Luke 21:5-19
When some of them were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, Jesus said to them, “As for these things that you see, the time will come when not one stone will be left upon another. All will be thrown down.” They said to him, “Teacher, when will this be? What will be the sign that this is about to take place?” Jesus answered them, “Beware that you are not led astray. Many will come, in my name, and say, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time is near,’ do not go after them.”
“When you hear about wars and insurrections, do not be terrified. These things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately. There will be great earthquakes and, in various places, famines and plagues. There will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.”
“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you. You will be handed over to synagogues and prisons. You will be brought before kings and governors, because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify, so make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance, for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed by parents and brothers, friends and relatives, and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair on your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.”
This reading usually shows up in the most untimely way for us around here. I mean, it always shows up in November, on or around the Sunday when we are supposed to be praying about and planning for our financial commitments to the Building Fund – which we will do next week, if you haven’t read or heard about that, yet.
So what I mean is, around this time of year, during this season of our life together, we very often get this bit from Luke’s Gospel where Jesus warns the disciples about making too much of their temple. As I’m typically hard at work stewing about prayer vigils, capital campaign packets, mortgage payments, and financial commitments, Jesus says, “As for these things that you see, this stuff that you’ve built – these beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God – the day is coming when not one stone will be left upon another. All will be thrown down.”
And that’s usually a hard pill to swallow. Like, Jesus is laughing at, if not straight up, flat out, judging our efforts to build what we’ve built here over the years. I mean, there’s nothing like trying to build a thing, investing in everything it takes to build a thing, and have someone remind you that it won’t last for long; maybe that you’re wasting your time; that it’s all going to amount to nothing but rubble in the grand scheme of things anyway. Jesus is like a guy who shows up to the beach to find that a little kid has just built his most prized, perfect, glorious sand castle and, instead of marveling at the hard work and majesty of it all, points out that high tide will be rolling in any minute.
But this year, for the first time, things are different. I can’t disagree with Jesus, of course. Maybe, in some very worldly ways … or from a cosmic kind of perspective … all of this BUILDING is for naught. It won’t last FOREVER, in a physical sense. It will, indeed, crumble to dust, in the end. I get that.
But this year – as we think about praying and planning for our “Building and Outreach Fund” commitments – we get to do that with even more than just our own bricks and mortar on the brain. We get to do that with even more than just mortgage payments and interest rates and financial debt reduction in mind, than we’re used to. We get to think differently about all of this because, for the first time ever, we don’t have a mortgage to pay and because we plan to give 50% of these funds away to mission and ministry outside of our walls; 50% beyond our own bricks and mortar; 50% over and above these stones that will, indeed, someday, all be thrown down, as Jesus promises.
But what’s so exciting and full of hope about things this time around – again, for the first time ever – is that we can’t possibly measure who or how our generosity will change the hearts and lives of others, by the grace we’ll share in the days ahead.
And at the 24 Hour Prayer Vigil next weekend, we’re going to have a chance to share, very plainly and prayerfully what we hope we’ll be able to do in this regard. (Please, please, please sign up to be part of that, if you haven’t already.) We’re going to be able to make prayerful suggestions about the tangible, real-world ways, we hope we’ll use our financial resources to do God’s work in some really new, very meaningful, truly faithful ways.
First, we’ll get to be practical with our prayers. We’ll share the scoop about what we would, could should be saving money for in our rainy day, repair and emergency bucket – stuff like HVAC repairs, parking lot resurfacing, roof replacements, exterior painting, and boring, but necessary, responsible stuff like that.
Second, we’ll be selfish and have some fun as we pray, too, by dreaming about what we might add to or renovate around here – like sanctuary expansion, an outdoor pavilion, better video projection and online technology. Someone I know wants a cement pad for a basketball/pickle ball court of some kind, for instance. Of course, when I say “selfish” I don’t really mean “selfish,” if what we build for ourselves allows us to share grace and good news with more people, in different ways. There’s nothing selfish about that.
And third, we’ll get to offer up ideas, too, about the 50% of it all we plan to give away. Over the years we’ve suggested everything from supporting mission churches and missionaries, to helping people reduce medical debt, to giving more regularly to some of our Mission Sunday organizations, like the Talitha Koum Women’s Recovery House. Someone even has the notion to help fund a Baby Box, somewhere in our community where infants – who would otherwise be abandoned – could be left, safely, to be rescued instead. The possibilities – large and small – really are endless and inspiring.
And all of this is nothing more or less than the testimony Jesus asks of us in today’s Gospel. With our ministry, whether it’s what we preach, teach, or support with our money we tell the world who we are. We tell the world who God is. And we show the world what we’re up to together. With our ministry, whether it’s what we preach, teach or support with our money we welcome the sinner, we tend to the sick, we love those who others refuse to see. It means we tend to sex workers on the east side. It means we fight racism in our midst. It means we support our LGBTQIA brothers, sisters and siblings. It means we build houses in Haiti and churches in Noblesville. It means we are generous and faithful and gracious to a fault – as if that were possible in the Kingdom of God.
We may not be called before kings and governors, in our little corner of the Kingdom. It may not get us killed, these days, in our neck of the woods. But it may mean – as Jesus promises and warns – that some won’t like, or may even hate, what we’re up to. There are people out there who think we’re too generous, too bold, too outspoken about the gospel and grace and good news we share, after all. And I kind of like that. I believe it’s how we endure – and help others endure, too – the hardships of life in this world. And it’s how we find our souls, in the midst of it all, too.
Because, whatever we do and wherever we give and however God leads us, we’re just trying to do what God’s been calling believers to do ever since that day Jesus was milling around in the temple with those very first disciples – reminding them about what really matters on this side of heaven:
Which is to use all of this as our opportunity to testify to what we know of God’s call and God’s kingdom among us: to work for justice; to stand for peace; to repent, ourselves, and to forgive others, too; and to use every blessing at our disposal to bless the world around us with the same grace that we have first received. That’s the Kingdom of God alive and well in this place, for the sake of the world. And it’s what will matter – to us and for others – and it’s what will last, long after all of this and all of us are turned to dust.
Amen
