Thursday, November 6, 2025

Big Buildings and False Prophecies (Reflections on Pentecost 23, Year C 2025)

 


When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, “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 21:5-6)

Sometime around 20 BCE King Herod, the tool of the Roman Empire which had been occupying and oppressing the people of the Promised Land for about forty years, decided he’d make a name for himself. The temple of Jerusalem, the place where pious Jews were supposed to make pilgrimage and offer sacrifices, seemed a little too shabby for a king as magnificent as Herod imagined himself to be. Even though this structure had been the Jews’ place of worship for the last 500 years—ever since their ancestors had returned from captivity in Babylon—Herod just wasn’t impressed. I guess he figured there were more awesome buildings back in Rome, and, wanting to be one of the cool kids, he decided to take the backhoe to the temple and rebuild it bigger and gaudier, making it a titanic reflection of his own titanic ego[i].

Have you noticed how despots love to build gargantuan buildings to celebrate themselves? Hitler planned to build a gigantic domed hall in the center of Berlin which would be so huge it would have its own climate. Of course, he decided to invade Poland instead, and I believe you know the rest. Even if old Adolf had actually constructed this behemoth, it would doubtlessly have been bombed into a giant pile of rubble, ending up not unlike Herod’s great temple which was destroyed by the Romans in the war 70 CE.

In our gospel lesson for Pentecost 23 in the Revised Common Lectionary (Luke 21:5-9), Jesus’ disciples are marveling at Herod’s humongous masterpiece, but Jesus isn’t about to gush over this collection of stones and mortar. He knows that the real temple—the real place of worship—is in the heart of the believer. He also knows that trouble is coming and, however grand this temple might be, it wouldn’t take too much for the Roman army to knock it all to the ground.

This observation rather naturally causes some alarm for the disciples. You can’t blame them for wanting a little bit of a heads up if there’s going to be a massively destructive war on the homefront. Like everyone else, they want to be able to read the tea leaves and predict exactly when and how the future will play out.  But Jesus isn’t going to play that game. What does he tell them? The truth. Bad stuff will happen. You know: Like wars and famines and plagues. But this stuff always happens. One disaster won’t necessarily spell the end of time. Nevertheless, there will always be some loud-mouthed bozos who will claim total annihilation is bearing down and will destroy life as we know it unless we follow their inspired lead. Don’t believe those guys.

Interpreting biblical prophecy seems to be a cottage industry in the U.S. For over fifty years we’ve been told by many that we are living in the End Times. “The Rapture is coming,” they say. “Biblical prophecies are unfolding as we speak!” [ii]

If you want to crack the code of Bible prophecy, there’s something important you should know. There is no code. Any coded language used by the Bible writers was meant to be understood by the audiences to whom they wrote and the situations in which those folks found themselves. Some of that message may be permanently lost to antiquity, and we can only speculate on its meaning.

Now imagine Shakespeare saying, “I’m going to write this play called Hamlet. People will think it’s total rubbish, but 400 years from now they’ll understand the secret message in it and it will be a smash!” He’d have been a doofus to have done that. No. He wrote for his own audience in his own day. So did the authors of the Bible. The beauty in our scriptures lies in the fact the wisdom inherent in these stories transcends time, place, and culture and can still speak to us. But the Bible is not a crystal ball for divining the future. To use it as such is disrespectful to the scriptures themselves.

The message about the future in this gospel passage is pretty clear. Jesus tells us that bad stuff will always happen, and that we cannot predict when it all will hit the fan. Nevertheless, we are to persevere in faith. We are to trust God will give us the wisdom we need to withstand everything this unpredictable world wants to throw our way. We’ve made it this far. We can go farther. Buildings and empires crumble. God doesn’t.

Today pious Jews still gather in Jerusalem at the only remaining section of Herod’s massive temple complex, a section of the western wall called the Wailing Wall. One has to wonder why this site causes wailing. Rather than lament for what has been destroyed, wouldn’t it be so much better to rejoice over the faith which has endured? I’m just asking.

It means a lot to me that you came by to visit this week. Leave me a message, copy this post, and have blessed week. See you next time.

 


[i] If you’re into this sort of thing, you might want to know the original temple built by King Solomon around 960 BCE was less than the size of a football field. Herod’s temple complex covered 30 acres.

[ii] The whole doctrine of the rapture (if you can dignify it enough to call it a doctrine) is quite specious. It’s based on a 19th century heresy called dispensationalism. I always recommend you check out The Rapture Exposed: The Message of Hope in the Book of Revelation by Barbara Rossing (Westview Press, 2004).

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