Our story begins this morning in the Temple, where Jesus has just praised a poor widow for giving her last two coins to pay the temple tax, in contrast to the many rich who were giving opulent gifts to the temple out of their wealth and excess. The disciples, not quite getting the message, have begun talking amongst themselves, expressing awe at the beauty and grandeur of the temple buildings, which are adorned with gold and silver and many fine gemstones. Jesus, of course, notices where their attention has gone, and responds with the following: “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” The disciples didn’t expect to hear this, and you can almost hear the shock and horror in their voices as they frantically respond, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?”
Now, Jesus has spoken to them before about the coming of the Son of Man and the great destruction that would take place in those days, but this is the first time he tells them clearly that this apocalypse is coming for them, for the people of God, for the very temple where they believed that God’s presence dwelt. How could this be? The Temple was one of the greatest building projects of that era of the world. It was massive, opulent, and imposing — built like a great fortress that would protect the people of God and their holy places. The first Temple, Solomon’s temple, had been rejected by God and destroyed in the exile many centuries before, but God had proclaimed through the prophets long ago that he would raise up a new Temple that would never be destroyed! This was God’s house, wasn’t it? How could it be thrown down?
The disciples, and most of the Jews of Jesus’ day, saw more than a great building when they looked up at the Temple. They saw the place where they believed God met his people, the center of his presence and power and protection in their midst. Here they offered their sacrifices and tried to fulfill the Law, here the priests and scribes and pharisees preached and taught (and fought) about what it meant to be faithful to God. Here millions of them would come, three times a year, to meet God together in celebrating the great festivals and to remember their history as God’s people. As long as this building stood, they could believe that all would be well, that they were God’s special people, that they would one day be lifted out of their troubles and their enemies crushed beneath their feet. This was, in short, the center of their trust, the place where they pinned their security, the object of their faith.
But here’s the thing: Jesus’ words reveal that this building was never meant to be the place where they placed their trust — was never actually the place where God would dwell forever. This Temple, like Solomon’s before it, had a dubious history. Everything the disciples marveled at had been built just a few decades before by Herod the Great, the same Herod who is famous for murdering the innocent children of Bethlehem in the wake of Jesus’ birth. Herod the Great, we are told by the historians of this time, had a penchant for grand building projects. You see, he wanted to make a name for himself, to be remembered, to be ‘Great’, and he saw his biggest opportunity to do this by rebuilding the second temple, transforming it from the modest original building constructed after the exile into the huge and elaborate building that the disciples ogled at. However, gigantic, gold-encrusted buildings are expensive, so he built the temple by imposing crushing taxes on the people and reinstating the temple tax on top of the building taxes. Herod even marked the signs that stood at the entrances to certain parts of the temple, so it was impossible to forget who was responsible for this grand building. This temple existed at least as much for the glory of Herod’s name as God’s, and the exploitation of the poor and vulnerable was built into the very walls. It’s no wonder, I think, that Jesus goes to ‘cleanse’ the Temple of the money lenders and temple tax collectors as soon as he enters Jerusalem in Luke’s gospel.
After proclaiming the destruction of the temple, Jesus goes on to tell them that not only would the temple be destroyed, but a time of great violence and instability would be coming. Nation would rise against nation, natural disasters would ravage the lands, and even they themselves would be persecuted — arrested, imprisoned, even some of them killed — by their own people. A time was coming where it would seem like everything the disciples knew and trusted would be shaken and even Jesus’ own special followers would not escape the trials and tribulations to come. This was not what they expected, not what their teachers had promised them. When Messiah arrived, he was supposed to deliver them from their troubles, bring wealth and plenty, establish and secure the Temple forever — I think their shock and confusion is understandable.
So Jesus begins to speak to their anxieties; he tells them that in the midst of the instability and turmoil to come, God will not leave them alone. The destruction of the Temple does not mean that God is abandoning them. When they are persecuted, He will be with them, putting words in their mouth and wisdom in their hearts to witness to the truth and love of God in the face of the hatred and fear that will surround them. They will not escape the pain and insecurity of the coming days, but God will guide them through this time — will be their companion and their teacher — protecting the very hairs of their heads, sustaining their souls with life eternal even as they seem to be surrounded by death. “By your endurance, you will gain your souls,” Jesus says.
In retrospect, we know that it was in the fires of this time that the church was forged. The destruction of Jerusalem pushed the church out into the rest of the world. The persecution of Christ’s earliest followers, and the way that they continued to witness to truth and love in the face of that persecution, is what drew people throughout the known world to join them and encounter the presence of God in their midst.
In this moment in the gospel, however, the disciples haven’t yet come to realize that Christ’s body, of which they would become a part, is the true Temple, the place where God had come to dwell with his people forever. Herod’s Temple had become an idol to power and security, it was never meant to hold the people’s faith and trust. God’s dwelling place was coming into their midst, within and between them as they came to be filled with the Holy Spirit and to love one another with Christ’s love. God’s presence could not be taken away from them, even when everything they thought was safe and secure and sacred became uncertain.
And this is where we find ourselves as well. We also are a part of Christ’s body. In our baptism, at this table, and most importantly in our love for one another, we are joined to Christ and God is revealed in our midst. We also face a time of uncertainty and instability, a time when many of us feel alienated from and at odds with those we have known and loved, and when many of the institutions we have trusted (in our society and in the Church) do not seem quite as steady and stable as they once did. We also hear reports of ‘nation rising against nation’ and ‘kingdom against kingdom,’ and in the Episcopal Church we have even seen some of our own clergy under fire in the public square from the ‘kings and governors’ of our time. Christ’s words to the disciples are for us in these days too. We may not be able to avoid the trials of our time, but we will not be alone in them. Like the disciples, it is our job to keep telling the truth, to keep loving our neighbors and our enemies, to keep witnessing to the love of God, no matter how scary things get. If we endure, if we keep the faith together, Christ’s words and wisdom will remain with us, and we will see the presence of God shine forth even in the darkest of places.
May we come to know and to trust that God remains faithful, that God is with us, even when it feels like everything else is falling apart.
Amen.