Matthew 24:1-4 Hearts and Temples Have you ever been to Paris, and maybe taken the elevator all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower? Or visited the Empire State Building, and looked through the binoculars mounted on the observation deck, or the Space Needle in Seattle; the Taj Mahal, or the great palaces of Europe? Like these buildings, the Temple in Jerusalem was a magnificent structure. Its gold and marble must have glittered and shone in the sunlight. Have you ever gone to Rome and seen the Vatican and St. Peter s, or so many other cathedrals: Notre Dame, Westminster Abbey, the Alhambra, Ankor Wat in Cambodia, and felt the awe of being in a place built for worship, so big and beautiful. Have you visited Washington D.C. and seen the Capitol, the monuments, and the memorials; or even our own state capitol building, or the Alamo, or the San Jacinto monument, and felt the pride of being American or Texian; and maybe were humbled or even overcome at the history and meaning, as you pondered the price paid to birth our land, or the cost of keeping it free. These emotions, all rolled into one, are what is at stake when the disciples point out to Jesus the splendor of the Temple. Have I named a favorite place yet? Deeper history: what about Stonehenge, the Pyramids of Egypt or of Mexico and Guatemala, or some of the
temples of the ancient civilizations of Peru and Ecuador? Some of the stones of these buildings, like those that made up the foundation of the Temple have been estimated to weigh over 300 tons, and more. The historian Josephus, in his writings from the first century, gave us dimensions of some of the building blocks of the Temple, one of them about 68 feet by 8 by 9, longer than this sanctuary; and another, 38 by 12 by 18. No wonder then, then that the disciples were impressed. Or perhaps your favorite building is the home where you grew up- that maybe isn t there any more, or the old high school that was torn down in the name of progress, or some important place you have watched slowly deteriorate. That is what s at stake, too, when we talk about the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. The great feeling of loss and upheaval; and perhaps fear and anger, as well. Even if we don t know whom to blame. To borrow an idea from one scholar, the Temple had become something of a false security to the Jews. It was the symbol of God s presence, and so grand and beautiful and wonderful, how could anything ever happen to it, or to them, God s chosen people? So its destruction was a devastating loss of identity for the nation. The teaching of Jesus in this chapter tries to make sense of it all. Take heed, he says. Be careful not to put your confidence in things that aren t God,
even in huge and mighty things. He says later in the chapter that heaven and earth may pass away, but his words will not pass away. That is, security is not found in a place, not even in holy or fortified places, but only in God who lives among us in every place. It is interesting that chapter 24 begins with Jesus leaving the Temple. It is a symbolic exit. He walked away from it and never returned, because it had ceased to be God s house, and had become instead a hiding place for thieves, as Jesus said in Chapter 21. So Jesus goes outside the city to the Mount of Olives, east of Jerusalem, and sits with the disciples, 400-500 feet above the Temple, looking back at it; the Mount of Olives, this place where just days before he sat on the back of a donkey and rode into Jerusalem; and where, a few days hence, he would pray with such intensity, and be found and betrayed and arrested. They look down upon the city, and he tells them how these things will end. And if we read closely, we see that God is tearing down, but also, building something grand and new: writing the law of love on the hearts of people, as Jeremiah had prophesied long ago, and not rules on the stone tablets of Moses; commandments no longer resting upon the great limestone blocks of temples and sanctuaries and monuments, but goodness and mercy inscribed upon kind hearts and minds, and hands that help. This is
ultimate good news. But we know, too, it is so hard. The law of love etched on hearts is difficult- requiring diligence, watchfulness; it means suffering sometimes. But it is always hopeful; because it connects us to the heart of the Savior who suffered, and to the hearts and lives of those who suffer and worship with us. Do not be led astray, Jesus says: we need one another; the community, bound together by grace and compassion, is the hope of the world. We may read this chapter of troublesome predictions and feel slightly- or greatly- pessimistic; we may think, If I had known all this came with it, I wouldn t have signed on. We may want to say this is too depressing, that we want to believe in a God of joy and praise and new life; we come to church to sing and worship and give thanks, and have fellowship and enjoy our friends. Of course we do, nothing wrong with that! But love written on hearts will not allow only the simple, easy way so long as there are empty bellies and injustice, and torture and imprisonment and killing. This is a difficult passage of scripture, but to those hurting, it is a word of forewarning, and even comfort, a word of grace, as one writer has put it, to promote faith and obedience in a time of distress and upheaval. And for us who are well and cared for, it is a call to be faithful to the Lord, who himself has suffered, and to take upon ourselves the hurt of others. This
is an urgent message of hope for all of us, that God is close by, that hope and joy are still possible in the midst of the pains and losses. Take heed, Jesus commands: don t be anxious, do not turn back, pray, learn, keep watch. Take heed. These are marching orders, if we will understand how the world may be saved: that salvation doesn t so much happen in the sacrifices of temples; it doesn t happen in the old cathedrals of Europe, or the 6,000 seat auditoriums and sanctuaries of modern America. Not even in humble little churches like ours. It happens when we will not be led astray by lies or pride or fear, or dread of change; it happens in this act of standing strong with sisters and brothers, and as we obey God s great command to love one another. These words are God s guarantee. A promise, if we will just hold on when the world doesn t make sense, or when it hurts too much. Two things: Jesus urges us not to be led astray; and assures us that nothing can take us from him. Verse 35 tells us, that all the things on this earth and everything in the cosmos out there may someday pass away, but God s word of love will never go away. And so, we hope. We may wonder, how to define this thing that lasts? It s very clear, our love is here to stay. In the words of this famous song, lyricist Ira Gershwin
informs us that in time the Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble; they re only made of clay. But our love is here to stay. If we wanted, we could use this song as a hymn; that answers the most important questions about our life and faith. Love remains, even if the earth were to break apart; even if hundred-ton stones were torn down, love remains. And so, Be careful not to be led astray, because the love we have together as the fellowship of Jesus will last forever. It is a promise. Let s remember, especially this week, to give thanks for the love of God that binds us to one another. God has created in us new hearts. Let us give these hearts- full of love- to the work of the kingdom of God, and offer our bodies, and minds and hands and feet, as temples of sacrifice to do the will of our Lord.