“As
for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be
left upon another; all will be thrown down.” (Luke 21:6)
As a general rule I really hate apocalyptic literature. I don’t even like to see dystopian sci-fi movies or read whacky novels about some horrifying future world. The current world is horrifying enough for me, thank you very much. Unfortunately, the gospel lesson appointed for Pentecost 23, Year C in the RCL (Luke 21:5-19), sometimes called “Luke’s Apocalypse[i],” requires that I address the subject—which I’ll have to do again in just two more weeks when Advent 1 rolls around. Bummer.
In the gospel story Jesus makes some rather unpleasant predictions. It’s interesting to notice that his disciples never ask him how he knows this bad stuff is going to hit the fan. They take it for granted that the Lord knows what he’s talking about. Their big question is about when it’s all going to go down. Maybe they want to cross a few things off their bucket lists or buy some more life insurance or dig a survival bunker or something before they have to deal with persecution, jail, and the cataclysmic end of civilization as they’ve known it. I mean, wouldn’t you?
Jesus, however, is more concerned that they not get fooled by some slick huckster prophesying the End Times. This sort of thing was pretty common in Jesus’ day, and it’s never lost its popularity. Throughout history a host of nitwits have been trying to tell us they know the exact moment when God will pull the plug on the world and bring in the Great Tribulation, the Rapture, or whatever[ii].
None of them got it right. There will always be wars and insurrections and earthquakes and all kinds of nasty stuff. I’ll grant that now of days, what with weird viruses, climate change, catastrophic weather events, mass extinctions of species, and—let’s not forget—a world full of crazy idiots, some of whom have their fingers on the buttons that launch thermonuclear weapons, it really does seem that the end is in sight. “So, Pastor Owen,” you ask, “are we really living in the End Times?” I can give you two answers.
Answer One: Yup. It’s always the End Times. A sudden heart attack, a careless driver, a stray bullet[iii]—you name it. Today could be anyone’s End Time. So, you’d better get right with God and everybody else. Now.
Answer Two: Can’t say for sure, but things
don’t look good. This leaves us with the choice of either saying, “Guess it’s just
God’s will. We’re all screwed. Been nice knowing you!” OR, deciding we need to face
our challenges and ask for the Lord’s guidance in correcting the world’s
situation. Which one do you think God would want us to pick?
The destruction of the temple has been a lot on my mind lately. When that monstrous masterpiece of architecture into which Herod the Great had poured so much finery was finally reduced to a pile of rocks by the Romans in 70 CE, the whole religious landscape changed. What would’ve happened—do you think?—had Rome not destroyed the temple? Would the people have gone their merry way sacrificing animals on the altar in Jerusalem until PETA or some other animal rights group put them out of business? Would they ever have hungered for a new kind of religious expression which didn’t involve temple purity rules or ethnic allegiance? Would the Christian faith have grown at the rate it did if everything stayed the same?
As I look at the religious landscape of America today, I think it might be time that our temples came down. Literally. Since World War II Americans have constructed hundreds or maybe thousands of church buildings. Most of these, I’d be willing to bet, have not the splendid iconography and soaring, inspiring beauty of the medieval cathedrals nor the homely simplicity of the clapboard prairie church. They are caught somewhere in the middle of the two styles—gigantic in size to hold massive pipe organs and space for a 40-voice choir, but not overly ornate lest they be thought idolatrous. They’re actually rather boring.
They are also no longer functional. They
cost fortunes to heat, cool, insure, and repair. They gulp down endowment funds
while sitting empty six days a week and only a quarter full on the sabbath.
Meanwhile, the rest of the church compounds are anthills of activity Monday
through Friday. There are nursery schools, food banks, 12-step meetings, seniors’
groups, after school drop-in centers, and myriads of other community-centered services
being provided. Our churches have become community centers.
A center like this could be a joint project between ecumenical partners who share the worship space. The different entities which use space in the facility could contribute to its upkeep just as many such organizations contribute to our parishes already. Best of all, we can hope such a space will feel welcoming to everyone regardless of faith tradition. Even the 30% of Americans who claim no affiliation or religious preference will not feel intimidated.
Out of the old something new will be born—and Jesus will be present through it. I can’t wait.
[i]
I’m not sure by whom.
[ii] There
is an exhaustive list of Second Coming false prophets on Wikipedia. If you want
a good chuckle, click on: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Predictions_and_claims_for_the_Second_Coming
[iii]
Very common if you live in Philadelphia.
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