Preaching After the Temple Falls Down

Mark 13:1-10
November 17, 2024

William G. Carter  

As Jesus came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

 

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs. As for yourselves, beware; for they will hand you over to councils; and you will be beaten in synagogues; and you will stand before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them. And the good news must first be proclaimed to all nations.”

Like most of the Bible, the Gospel of Mark was written after the events that it describes. We know this to be true. There was no first-hand account of God creating the world because there was nobody yet to write it down. Adam and Eve hadn’t invented pencils yet. They were too busy figuring out the names of the animals.

In the same way, no one wrote down the story of Christmas before that Easter resurrection thirty-some years later. The shepherds were illiterate. Mary and Joseph were busy. The angels had already gone back to heaven. And the birth of a peasant child didn’t mean anything special until that child grew up, made a name for himself, was crucified, and raised, and people said, “Wow! Where do you suppose he came from?” And his mother said, “Let me tell you what I remember.”

When we listen to the Bible, we listen to memories. They have been collected by people of faith. These are recollections, sifted and organized, sometimes years later. In the passing of time, memories grow in importance. Disconnected pieces start to make sense. Hidden threads become visible. We discern the significance of events we were anxious to speed by.

Sometime in April in the year 29 or 30 AD, Jesus stepped out of the Jerusalem Temple with his disciples. The writer of the Gospel of Mark remembers how one of those upcountry fishermen turned around, looked at the huge edifice, and exclaimed, “Shazam! Look how big it is! We don’t have blocks of limestone like this up in Galilee.” Of course not.

The second Jerusalem temple filled on a 36-acre lot. King Herod took this on as his personal rebuilding project. He loved to put his name on buildings; the bigger, the better. According to the accounts, a trench was dug around the mountain. Foundation stones were carved and rolled in, some of them weighing a hundred tons or more. The towers stretched 150 feet into the sky – and they didn’t have mechanical cranes back then.

This was an enormous building. The largest in the land! It offered a suitable location for God to touch down on the planet, which is how the Jewish people understood the temple. It’s the House of God. It’s where the Divine Transaction of Mercy is carried out on behalf of the entire world.

And Jesus said, “Do you see this big pile of stones? The whole thing will come tumbling down.” He said that sometime in April in 29 or 30 AD. Forty years later, it happened. Titus, eldest son of the Roman Emperor Vespasian, finished a four-year siege of Jerusalem by tearing down the Temple. Not one stone was left upon another, just like Jesus said.

Now, we can regard his prediction a few different ways. One way is to assume Jesus was a fortune-teller and knew what would happen. A slightly different slant is that he could perceive the inevitable clash between Rome and Jerusalem, which Rome would win. Or third, perhaps Mark wrote down the words of Jesus after they were fulfilled. This makes great sense to me. When something important happens, something traumatic, we sift through our memories to make sense of the crisis. Harsh as it is, truth bubbles up.  

“This temple is coming down…” That’s what he said. His prediction suggests there would be no central Temple for those who followed Jesus, no singular location to gather and pray. The faithful people of God would have to spread out, differentiate, find multiple places to worship. And so it has unfolded. But remember, as Jesus remembers, the Temple had been destroyed six hundred years before. The truth is that every Temple is temporary.

Then he said, “Beware of the fakes and the fear-mongers. They will profess to have inside knowledge, and they won’t.” And that’s exactly what happened, too. It has never really ceased. Those people are still out there, pretending to follow Christ as they snarl beneath their smiles.

Ever notice how someone writes a book about the Bible and the End of the World, and the next week, somebody else writes another book – and another book – and another book. Fear is Big Business, especially in the so-called Christian World. Jesus calls them “imposters.” 

Then he said, “For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines.” These are inevitable, he says. We are a warlike species who can’t quite figure out how to live in peace with one another. And we do this on an unstable planet. There are San Andreas fault lines, erupting volcanoes, and enlarging deserts. Terrible things happen in our world. Nobody will be surprised by that.

The worst of what happens is what people do to one another. For Jesus said, “They will betray you and beat you up,” and that shouldn’t surprise us at all. It happened to Jesus – in the very next chapter of Mark’s account, someone betrayed him. In the chapter after that, somebody beat him up. If we follow Christ, the road goes all the way to the cross.

