Today we will baptize three children at our 10:30 service, and the parents, the God parents,
and you as members of this congregation will all make promises as to your intentions for the new lives now before
you. From ancient times people have always felt that "promises made on holy ground" were especially binding.
What we say or do in sacred space is supposed to be just that-sacred. Perhaps that is why we still require people
to swear on a Bible before giving testimony in court, and why some feel that a church is the only place to have
a real wedding.
But what makes a place sacred apart from the presence of God? By that definition anywhere we find God, we find
holy ground, and all that we do or say,--even all that we become in such a place is infused with meaning and purpose
that surpasses human intention.
Thus it is that we find ourselves coming to the end of another year in the life this congregation. Just one more
Sunday left in the B cycle of the Lectionary, and next week, with the observance of Christ The King Sunday we will
leave the year of Mark and begin another Advent with the gospel of Luke.
Beginnings, and endings, and new beginnings-such is the cycle of life and the major theme of the life of faith.
We see it in all we do. Even today as we celebrate new lives being initiated into the life of the church and into
the fellowship of the family of God we also mourn the passing of others we have known and loved, who join that
great "cloud of witness" that surrounds us at all times.
Our scriptures today focus on the challenge of facing our fears,--the fears common to every life, and the ultimate
fear --the destruction of all life as we know it. For everything we know will come to an end, and yet, according
to these lessons those who are truly centered will know where to turn for courage and stability and will be prepared
for whatever lies ahead.
As always, to really appreciate these lessons we have to remember the context in which they were taught. They took
place on holy ground, and to truly understand them we must stand on holy ground to hear them. It doesn't "just
happen." Moses took of his shoes. Judaic piety required one to pull up their head covering and "wrap
themselves in a garment of light" in order to stand in the presence of God, which is why in the parable of
the wedding guest one was thrown out for not wearing the proper garment; no reverence, no awe. Our own ancestors
would never have thought to say a prayer without dropping to their knees…but too often we just assume that God
will find us where and as we are and be pleased that we were available.
Last Sunday our gospel presented Jesus in the Temple, opposite the treasury, watching a widow put the only coins
she had into the offering. These are the events of Jesus' final days on earth and he is teaching about the importance
of giving up everything we hold dear in this life…coins, children, even this wonderful place in which we worship
God...in order to be free to move on to the next adventure.
No doubt he knew the words of Psalmist which we used in our call to worship: "I have no good apart from You"…"My
heart is glad,--my soul rejoices; my body rests secure"…for "You show me the path of life."
Even knowing what awaited him at the end of that week, Jesus was perfectly calm, displaying as the Book of Hebrews
highlights the "perfect obedience" of the ultimate High Priest.
Now there are some scholars, especially those in The Jesus Seminar, who believe Jesus never preached an Apocalyptic
Coming of the Son of Man. They suggest apocalypticism came into the early church from followers of John the Baptist,
and that the predictions of a coming Day of the Lord which Mark records here were written in response to the destruction
of the Temple which in actuality had just taken place. It would have been tantamount to the destruction of "the
world as they knew it," and would have been eagerly anticipated by those early followers of Christ, living
under the incredible poverty and oppression of the Roman Empire. Throughout the ages, there have always been times
when people were afraid and questioned whether life on the planet, as they knew it, would survive. In Jesus' day
their fears centered on the domination of the Roman Empire. When that Empire fell people wondered if that was a
signal that the world was in its final days, as hordes of "barbarian" armies swept across the continent.
Wars, plagues, and famines followed throughout the centuries, and those who survived have always wondered if they
were part of God's judgment. Martin Luther thought he was in the end times when the Ottoman Empire stood at the
gates of Europe with a hungry look, and his God seemed not to care.
In our own time we have our own memories of the great world wars, the Holocaust, the bomb, and the Korean and Vietnam
conflicts. There is the AIDS epidemic, the economic struggle, and the escalating violence of our society. We fear
for the safety of our children, and wonder what kind of future might be in store for them. Now, once again engaged
in conflict, our new enemy is "terrorism," and so we must concern ourselves with "smart bombs"
and "dirty bombs." Where is God in all of this?
In Mark 13 Jesus predicts all these things will come to pass within the lifetime of his hearers-and 1,970 years
later we are still bearing witness to their arrival.
Jesus warns: "Beware,--keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come."- (Mark 13:33 )
In many cultures and among many people there exists an awareness...a collective premonition of the Day of the Lord,
a final reckoning, when all the wrongs will be paid for and good will have its ultimate triumph over evil. It rings
true in our hearts, but we've been encouraged in our own time to think that if only we can "predict"
or anticipate its coming- then we will have more control--we can prepare and somehow take charge.
But what if the second coming is really about our own deaths? That we cannot know--neither the day nor the hour?
The end of all things is not a concept or idea limited to religious communities. It is a significant part of the
discussion in the sciences of physics and cosmology. Known as the "necrotic principle," it seems a certainty
that the end of the universe will come. Just as scientists know that death is necessary to the continuation of
life, their formulas and observations indicate that either the universe will collapse back upon itself or will
eventually spin apart.
Christian worship is one place in our society and culture where every week witness is given to the end of things!
