Brief synopsis of the readings: We begin with the Old Testament prophet Malachi. He speaks about how the “day is coming now, burning like a furnace; and all the arrogant and the evil-doers will be like stubble.” But he also writes: “for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness will shine out with healing its rays.” In Luke’s Gospel some were bragging about the Temple and how beautiful it looked. But Jesus warned that there would be a day when “not a single stone will be left on another.” His listeners were disturbed by this and asked if there would be a sign that this was about to happen. Instead of directly answering their question he told them that there would be others who would falsely claim Jesus’ name and predict that the “time is near at hand.” He further tells them not to be frightened by predictions of war and revolution. Finally, he tells them not to fear persecution. They “will hand you over to the synagogues and to imprisonment, and bring you before kings and governors because of my name.” Jesus instructs them not to prepare a defense but instead “I myself will give you an eloquence and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to resist or contradict.” “Your endurance will win you your lives.

The end of the liturgical year is coming soon. Our secular calendar ends on December 31st but the liturgical year ends next week with the feast of Christ the King. The liturgical year begins with the First Sunday of Advent and this year it’s November 27th (it’s usually the end of November but is sometimes the beginning of December).

The readings for the last few weeks of the liturgical year center on what we call “apocalyptic literature;” fancy words for prophecies of the last days. Much of the early books of the Bible tells us how the world began; apocalyptic literature tells us how things will end.

And these readings sometimes scare us. We all like to hear stories about how we began: the Garden of Eden, the Call of Abraham, the Exodus from Egypt, etc. They make us feel good because they end with happy endings: we were born.

But stories about the future tend to concern us because we often don’t know what they mean. On a human level we all know that at some point we will die and we don’t like to think about that. And, in the final word, this informs how we read Biblical writers about how things will end.

When we hear the phrase “apocalyptical literature” we tend to think about the Book of Revelation, the last book of the New Testament. But apocalyptic literature is much larger than this one book and it points to hope.

Much of the Old Testament centers on how God works in our lives. Abraham founded a new nation, Moses delivered us from slavery, King David lead a great nation, etc. But our history doesn’t limit itself to our own victories. God may have our back, but we can look at our future with hope.

And let’s face it: apocalyptic literature is supposed to give us hope for the future. Much of it was written during times of oppression when we feared we would not survive. Again and again its message was this: even when evil appears to have power over good, even when goodness appears doomed, do not despair. God is good and goodness will always triumph over evil.

But there’s a problem with modern interpretations of this. Writers and preachers have found in this a way to advance their own causes. They have turned these readings on their heads and make people afraid. I’m not certain when this started, but it certainly got a boost in the 1970s with a book called The Late Great Planet Earth. The author read this literature and made a fortune telling good people that they should fear these readings. He proclaimed that these readings served as a warning that we were not those who were saved, but were in danger of being the ones who would be condemned.

But even a cursory reading of Luke shows how this is not possible. We all know that Jesus’ relationship with the Temple was mixed at best. Jews of the time saw the Temple as the apex of their history, the singular sign that God favored them over the Romans. On the other hand Jesus saw the Temple with an awareness that for all its beauty it also showed our flaws. The disparity between wealth and poverty did not end at the Temple door, and the Romans’ strength was greater than Temple walls.

We know, from the great sweep of history, that when Jesus spoke these words, the Temple would be destroyed in a few years. It has never been rebuilt.

But we persevere. And the way we persevere matters.

God promises that good will triumph over evil but God does not promise that bad things won’t happen. When Jesus tells us that others “will seize you and persecute you; they will hand you over to the synagogues and to imprisonment, and bring you before kings and governors because of my name” he was telling us something critical. There are times when we will be persecuted. Most of us reading this will not be arrested for our faith, but many of us will be ridiculed. I recently told a patient of mine that I was Catholic and she told me that she felt bad that I was following a religion that “strayed from God.” She encouraged me to come back to Jesus and join her church.

And Jesus tells us not to live our lives in fear of this. I was a priest before the sex abuse scandal hit the front pages of the media, but I well remember taking precautions against false allegations. I made certain I was never alone in a room with another person, regardless if that person was an adult or a child. And that made sense. Nobody could falsely accuse me if I was never in a place to be accused.

But that well founded caution can take over our lives. We need to believe that we need not live in fear of accusation all the time. When we are accused, regardless the circumstances, we still live in the love of God. Perhaps without our awareness, we drift from our roles as disciples when our fear of persecution or ridicule changes our behavior or causes us to fear doing what we know we should do.

The readings this week and next call us to courage, to security, and to believe that no matter what happens, good will triumph over evil. The destruction of the Temple by the Romans was meant to destroy us but it didn’t. Instead brave Jews and Christians (those who didn’t follow Jesus and those who did) rose from the rubble of the Temple and kept the faith. For them apocalyptic literature gave them all they needed to keep the faith.

It should do that to us today.