The End

The Doors’ “The End” explores endings, existential crises, and transformation themes that resonate deeply with Advent’s reflection on judgment, human responsibility, and the hope of redemption. Both the song and the season confront us with the reality of endings—not as finality but as a prelude to renewal.

Endings as Catastrophe and Transformation

“The End” begins with the poignant lyric:

“This is the end, beautiful friend, this is the end.”

This farewell unfolds into chaos, mirroring the collapse of personal, societal, and existential structures. Similarly, the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 C.E., described as a “shaking of the foundations,” was a moment of profound disorientation—a time when the light of God seemed extinguished for many.

Jim Morrison’s poetic meditation on endings captures the paradox of these moments: they are devastating yet transformative. Advent affirms that catastrophe is often senseless but not without meaning. God's redemptive work usually begins in the wreckage of Jerusalem and in the chaos of our own lives. Like “The End,” Advent challenges us to make sense of loss and prepare ourselves for the following renewal.

Judgment: Acknowledging Brokenness

Advent’s acknowledgment of judgment and brokenness echoes the stark imagery of “The End.” Morrison’s haunting lyrics delve into the darkness within:

“The killer awoke before dawn; he put his boots on.”

This unsettling moment forces listeners to confront humanity’s capacity for destruction and rebellion. Similarly, Advent’s apocalyptic texts, like the language of Luke 21, lay bare the brokenness of the world and the human heart.

Yet, in Advent, judgment is not punitive but diagnostic. It reveals the fractures in the world and within ourselves, calling us to repentance. Morrison’s “The End” functions similarly, forcing us to sit with the reality of our complicity in chaos. As Pascal reminds us, “He who would act the angel, acts the beast.” Whether personal or societal, endings name the truth of our brokenness while holding out the possibility of something new.

Human Responsibility: Facing the Chaos Within

Advent’s call to responsibility resonates with the psychological and moral confrontation in “The End.” The song’s raw, unflinching tone underscores that the chaos of the world often mirrors the chaos within us:

“Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain / And all the children are insane.”

Advent compels us to ask: How do we respond to the brokenness we see? Do we perpetuate destruction, or do we prepare the way for redemption? Luke 3’s imagery of leveling mountains and filling valleys reminds us that transformation begins with us. Advent demands that we take responsibility—not just for our actions but for the world's healing.

Redemption: Imagining a New Future

While “The End” is often seen as bleak, its cathartic structure suggests the possibility of liberation. The chaos and destruction it portrays dismantle old structures, clearing space for something new. This reflects Advent’s promise of redemption: the coming of God’s kingdom is not merely a future hope but a present reality breaking into the world.

Baruch’s prophecy offers a vision of this new reality:

“For God has ordered that every high mountain and everlasting hill be made low… so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God.” (Baruch 5:7)

Similarly, Morrison’s existential meditation asks us to consider what lies beyond destruction:

“Can you picture what will be / So limitless and free?”

Advent and “The End” call us to imagine and embody redemption now. To live prophetically is to prepare for the universal homecoming of God’s children, dressing ourselves in righteousness and walking in God’s light.

Living in the Tension

Advent and “The End” hold us in the tension between judgment and redemption:

1. Acknowledging the darkness: Both the destruction of Jerusalem and Morrison’s lyrics confront us with humanity’s brokenness and the world’s fragility.

“The blue bus is callin’ us.”

2. Taking responsibility: Advent reminds us that human choices shape the world. Morrison’s journey through rebellion forces us to reckon with our inner conflicts and moral failures.

3. Anticipating redemption: Advent proclaims that God will not abandon us or history, and “The End” hints at transformation even amid chaos.

Advent as Journey Through “The End”

Like “The End,” Advent is a journey through endings toward a promised future. It is a season of paradox: a time of waiting and urgency, mourning and hope, judgment and redemption. Morrison’s unsettling beauty compels us to face the reality of endings, while Advent invites us to confront our brokenness and live into God’s renewal.

“Live God’s future today.” Even as we experience the unthinkable, Advent reminds us that the end is not the end. It is the beginning of something beautiful—or, as Morrison might suggest, a path to something limitless and free.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Despair is, at its core, an act of presumption

  At a time of deep despair, when John Claypool felt the darkness closing in, an elderly rabbi offered him a piece of wisdom that reframed his struggle: “Despair is the only unforgivable sin for a Jew.” The rabbi explained that despair is, at its core, an act of presumption. It declares with certainty that no hope is left and that the future holds nothing but the weight of our present sorrow. And yet, the rabbi pointed out, this is a future we have not seen and cannot predict. In presuming to know the outcome, despair claims authority over time and God’s possibilities, which none of us possess. This wisdom is a reminder of humility. None of us can see beyond the present moment, yet our faith invites us to trust what we cannot see—that God’s grace may break through in ways we cannot imagine. Even in the darkest moments, this stance of humility keeps the door to hope open. Claypool’s encounter with the rabbi challenges us to resist despair, not by pretending we do not hurt, but by h...
Read more

Homily for Proper 15 Year C

  Homily for Proper 15 Year C Luke 12:49-56   If, in the first century, you walked down a dusty road in Galilee you would know who is in charge —not because someone told you,  but because you could feel it. [1] The soldiers at the crossroads.  The eagle of Rome stamped into every coin. [2] The shadow of the Antonia Fortress  [3] leaning over the Temple.  Even the taxes—layer upon layer —remind you who holds the power …Caesar, far away, yet so very near.   And in that same air—  Pharisees debating purity codes in the marketplace. [4] Sadducees in their fine robes,  managing the temple and political alliances.  Essenes disappearing into the wilderness,  withdrawing from it all.  Zealots whispering about revolt.  Everywhere talk of revolt. And, people, without a label,  just keeping Sabbath,  raising children,  and praying for deliverance. [5] A people of faith, rich in hope, but also fractious,  noisy wit...
Read more

Reflection on “Where Sea Meets Sky”

Mary Louise Porter at the Walter Anderson Museum of Art Was on View: December 21, 2024 – May 18, 2025 There is a sacred hush in the space where sea meets sky—a liminal line both constant and always changing. This exhibition, curated in partnership between the Walter Anderson Museum of Art and painter Mary Louise Porter, honors that threshold, inviting viewers not merely to look, but to pause, to breathe, and to be drawn into wonder. Porter’s work is a meditation on the Gulf Coast’s quiet majesty. A Louisiana native now rooted in Mississippi, she brings with her the eyes of a newcomer and the heart of one who has stayed. Her canvases reflect a reverent attention to the elemental drama unfolding along the coast: water and light, color and movement, impermanence and return. In Where Sea Meets Sky, we encounter not only static images but a dynamic relationship. Porter’s Horizon Blocks—modular painted boxes she will rearrange over the course of the exhibition—are more than aesthetic devices...
Read more