Finch and the Unknown

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

In today’s gospel, Jesus speaks of the end times. The temple will be in ruins, and there will be wars, earthquakes, and famines. Earthquakes destroy things. They break foundations that we thought were sure and stable. Both literally and metaphorically, everything that appears to be stable—pantries, communities, shrines, religious beliefs, the earth itself—all will be shaken to pieces. That which seems impervious will one day fall. That’s what the disciples learn from Jesus as they stand in awe before the great temple in Jerusalem. “Not one stone will be left here upon another,” Jesus says.

Peter, James, John, and Andrew are left particularly unsettled by these words. They find Jesus alone a bit later and pry for more information. When will the temple fall? How will this happen? And Jesus offers them more information… perhaps more than they were wanting to hear.

Not only the temple will fall… but all of it. The temple… the city… the nation… the culture… the people… all nations.. humankind… the earth itself. All will shake against itself. The end will come. “But,” Jesus adds later in Mark, “But… you don’t need to worry about that. Because you yourselves won’t see it. You will be persecuted, arrested, put on trial, flogged… killed… all of that before the temple tumbles.”

“Oh.”

“And the gospel,” Jesus says, “must first be preached to all nations.”

Illustration: Finch

This year a new movie with Tom Hanks came out… called Finch. In the movie, Tom Hanks plays a man, by the name of Finch, who lives in a time after the world has been shaken apart. A solar flare has hit the earth. The ozone has been ripped into swiss cheese. Putting your hand out into the sunlight causes burns in seconds, not hours. The outdoors have become irradiated. The crops have burned up. The cities have broken down. Society has turned against itself. And Tom Hanks is surviving this end of the world on his own. Well, mostly on his own.

He has a companion. Not a volleyball names Wilson… but a dog that he affectionately aptly calls, “Dog.” Because, as he says, when there is just the two of them… what’s the use in names?

What is unique about this story, however, is that Tom Hanks’ character, Finch, works to survive the end of the world not for himself… but for that dog. Finch, we learn early on, has cancer. Cancer caused by the rips in the atmosphere. Rips that irradiated his body before he realized what was going on. Death is a certainty for Finch—a certainty that’s not far off. His own bodily temple is about to be ripped block from block by the radiation that has infused itself in him. And Finch realizes that “Dog” will live on -beyond himself. His sole companion in life will soon be alone.

Finch cannot stop the oncoming of his own death. But perhaps there is a way that dog might not be alone in life. And so Finch begins to build and program a robot designed to endure the wastelands of the earth… not to help Finch for his final days of life… but to care for the dog after Finch is gone.

“And the gospel,” Jesus says, “must first be preached to all nations.”

The story of Finch and the dog is rather unique among end-of-the-world movies. The goal of the story is not for the hero to survive against the odds… rather it is about the hero engaging compassion and care for another even as death’s shroud encompasses him.

Questions of the End

As we consider the end, we so often get caught up in the questions of “when” it will happen or “how” it will happen. We as humans want desperately to have some sense of control in understanding these things. I think that’s why the end-of-the-world stories have been so popular for so long. And make no mistake, Hollywood is not the inventor of such tales. Every culture throughout human history has at least one story about how the end will come.

In the Hindu religion, the Earth is destroyed and re-incarnated every 4,320,000 years. According to the Norse religion of the Vikings, Ragnarok will bring an end to the world through a brutal winter. The Aztecs and the Mayans spoke of the world ending multiple times… through fire, flood, and hurricane. In our own scriptures we hear of the great flood which destroyed all life except for Noah and those on the ark with him. And we hear of an end yet to come in the books of Daniel, Enoch, and Revelation. In today’s Gospel reading, we hear of Jesus speak of an end that comes through earthquakes, famine, and war.

And again, as we see with the disciples, there is a desire for us to know “when” these things will take place. We want to know “what” it will look like. What are the signs that point to us that the end is near.

Or maybe our thoughts aren’t focused on the end of the world so much as the end of ourselves. When we receive word that we have a terminal disease, so often the next question is, “how much time do I have left?” Or if you have sat by a loved one as death comes close, a good hospice nurse will often prepare the family with some signs to look for when the end is coming near.