Just one more reminder that life is hard. It is hard for everybody – please remember that. Nobody is exempt from pain, difficulty, distress. Especially if they are following Jesus. Especially if their faithfulness is what sets off the powers of destruction.

This is how memory helps us. Others have gone through trouble before us. Others have lost their temples – not to foreign invasions, but to floods, earthquakes, acts of violence, or even changes beyond their control. These days, there are a lot of empty church buildings, once full, once thriving, once bustling with spiritual energy. But things can change.

Like the congregation I knew that had been through so much. They lost their building in a fire, but they pulled together and rebuilt. But finances were tough, and they couldn’t afford a minister anymore. They tried fundraisers, but raffle tickets didn’t do the job.

Kind-hearted friends pointed out how the old neighborhood had changed. It was no longer a tight-knit community of Welsh families. The new neighbors were speaking Spanish. Further down the block, they spoke Vietnamese.

One night, the small remnant of Welsh souls decided to turn in the keys. They couldn’t do it anymore. No energy to look beyond themselves. No passion to serve a neighborhood full of strangers. There was no earthquake, no famine, no invading army – just a weary few who lost their Temple by walking away from it. One of the most tragic sights I’ve ever seen. They didn’t have sufficient energy to dial 1-800-Got-Junk. We had to dial it for them.

And then, there was the tragedy of opening the closets of a church that had imploded: a broken mimeograph machine no one had ever fixed, a stack of worship bulletins from 1978 that no one had ever thrown out, a rack full of choir robes spotted with mildew. I couldn’t help but fear those dear people had gotten so stuck that they forgot what Christ has called them to do.

And what was that? Jesus says it in the text: keruxenthai euangelion. Preach the Gospel. When the Temple is tumbling down, what do you do? Preach the Gospel. When earthquakes shake and floodwaters roar, proclaim the Good News that Christ is stronger than the storm. When crisis creates human need, kneel before the needy and reveal the suffering love of God in Jesus Christ. Keruxenthai euangelion: proclaim the Gospel.

That’s what we do because it doesn’t depend on our circumstances. Our proclamation rests solely on the grace of God. That’s why we speak and act. That’s why we are here.

There’s nothing like a good, old twenty-month pandemic to expose what you’re made of. It reveals if you have any hope, and where you find it. It shakes away the crust and reveals the truth that life comes only from God.

So, the Temple tumbles down. That doesn’t mean God has been destroyed. Merely the building. And what this reveals is our all-too-human tendency to freeze in time what we love. We love this moment and wish it continues forever. We love this constellation of relationships and don’t want it to shift. We love this sacred space, the way we do things, the routines we maintain. This is why good people can freak out at the possibility of change, much less the trauma of enormous change. Having survived a pandemic with you, I understand that.

Then I hear Jesus say, “Even when the Temple is falling, the Gospel must be proclaimed to all.” Or in his words, Keruxenthai euangelion

Some of my volunteer work is to help out other churches, especially those who don’t have the resources that we currently enjoy. As I make my way around the region, I have heard a lot of belly aching. “The church isn't what it used to be. Our congregations are fading away. We don't have any hope. We don't know how much longer we can go on.”

I have only one thing to say in reply: Is the gospel still true? Is Jesus still Lord, crucified and risen? Do old King Herod or Emperor Vespasian think they can hang on to power forever? Is anybody or anything eternal, beyond the Eternal One? I think you know what the Bible has to say about that.

Jesus came preaching the kingdom of God. This is the announcement that God rules over everything. The Good News reveals at least two truths.

• First, none of us are going to get everything what we want. Why? Because we are not in charge; the planets don’t revolve around any of us.
• Second, because God rules over everything, God's ways will ultimately become the world’s ways, and God willing, they will become our ways, too. This may take a while. We can expect a struggle. But resistance is futile. God will win.

What we hear today is a hopeful word. God is greater than the temple that worships him. God is greater than the people who worship him. God rules over all things, not just the small, undersized heart, not only the puny despots who tear down physical temples, but all things. God rules over all. It is a theme as old as the book of Psalms. That’s what we proclaim. 

So, we have nothing to fear. And that’s good news. Let’s tell other people about it.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.