The end of your world and the end of the world - Nathan Tuckwell

“It’s not the end of the world.” Many of us have heard these words, often uttered by well-meaning people in response to our complaints. While meant to be a helpful reality check, we’ve often felt their sting. This is because there are moments in life when it does feel like your world is ending.

At the start of 2020, a couple of months before the pandemic, I had my own ‘end of the world’ moment. My marriage suddenly disintegrated against my wishes in a matter of weeks.

It’s not easy to find words to describe those early days. It felt like the foundations of my life had been pulled out from beneath me. All the prospective futures I’d ever pondered were obliterated. The present as I knew it was blown up. I couldn’t even trust my own recollection of the past. Was anything true? It was profoundly disorienting. It really felt like the end of my world.

And yet, I am aware that I’m not alone in feeling like this. Be it divorce, death, mental illness, miscarriage, infertility, family instability, financial hardship or other difficulties, there are a seemingly endless number of ways to suffer. In those moments of grief and disorientation, it really can feel like the end of the world.

As I reflect back on my own ‘end of the world’ crisis moment, I’m struck by how profoundly the Christian view of the end of the world speaks to these adversities. The Bible’s teaching on Jesus’ promised return as judge and king give us resources to process horrible circumstances. It gives the man or woman of faith the ability to trust God through them and to praise him in the midst of them. In what follows, I’ll reflect on how Jesus’ return enables a life of trust and praise and suggest some ways this can impact Christian life together.

Firstly, Jesus’ promised return at the end of the world gives to the person of faith a foundation that can never be shattered. Even when we come unmoored from all other securities in life, this is a hope that is steadfast. In John 14:3, Jesus tells his confused and disturbed disciples that he will come back to take them to be where he is going. Later on, in John 16:33, he says, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Our Lord speaks with authority. It’s worth noticing where the peace he speaks of is located. It isn’t located in circumstances, but in him. Jesus knows that the disciples will face trouble in the world. But he has spoken to them about his death, resurrection, the sending of his Spirit and his return so that they will have real peace. Not peace in their circumstances, but peace in Jesus. This peace and assurance gives a profound security even when everything else is crumbling.

Secondly, Christian eschatology helps in times of suffering because it gives clarity on what life is about. The Christian person knows that life isn’t ultimately about what I do for work, how many experiences I collect, or who I marry. Rather, God has made known his plan for all of creation, namely, to bring everything together under Christ (Ephesians 1:10). This will be fully realised at Christ’s return. Fundamentally, life isn’t about bringing glory to me, but about bringing glory to Jesus as we await his return. This means that whether my hopes and ambitions come to pass, or whether they fall in a heap, I am able to praise God. This praise may be with tears, but it is genuine praise.

Jesus’ return reframes a Christian’s response to personal suffering and crises. These ‘end of my world’ moments are transformed by the promised end of the world when Christ returns. While this truth doesn’t make these things pain-free, it gives the person of faith resources to live well through them. With this knowledge, it’s worth reflecting on some practical outworkings for Christian individuals and communities.

Is your church a place where someone who’s going through a crisis would feel welcome? When my divorce happened, I moved to a different church. One of their core values was: we don’t do pretend. As I settled into church, I met pastors who were honest about their struggles. I heard people interviewed who didn’t have life neatly put together. I saw people serving who were survivors of abuse, repentant adulterers, burned-out former pastors. I felt like I belonged.

How can your church be a home for people who are struggling? How can you be helpful personally? Perhaps you might be intentional about who you sit next to at church. You might wait for everyone to come in and sit near the person who slips in the back so that you can introduce yourself. You could work hard at sharing more about your own difficulties with Christian friends, in order to foster an openness among you. This could lead to a shared commitment to not do pretend with each other. There are lots of small ways that we can make a huge difference.

Finally, don’t undervalue the place of solid Bible teaching. After some reflection, I’ve concluded that the most helpful thing in my crisis was the fifteen years of solid Bible teaching I received before it. When the brokenness of life comes up close, that is not the time to learn and internalise striking new truths. In that moment what you need is a firm grasp of who God is, what he has done in Christ, and where the future is ultimately headed.

For those of us who are Bible teachers, we need to be focused on teaching the Scriptures accurately so that hearers grow in their knowledge and love of God. This is their actual need. This is not a free pass to be boring, as there’s nothing boring about being brought face to face with the living God. What it does mean is that we will want to work hard to expose the meaning of passages in a way that grips people and helps them to treasure Jesus.

This also impacts how we listen to the Bible. We need to remember that a truth we discover may not seem applicable now but may be absolutely essential in a crisis in ten years. Resist the urge to import the hyperimmediacy of modern life into how we engage with God in his word. Not everything we hear in the Scriptures on a Sunday will revolutionise our Monday. But by regularly sitting under God’s word, we will come to know him more intimately, love him more fully, and be better prepared to trust him more deeply no matter what the future holds as we await Christ’s return.