Sermon for Year B, Proper 28
By The Rev. Torey Lightcap
November 18, 2012
St. Thomas Episcopal Church
“Fire”
“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.’”
What
happens when the Temple’s destroyed?
Or
in other words,
What happens when one of the most important
Things in your whole life is suddenly gone?
Jerusalem,
the city where the Temple was located,
Was beseiged by the Romans in the year 70,
Around the same time Mark was writing his
gospel,
And the Temple was destroyed by fire.
There
was only one eyewitness at the time – a man called Josephus.
Josephus
wrote that as rebels fought Romans in this battle,
The fight came closer and closer to the
Temple;
And that, quote, “without awaiting any orders
And with no dread of so momentous a deed,
But urged on by some supernatural force,
[A soldier] snatched a blazing piece of
wood and, climbing on another soldier’s back,
Hurled the flaming brand through a low golden
window that gave access …
To the rooms that surrounded the
sanctuary.”
Josephus
continues:
“...No
exhortation or threat could now restrain the impetuosity of the legions;
For passion was in supreme command.
Crowded
together around the entrances, many were trampled down by their companions;
Others,
stumbling on the smoldering and smoked-filled ruins of the porticoes,
Died as miserably as the defeated.
As
they drew closer to the Temple, they pretended not even to hear Caesar’s
orders,
But urged the men in front to throw in more
firebrands.
The
rebels were powerless to help; carnage and flight spread throughout.
Most
of the slain were peaceful citizens, weak and unarmed,
And they were butchered where they were
caught.
The
heap of corpses mounted higher and higher about the altar;
A stream of blood flowed down the Temple’s
steps,
And the bodies of those slain at the top
slipped to the bottom.
When
Caesar failed to restrain the fury of his frenzied soldiers,
And the fire could not be checked, he
entered the building with his generals
And looked at the holy place of the sanctuary
and all its furnishings,
Which exceeded by far the accounts current
in foreign lands
And fully justified their splendid repute
in our own.
As
the flames had not yet penetrated to the inner sanctum,
But were consuming the chambers that
surrounded the sanctuary,
Titus assumed correctly that there was still
time to save the structure;
He ran out and by personal appeals he endeavored
to persuade his men
To put out the fire, instructing
Liberalius, a centurion of his bodyguard of lancers,
To club any of the men who disobeyed his
orders.
But
their respect for Caesar
And their fear of the centurion’s staff who
was trying to check them
Were overpowered by their rage, their
detestation of the Jews,
And an utterly uncontrolled lust for
battle.
[Let
me just stop a moment and say that Josephus worked for Caeasar as he wrote
this,
So he was ready to give the benefit of the
doubt to Titus.
Now, to continue, quote,]
“Most
[soliders] were spurred on, moreover, by the expectation of loot,
Convinced that the interior was full of money
and dazzled by observing
That everything around them was made of
gold.
But
they were forestalled by one of those who had entered into the building,
And who, when Caesar dashed out to restrain
the troops,
Pushed a firebrand, in the darkness, into
the hinges of the gate.
Then,
when the flames suddenly shot up from the interior,
Caesar and his generals withdrew, and no
one was left to prevent those outside
From kindling the blaze.
Thus,
in defiance of Caesar’s wishes, the Temple was set on fire.
While
the Temple was ablaze, the attackers plundered it,
And countless people who were caught by
them were slaughtered.
There
was no pity for age and no regard was accorded rank;
Children and old men, laymen and priests,
alike were butchered;
Every class was pursued and crushed in the
grip of war,
Whether they cried out for mercy or
offered resistance.
Through
the roar of the flames streaming far and wide,
The groans of the falling victims were
heard;
Such was the height of the hill and the
magnitude of the blazing pile
That
the entire city seemed to be ablaze;
And the noise – nothing more deafening
and frightening could be imagined.”
|
The
Temple. Gone.
In
the end, although it is holy and blessed, and set apart, it burns like any
other.
Meanwhile,
today, Jesus is agitating.
In
the second chapter of John,
We read of his confrontation in Jerusalem
over this building complex
And the system that actually steals widows’
homes away from them.
He
drives out the money-changers and turns over their tables.
“What
sign can you show us for doing this?” they ask.
A sign? Jesus says. You want a sign?
Destroy this
Temple, and I’ll raise it up in three days.
John
adds rather smoothly that Jesus is talking about his body.
In
Luke, Jesus the twelve-year-old is the master of the Temple;
He’s found there by his worried parents,
As he confounds the teachers and stuns his
listerners.
