We All Lose Our Jerusalem (Reflections on Pentecost 26, Year B)

“…all will be thrown down.” (Mark 13:2b)

I have a really cool bunch of kids in the Confirmation class I teach. One of them is a talkative little firecracker named Emma. Emma is twelve-years-old and she loves to dance. Last week she told me that she’s motivated to get good marks in the seventh grade so she can get into a good high school.

When I heard this I thought, “Whaaatt??!! You’re worried about getting into a good high school?” In my day, you just went to the high school in your neighborhood. There was no such thing as competing to get into secondary education. It was all pretty much the same. You might worry about a good college, but nobody stressed over high school.

Suddenly I realized how much the world has changed. I started to recognize that kids today are under a lot more stress than I was at their age. They all carry phones with them now. That’s pretty convenient, but it also means that they’re all at risk for being stalked or cyber-bullied. They also worry about getting shot. It seems that some schools even have drills for what to do in the event of an active shooter.

Okay. I taught for several years in the Los Angeles school district and I had some gang kids in my classes. At least two of them were injured in gang-related drive-by shootings. But I never expected or imagined anything like the events of April 20, 1999.

You see, everyone has a day when their Temple crashes, when things they believed in and trusted and felt safe about crumble. We remember the deaths of people like President Kennedy or Dr. King or John Lennon. We remember 9/11. For me, it was the violence of that April day when two disturbed young men opened fire on their classmates at Columbine High in Littleton, Colorado. And it’s the knowledge that Emma and all the other Emmas have never lived in a world where the threat of an active school shooter was not a possibility.

In our Gospel lesson for Pentecost 26 (Mark 13:1-8), Jesus’ disciples are impressed with the grandeur of the Jerusalem Temple. And why wouldn’t they be? It’s, to them, the holiest place on earth. It’s where God receives the sacrifices for sin and grants forgiveness. It’s the center of politics and the pride of their nation. There really can’t be an Israel without this wonderful and freakin’ awesome structure.

But Jesus knows that it’s all just a pile of rocks. For some, the destruction of this monumental edifice is unthinkable. To lose it would be to lose the whole nation and the whole sense of what it means to be a Jew. And yet, all earthly structures—whether buildings, governments, religious institutions, or our sense of safety—are only just marking time on this earth. Loss and change are inevitable.

So Jesus tells us not to be afraid of our losses (v. 7), and he warns us not to believe the hucksters who tell us they can save us from such loss—because they can’t. Jesus calls us to a deeper trust, a trust in his love that allows him to die for us because he knows that the eternal things are not of this world. We all have our Jerusalems. We all have a job or a person or a church or a home or an idea. Something in which we put our faith. We deeply fear losing whatever it is, and we know that we’ll get no advance warning when it is taken from us. But we also must know that through loss something will be found. That is the promise of faith.

I think I get that the kids of today have lost the innocence I might’ve had in the world of my youth. There’s something we all had back then which isn’t there now. But, perhaps I’m finding, even as I worry about my students, a greater sense of compassion is being born in me along with a bit more patience and understanding.

I put it all in God’s hands anyway.

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
no merit of my own I claim, but wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand. 
(Edward Mote, 1797-1874)

Thanks for reading this week, my friend.ossor a church or a home or an idea. Somethingdeas in which we put our faith. We deeply fear their