mental effort required. The apocalyptic style has never gone out of fashion. These days, it is often employed by political parties or various movements. They present the future in extremely bleak colours and offer their ideas as the only working solution to prevent it from happening.
In that respect, the so-called Apocalypse of St Mark wasn’t traditionally apocalyptic. Although Jesus predicted natural and man-made disasters as sure to happen, he rather reassuringly added: “Do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. […] This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” (Mark 13:7:8) Jesus didn’t offer any means of preventing such unpleasant and dramatic events from happening. Instead, he urged his disciples to be watchful and prepared: “Take the fig tree as a parable: as soon as its twigs grow supple and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near. So with you when you see these things happening: know that he is near, at the very gates.” In other words, observational skills combined with critical thinking were essential attributes for his disciples to acquire and use. Why? The clue was in the opening of Jesus’ apocalyptic speech: “Beware that no one leads you astray.” (Mark 13:5) Then he clarified: “False messiahs and false prophets will appear […], to lead astray, if possible, the elect.” (Mark 13:22). We see such “prophecy” being fulfilled all the time. In the colloquial meaning of the messiah, leaders and demagogues of all colours keep popping up all over the world and offering simple solutions to complex problems. They usually do it in a dramatic, apocalyptic style to make their simplistic ideas look good. Many get fooled for a simple reason: as social creatures, we have a strong herd instinct and tend to follow strong leaders of the pack instinctively. Then, such people replace critical thinking with group thinking and slogans. How else can we explain genocidal wars in predominantly Christian countries like World War II Germany, the 1990s Balkans or Rwanda?
Thanks to developments in technology and science, we have become relatively skilled at dealing with natural disasters to a certain extent. We can prevent them from happening, mitigate their impact, or deal with their aftermath. The only area that seems impervious to similar attempts is man-made disasters. Unfortunately, there will be more ends of the world on individual and communal levels as long as hatred drives people to resolve their conflicts by violence, bullets and bombs. Perhaps one day, we will all genuinely apply Christian ethics to our human interactions and end violence. That would be the end of the world as we know it, and I’m looking forward to seeing it. “But as for that day or hour, nobody knows it, neither the angels of heaven nor the Son; no one but the Father.”
