Stay Awake: Mark 13:28-37

"Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near."

Simple observation. Every farmer knew it. The fig tree was one of the last trees to leaf in spring—when it budded, summer was certain.

"Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that it is near, right at the door. Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."

His words outlasting the cosmos. The universe would dissolve before a syllable of his teaching proved false.

"But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father."

The timing remained hidden—even from Jesus in his human knowing. The Father alone held that secret. All predictions of dates were presumption; all certainty about timing was delusion.

So what then? How should they live?

"Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come."

Jesus painted a picture: "It's like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch."

Every servant had work. The doorkeeper had vigilance. Both were required.

"Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping."

Evening. Midnight. Rooster crow. Dawn. The four watches of the night. Any moment. Every moment a possibility.

"What I say to you, I say to everyone: 'Watch!'"

The final word of the discourse was a command. Not hide. Not fear. Not calculate. Watch. Stay awake. Be ready. The master was coming, and the servants must be found at their posts.

The Mount of Olives conversation ended. The temple glowed below. The sun was setting on more than just that day.