St Matthew 24: 9 – 35
‘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. Then many will fall away, and they will betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. But anyone who endures to the end will be saved. 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.
‘So when you see the desolating sacrilege standing in the holy place, as was spoken of by the prophet Daniel (let the reader understand), then those in Judea must flee to the mountains; someone on the housetop must not go down to take what is in the house; someone in the field must not turn back to get a coat. Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days! Pray that your flight may not be in winter or on a sabbath. For at that time there will be great suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be. And if those days had not been cut short, no one would be saved; but for the sake of the elect those days will be cut short. Then if anyone says to you, “Look! Here is the Messiah!” or “There he is!”—do not believe it. For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and produce great signs and omens, to lead astray, if possible, even the elect. Take note, I have told you beforehand.
So, if they say to you, “Look! He is in the wilderness”, do not go out. If they say, “Look! He is in the inner rooms”, do not believe it. For as the lightning comes from the east and flashes as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. Wherever the corpse is, there the vultures will gather.
‘Immediately after the suffering of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of heaven will be shaken.
Then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see “the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven” with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.
‘From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see all these things, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
Reflection
A dark passage indeed, perhaps what started out as a great adventure from paradise went astray. Sometimes, going on a great adventure is something we have to do! Whether one we planned with care, or one into which we are mysteriously drawn by the pull of the Spirit.
My recent pilgrimage to Lindisfarne was such an adventure — a crossing over shifting sands, guided by tide and ancient poles, where sky and earth meet in a wide silence. Each step, taken between land and sea, perhaps a prayer; each breathe, a reminder perhaps, that faith itself is a journey across uncertain ground.
I went expecting peace and history, but returned with a deeper awareness of time, fragility, and the shimmering thread of hope that runs through all creation.
Yet what if this adventure wasn’t part of the plan? What if the world’s noise distracts us, its suffering overwhelms us, and our vision narrows until we can’t see the way through. Jesus’ words in Matthew 24 remind us that the world will shake, the familiar will crumble, and signs of chaos will appear; not the failures of the journey but the reality of it. The desolating sacrilege that creation is enduring; for now.
Pilgrimage, like discipleship, takes us through both beauty and desolation, through sunlight and shadow alike. Yet, after the trepidation, the exploration, the discoveries and lessons, there comes the deep longing to go home. But where is home now?
Perhaps home has become wherever the promise of Christ’s coming fills the horizon. On Lindisfarne, the rhythm of tide and prayer, wind and silence, whispered that home is found not in the safety of walls, but in the steadfastness of God.
Can we see the tender shoots of the fig tree? The green signs of life returning after the storm are God’s quiet assurances that His word shall not pass away. The adventure of faith never truly ends—it ripens, season after season, toward new fruitfulness in His light.
Prayer
Christ of the tides and the turning seasons,
You call us to journey across shifting sands and uncertain seas.
When the winds rise and our hearts grow weary,
be our stillness, our compass, our home.
Plant within us the tender shoots of faith,
that we may see Your promise in every dawn and every storm.
Keep us watchful for Your coming,
and rooted always in the steadfast love of God.
Amen.