When will it happen? What will it look like? How much time is left? What are the signs?

These questions and more become the pivot point around which our minds revolve in the deep of night whether literal or spiritual. And our instinct becomes to survive as long as we can. To hold off that end to the last moment. To push off that which is unknown. To feel as though if we just get enough knowledge then perhaps we gain some control in this spiral toward the end.

Rethinking the Unknown

I suspect that’s what those four disciples were after when they sought out Jesus for more details about the destruction of the temple. They wanted answers to questions about the end. For them, the end of the temple would indeed be a Ragnarok. It would be that cold winter of their faith as the warmth of God’s presence in the temple would be taken. The loss of the temple would mean death not only to their way of worship but to their sense of connection to the divine.

Understandably, they wanted answers. They wanted to be in the loop of what was going on. They wanted to know more.

And Jesus offers up some answers. He doesn’t tell them “when” like they were hoping, but he does paint a picture of a future filled with destruction, hunger, and hate. The one promising caveat for the disciples is that they won’t be around for that time of destruction. And before they can breathe a sigh of relief, Jesus adds that they won’t be around because they will be tortured and executed well before that time comes.

“And the Gospel,” Jesus says, “must be preached to all the nations.”

Jesus tells his disciples that even as they face the oncoming threat of the end… of their own very personal and grizzly ends… that their calling is still to proclaim the Good News of God in word and deed to all people.

They are called not to wonder about how Jesus might make life easier for them… but to offer themselves mind, body, and spirit to those whom God places in front of them. They are called to make a thank offering not only from their excess that they will never miss, but to offer their whole selves to the world in response to the life-giving life-renewing Word of God made known to them through the life of Jesus Christ.

And what’s perhaps most stunning for us today, is that the disciples actually go out and do just that. They go and proclaim the Good News. They proclaim the promise of God and yes, they proclaim it to those who do not wish to hear them. It is not easy, it is hard. It is thankless. They are rejected. They are persecuted. They are put on trial and yes, many of them… are martyred. And this is why we don’t talk about religion or politics at the dinner table.

Refocusing on the Unknown

What Jesus does for the disciples is he makes it very clear to them that yes, death will come. The end will come. But you don’t need to spend too much time thinking or planning for that part. You can’t control that part. You can’t control the end. You can’t control death. But God can. And while all things will find their end, the Word of God will persist. And the Word of God proclaims life made new even after we meet our ends.

But what you can do…. What you -can- control, is how you live in this life. You can control how you offer the fruits of your life. You can control how you care for those whom God places around you. You can control how you show God’s love and compassion to those who need the comforting reminder of God’s presence in their lives through you.

“And the Gospel,” Jesus says, “must be preached to all the nations.”

Throughout the Gospel of Mark, Jesus has been teaching his disciples and us what it is to be a disciple of Christ. What it is to serve God by serving those in need. What it is to proclaim God’s abundant grace and life-giving hope through the way we ourselves live.

For while we do not have control over the future, nor often even over the present… we do have some say in how we respond to Christ’s call of discipleship.

We can choose how we prioritize that call in the midst of all the other busyness of life. We can choose how intentional we are in our prayer lives… in our reading of scripture… in our time spent among fellow believers at church… in our acts of charity and love toward our neighbor… even the neighbor unknown.

Christ refocuses us away from getting lost in concerns of that which we cannot control, and calls us to consider how we make use of the time and gifts that we have. For that is the call of discipleship which we are each given. How might we make thank offerings of our lives in response to Christ’s love and redeeming work?

Because of Christ, we can say with the psalmist, “Because God is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.” For even as natural disasters and health crises and broken relationships and even the threat of death might loom over us… God has us covered into eternity.

You and I are freed to be like Finch. Not perfect. Certainly broken. Maybe a little anxious about what comes next. But spending our life to offer life for those who will persist beyond ourselves. Spending our time that the lives of others might be enriched with the message of hope both tangible and spiritual that comes from love of Christ.

So how might you and I live like Christ’s disciples today? How might we embark anew on this journey to make our very lives thank offerings to God?