November 17, 2024: May God’s words be spoken, may God’s words be heard. Amen.

Well, that’s a cheery gospel, isn’t it? If you ever doubted if the church’s lectionary was in Advent in this time, this text ought to be perfectly clear about that, because Advent always begins with the second coming of Christ – with these end times passages.

But, I think we all can agree, it speaks to us now in a way that perhaps it hasn’t before. I mean, it could not have been lost on any of you the words of Jesus in the gospel this morning, and how strangely they echo through the centuries to our current circumstances.

The gospel passage begins with Jesus, having done some smack downs of the leaders inside the temple, now outside of it with his disciples. To fully get what this setting was

Jerusalem Temple Painting by Alex Levin

like for them, you gotta understand that the temple in Jerusalem was no small building. It was an enormous and beautiful structure – beyond anything these backwater disciples had ever seen. They were admiring the huge stones, and all the magnificence of the whole thing as they stood in its shadow. Jesus tells them that all that they are admiring will be destroyed – “not one stone will be left here upon another.”

Imagine how that must have sounded to them as they sat alongside this awe inspiring structure? Even though the first temple had indeed been destroyed, that was centuries earlier – far from their realm of possibility in their minds.

Now imagine how that sounded to those living at the time this gospel was written – when that temple was indeed a pile of rocks, with only the Western Wall remaining. To the disciples, it must have seemed impossible, but to those earliest listeners of this gospel, it was their reality. And both would want to know something even more important – where then would God be found?

Where is God if not in the temple?

Because in that time, for the Jewish people, and for most other religions as well, God was found in the temple – in God’s house. If that house was destroyed – what then? Where is God amidst the ruins?

This is a question that comes into the hearts and minds of even the most stalwart faithful in times like we are experiencing now – when the world seems out of kilter, dark, hateful, and dangerous. “Where is God?”

And then Jesus continues to teach his disciples, telling them that there will be liars trying to deceive them, and there will be “wars and rumors of wars,” that “nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom” of earthquakes and famine. Liars trying to deceive are indeed all around us right now, and “wars and rumors of wars,” famine and disasters – well, they haven’t been rumors for a long time for us now, have they. If only they were.

This is one of the scripture’s apocalyptic narratives. The Greek, apokálypsis means a lifting of the veil – a revealing. So what is Jesus revealing here? What is the good news for us in this time of darkness? Because Lordy, do we ever need some good news right about now, am I right? So many are asking “Where is God?” “What are we to do now?”

That is when we need to hear the last part of what he says in this passage. Jesus, says “This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.” Well, I certainly hope those birth pangs aren’t happening in a state where you can’t get reproductive healthcare, or you might just end up bleeding out and dead.

But staying with Jesus here, and remembering that this is a metaphor he is using, we get to that good news we yearn so very much for – then for those earliest followers standing in the rubble of a destroyed temple, and for us now. And maybe it would be helpful to be clear about why the temple Jesus is talking about was destroyed.

It came as the result of the first of three rebellions of the Jewish people against the Roman Empire. Prior to this, the Jewish faith had been temple centric – both Second Temple Judaism and the Samaritans, who had split off, and whose temple was another location. For Second Temple Judaism – this temple in Jerusalem was the center of festivals, the destination for pilgrims on high holy days, and Jewish political power. It also was still standing during the time of Jesus, and Jerusalem was the center of the early Christian movement, known then as “The Way.”

So, when this temple was destroyed by Titus during the Roman siege of Jerusalem, it was a cataclysmic moment for the Jewish people. Where was God? What are we to do? Where are we to go?

But, as Jesus said, this was not the end, but the beginning.

That is the way with things, isn’t it?

Even in the fortune telling world of Tarot, the death card doesn’t foretell of death, but of change, transformation, new life. It means something must end for this new path to begin.

And we know from our life in Christ that his death on the cross was not the end, but the beginning of new life – of resurrection. Through it, we came to know that light will always overcome darkness, love is stronger than hate, and death never has the last word.

And folks, this is good news for us today.

Because the truth is, these days since the election have left many of us barely able to stand in the rubble of broken dreams and shattered hopes. We are weighed down with the exhaustion of years and years of hate, violence, and lies, and the thought of even worse coming into view with this administration and the movement behind it, where cruelty seems to be the point, destruction the goal, and there are no remaining guardrails to at least curb their worst instincts.

I was thinking about this a bit yesterday when I attended the Union of Black Episcopalians (UBE) Clara Horsley awards breakfast. And one of the first things we did was sing what is known as the Black National Anthem – we call it in the church, Lift Every Voice & Sing. I remember being at Convention the previous weekend, and as we sang it in the Eucharist service, I looked over and saw Tom Reynolds sing this with his eyes closed – all three verses. This is what this hymn means to people of color, especially those in the church.

James Weldon Johnson

Written first as a poem by James Weldon Johnson, and later set to music by his brother, J. Rosamond Johnson, it is also something we need to hold close in our hearts now. I was struck yesterday by the words, particularly with the 2^nd and 3^rdverses, which read:

“Stony the road we trod, Bitter the chastening rod, Felt in the days when hope unborn had died; Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet Come to the place for which our fathers sighed? We have come over a way that with tears has been watered, We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered, Out from the gloomy past, Till now we stand at last Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, Thou who has brought us thus...

“Lift Every Voice And Sing!”