I took part in two services this morning at two different churches. Neither preacher mentioned the terrorist attacks of 9-11 (so far as I can remember), but both spoke of the attacks during the prayers, and one of them had a moment of silence for the victims of the attacks.
Americans over eighty years old remember where they were when they heard about the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Americans over sixty years old remember hearing about the assassination of President Kennedy. Americans over forty years old remember the stretch of weeks during which John Lennon was killed, Anwar Sadat was killed, and attempts were made upon President Reagan and Pope John Paul II that seriously injured both men. Americans over twenty years old remember the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington (and the attempted attack that ended in Pennsylvania), but to college freshman that bit of history is probably a vague memory if they remember it at all.
It seems that each generation has a defining tragedy, an attack of such violence that its impact lingers in memory. Until Christ returns in glory, he warned us, there will be wars and rumors of wars. History is less a countdown to the Last Day than it is a continuing reminder that the world is polluted by sin, stained by evil, and subject to God’s righteous judgment. On the Last Day the earth will shake, and every earthquake of our lifetimes reminds us of the Last Day. Every storm, every flood, and every disastrous fire reminds us of God’s judgment upon a sinful world. Still, the end is yet to come.
Nature in revolt against humanity seems only fair, given the damage we regularly inflict upon God’s creation. Human violence against one another is devastating in a different way. War is one of the most vivid metaphors we have to describe the fight between God and evil; or rather, the revolt of evil against God. When nations engage of wars of conquest against their neighbors, or when nations are embroiled in wars of revolution, the violence and bloodshed and death—as well as the hatred that justifies such violence—presents an image of the war that began when Satan deceived the woman, and she and her husband ate the forbidden fruit. Although the decisive battle of this war was fought as Jesus was hanging on the cross, the culmination of this war will occur when Jesus returns in glory to claim his Kingdom.
Revelation 16:16 refers to a battlefield called Armageddon. This word has taken on several meanings in western culture. It literally means “the heights of Megiddo.” The city of Megiddo was on a plain in northern Israel; in ancient times, several significant battles were fought on that plain. As a geographical feature, the heights of Megiddo do not exist. I believe that Armageddon refers to the entire war between God and evil, from the first day of sin to the Last Day, the Day of the Lord. Evil forces gather sinners into their rebellion—all the nations of the world are involved. Yet Jesus wins without an arrow being shot, without a spear being thrown, without a sword being drawn, without a shot being fired, and without a bomb being dropped. His victory was announced from the cross when Jesus said, “It is finished.” Ever since that weekend, the people faithful to Jesus have been carrying news of this victory to all the nations of the world, as Jesus said we would do.
We need to remember acts of war, both as lessons from history and as pictures of what is yet to come. Commemorations of Pearl Harbor, or of the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, serve both purposes. May our memories of the past and our witnessing of present violence prepare us for the victory already won but yet to be seen in its fullness. And, to those who fear war and terrorism and violence, may we remember to share the good news of this victory. J.