Witness is given to a view of time that is at odds with the chronos of the world. In worship, the end of this world
is proclaimed, confessed, sung, and prayed for. We baptize into our death, and affirm that we rise again as new
creations and members of the family of God. We are given stories and metaphors, songs and liturgies that enact
this conversation and speak of God's participation in this process of ending. In such a gathering, in such a community,
the former things are always passing away in order that the new might come.
Our congregations can only benefit when we speak the promise of the end as frightening as it may sometimes sound.
Such proclamation not only destabilizes structures and institutions that seek to falsely claim our ultimate allegiances,
but also provides hope for all seeking true light in these shadowed days.
For unlike the scientist, we are able to give a witness that the endings are but the beginning of "birth pangs"
that usher in new life eternal.
In "Traveling Mercies, Some Thoughts on Faith," Anne LaMott talks about a day "when everything that
could go wrong does go wrong." She says that the followers of the Dalai Lama believe that when a lot of things
start going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born-and
that this something needs for us to be distracted so that it can be born as perfectly as possible." (p.107)
The Jerusalem Temple was beautiful! It was not fully completed until about 64AD, so the building the disciples
marveled at was still under construction. Built by the Herodian dynasty to win Jewish favor and to create a lasting
monument for the King, it was considered an architectural wonder of the ancient world.
Josephus, the first-century Jewish historian says that the large white stone structure, polished and generously
decorated with gold, "had doors also at the entrance, and lintels over them, of the same height with the temple
itself. They were adorned with embroidered veils, with flowers of purple, and pillars interwoven; and over these,
but under the crown-work, was spread out a golden vine, with its branches hanging down from a great height, the
size and fine workmanship of which was a surprising sight to the spectators, to see what vast materials there were,
and with what great skill the workmanship was done. The entire temple was encompassed with very large cloisters,
till it seemed that no one else on earth had so greatly adorned the temple as Herod had done" (Antiquities
of the Jews 15. 11. 3).
It covered about a sixth of the land area of old Jerusalem. To the Jews nothing was as magnificent as their Temple,
and no one could have imagined a world without it. I would imagine that all else paled by comparison, something
like being that little church that stood in the shadow of the World Trade Center Towers. It was so old, so small
and seemingly insignificant…and yet who knew it would become a place of refuge in a time of terror?
The buildings of ancient Jerusalem did not endure but the Word in Christ did. We need to follow him as clearly
as we can, for He said to them as surely as He says to us, "Beware that no one leads you astray."
A cyber colleague from California wrote this past week:
Here's where I am. In the midst of a fire ravaged neighborhood. My own home is standing, though those across the
street are not. My mother's home, 3 doors down from me, is also gone, with all of its contents. For my family,
it feels like total loss. My 90 year old mother is holding up. She says she's been through so much in life that
she was better prepared to deal with this loss than many. No one else in our congregation lost homes, but many
were displaced. I still do not have telephone services other than my cell phone, which isn't totally reliable,
so communication is an issue for the whole congregation.
In this scripture: I hear Jesus saying that nothing is permanent-at least not structures created by people. I also
hear him saying that the nature of this world is that we will experience destruction on many scales. But the word
of hope I hear is that God's kingdom is permanent, that God is working with us through these terrible times, and
that these times in some way usher in the times of God's creative plan.
Each generation needs to be able to leave their own mark, not simply to maintain an edifice left by others. That's
what makes the body of Christ alive. It changes and grows…as all things must.
And so it is we find Jesus sitting opposite the temple, a literary device used by Mark to indicate that Jesus opposed
all of that monumental grandeur, attempting to be slyly competitive with the glory of God. The same God who once
refused to be worshipped at any altar where even one tap of a chisel had changed the natural state of creation.
Does that mean God opposes progress? Not at all. But God opposes that which attempts to wrap itself in light or
reason no longer God's. Let me give you one final example.
You may remember a few years ago a story about a pastor whose church was hit by a tornado during Palm Sunday worship.
That pastor was the Rev. Kelly Clem, who was serving a United Methodist congregation in Piedmont, Alabama. When
the tornado struck Kelly's 4-year-old daughter, Hannah, was preparing to come down the aisle with the other children
holding palm branches, but she did not survive.
After the building collapsed around them, Kelly was in the parking lot moving among her wounded flock, comforting
them, grieving with them, offering God's grace in any way she could. It was an amazing story of heart-wrenching
grief, and also of the deep power of God to meet us in our times of need with a grace that will not let us go.
That congregation held Easter Sunday worship in the parking lot the following week, holding fast to the promise
of resurrection in the face of their deepest pain. They transformed a place of terror to holy ground, and believed
that God would be faithful as well.
Kelly and her husband Dale now serve as United Methodist missionaries to the re-emerging UM church in Lithuania.
They co-authored a book on the story as it unfolded in their lives. I think one of the hardest parts to read in
that book is about the "good people" who felt compelled in their "holiness" to write endless
letters of hate mail following the storm, saying it was God's punishment on a church that would allow a woman to
be their pastor!
The true promise, the very hope of the Gospel is God's kind word to us,--not that there will be no pain, but that
our lamentation will one day be no more-and has begun even now, because we are brought into a relationship with
God.
Always remember the poet who said:
Do not be alarmed. When you have come to the edge of all that you know--and are about to step off into the darkness--know
one of two things will happen -- There will be something solid on which to stand, or you will be taught to fly!
(Modified from a poem called FAITH by ANON)
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