In
Matthew, Jesus cleanses the Temple, calling all the vendors robbers,
And in the same breath, curing the lepers and the blind,
As the children surround him in the Temple
And call him out by title: “Hosanna to the Son
of David.”
Everyone
who wrote a gospel, had a specific use and purpose for Jesus in the Temple.
It’s
complicated, like always.
But
not one gospel writer was ignorant of the fact
That the Temple was gone. It Was History.
Reduced to ashes and rubble.
Everybody
knew it.
“Do
you see these great buildings?” he’d asked them.
“Not
one stone,” he’d said –
“Not
one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
The
house of God, that had sacrificed the smoking of flesh animals,
Was itself now cinders.
What
then? What? …
In
our country, in our day and age,
There are hard-won stories about
congregations whose buildings burn …
Stories of people who rise up out of the ash
And somehow, through the tragedy and the
ruin, they manage to find themselves
The same people of God they’ve been all along;
Who somehow renew, build again, or don’t
build but are just as happy.
Some
with insurance, some in new places, some in new buildings. New hope, new life.
And
others who just aren’t able to make the turn, and who walk away in grief.
In
Jesus’ day the case was more extreme, for this was the one and the only such
Temple.
The
second such Temple built – now gone, just like the first.
So
with the Jewish rebellion slowly extinguishing,
And with thousands of Jews sent away to work
the mines in Egypt,
And with many other Jews being used for the
amusement of the empire,
There was
then no hope of rebuilding.
But
people of faith, I want you to understand,
By their nature and because they believe in
hope, are naturally inventive.
A
new teaching was issued forth, which was actually an old teaching.
The
word began to spread :
God is no longer just on clay tablets or just
in buildings!
Write his law on your heart and affix his word
square to your mind,
Where it cannot be taken away!
Some
also said, In time … in time, a third
Temple will rise:
And it shall be a house of prayer for all
people.
Even
so. Today we hear Jesus’ condemnation of the building in front of him,
And we have to ask ourselves
The question from the very beginning:
What
do you do when the center of the world is torn away?
The
long view of history is simply this:
Many people across many times and cultures
have lost their sacred temples,
Their libraries and sacred texts and
artifacts,
Along with their land and their livelihood,
And
over time, perhaps even their language, their ways, their very sense of self.
Some
rose up and went about their way; some did not rise; most are trying.
I
believe, brothers and sisters, that it comes to this:
Where
is God, and what is God up to?
For
if God truly is intimately interconnected in all of life,
Then God is immediately and totally
accessible, with no mediation at all.
A
temple may help, a priest may aid, but no mediation is truly
necessary.
That
is a fact, and whether we want to acknowledge it has nothing to do with it,
Except that acknowledging it puts us in the
flow of God in life,
Rather than our meager attempts to block that
flow.
God
is immediately and totally accessible, meaning everywhere all the time.
If
we do anything here other than to offer ourselves in worship,
It is simply that we help to remind ourselves
that that is so,
And we invite others in so that they can
crack that truth open for themselves.
And
if God is immediately and totally accessible,
Then it follows that God is always and
everywhere giving God away.
Where
is God, and what is God up to?
God
is in all times and places, even in our ragged and petty hearts,
Loving creation totally, without exception,
And just giving God away.
What
else could Jesus Christ and the message of the cross and empty tomb possibly
be?
It
also follows on that wherever you find this, …
Whenever you stop long enough to really
connect with it,
Whenever you know beyond knowing that you
really and truly are loved
By a force that is continually giving itself
away, …
You find it’s like a warm spark on a cold
morning,
And you want to breathe on that spark
because of course you don’t want to lose it,
And you want to move that spark onto
something that you know will catch fire –
A little kindling of some kind, stubble
or straw –
And more air over the surface of it as
begins to catch and warm,
And you want to feed it with twigs and
small branches
And little logs and thick logs
And you want to warm up your whole being
in it;
And of course, you want to call others over
to it, too,
Because if God is in the business of giving God away,
As audacious as it sounds, … so
should you.
In
our day, in our time,
That act of kindling and breathing and
stoking the fire –
It happens with giving away money and giving
away time,
And it happens with giving away the things
we’re best at doing
And are most naturally inclined to –
Sacrificing ourselves for the sake of
others, and expecting nothing in return.
Three
of the most precious commodities in our lives –
Our money, our time, and our talents –
That’s what it takes
To turn a spark into a roaring blaze.
The
sort of fire that does not destroy,
But rather purifies the giver.
Amen.
1 comment:
..."The sort of fire that does not destroy,
But rather purifies the giver."
It not only purifies the giver but gives that giver strength to continue in difficult days!! Great sermon, Torey.
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