Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Sermon for the 26th Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Grace and Canadochly on November 18, 2018
Preaching text: Mark 13:1-8

There is a joke I like to tell about my experiences going to visit Manhattan. You can always tell those who are tourists in NYC, because they're always the ones doing this. (Look up.) I'll confess I'm one of them. Now I've been to NYC dozens of times. I've visited other big cities numerous times as well, yet I am always ALWAYS awestruck by the immense size of the Manhattan skyline. All those skyscrapers, all over the place. Among my myriad interests, I love interesting architecture and Manhattan has that in spades. I get a crick in my neck just taking it all in. As do many many others.


It's easy therefore for me to imagine the disciples in Jesus' day having the same reaction in Jerusalem. While the buildings of that time would not compare to today's architectural wonders, they would be some of the largest and most impressive structures of their time. Antonia fortress, Herod's palace, the Temple, all among some of the largest buildings in the world at that time and would have awestruck anyone who was used to the simple one-story structures of your typical Palestinian village. No wonder they respond to them the way they do in our Gospel lesson today.


Jesus however pours cold water on their mood. "All this that you see will soon no longer exist." He wasn't wrong either. Some 40 years later, the Romans would march into Jerusalem to quell the rebellion there and sack the city, destroying everything: the temple, the palaces, even their own fortress. All would become ruin.

Nothing lasts forever.

Which is a lesson none of us humans are terribly keen on hearing. We hunger for a sort of physical immortality. Even when we're aware of our own death whenever it comes, we hope for something of our life to linger after us, something we created: a story, a work of art, an institution we were a part of, a family, anything that might carry forward a part of us into an infinite future. The greater or more impressive that thing is, the more we reason it will last forever. But they never do.

How many stories were written in the Middle Ages by people not named Chaucer? Do you even remember who he is and his most famous work? How many symphonies were composed by people not named Beethoven or Mozart or Brahms? Will any of them still be remembered in a generation or two? How many buildings built by the great architects of the 18th century still stand? Can you name any of their builders? No, time erodes all. I'm reminded of a line in one of my favorite films, Excalibur, where the wizard Merlin chastises King Arthur and his knights: "For it is the doom of men that they forget."

Indeed we do. Nothing lasts forever.

Jesus reminds us of this and then launches into another warning. Be not so easily impressed by those who come into the world making wild claims. Those who would claim the mantle of Messiah and savior, who say they will build that which will last forever. Many of them will even claim to speak for Christ himself.

We've already seen some of these sorts over the past several centuries. The corrupt popes of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance claimed to speak for Christ, and in Jesus' name, they launched Crusades, Inquisitions, genocides, and witch burnings. Blood upon blood, all in the name of the one who said to love our enemies and to forgive those who persecute and abuse us. Hitler promised a 1000 year Reich and said he would restore Germany to its true Christian origins and yet he washed Europe in the blood of millions before he was stopped. Even today, there are those who claim to follow Christ and yet call upon those who will listen to them to hate those who are different, to destroy the gay or the black or the Latino, who will demand we enslave anew women as was done in past generations, and say this is all God's will. Putin in Russia remains popular despite his brutality precisely because these are his claims and now there are far too many here in American who admire him as well and for those same reasons.

"Deus vult!" God wills it! The call of the Crusaders from a thousand years ago still echoes today and, as it did then, leads only to evil. And that's precisely what happens when we forget who Jesus really is.

It's a sad truth when we look through history to see how many atrocities have been committed by those who claim to follow Christ and yet seem to have no remembrance of his teachings. Jesus loved his enemies, forgave even those who crucified him. He healed the sick, welcomed the stranger, made disciples of the outcast. He welcomes all who came to him: Jew, Samaritan, Greek, Roman. It didn't matter where you came from, what nation claimed your allegiance, or even what gods you worshiped. How many of the charlatans who followed after him and claimed to work in his name did likewise?

Jesus' warning is to remind us that their work will not last, no more so than the impressive buildings of Jerusalem. Their foundation is in human vice and ambition, not in God's true will. If we seek what is truly eternal, what is truly immortal, there's only one place to look: To Jesus himself and not to those who claim to be like him. All else is vanity. All else will fade away.

As we live into the times of tumult that Jesus warned us about, let's not forget Jesus. Let's not forget his teachings or his actions. He who went to the cross and the empty tomb for all of humanity, not just one part or our part. He who loved all, embraced all, forgave all. These are the marks of eternity. These are what will truly last forever. Do not forget. Amen.

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