Twenty third Sunday after Pentecost November 16, 2003.

Daniel 12:1-3

Psalm 16

Hebrews 10:11-14 [15-18] 19-25

Mark 13:1-8

First Reading

Our readings shift from life in God's reign to the coming of the reign of God. The reading from Daniel is the climax of the last vision of the book (11:2-12:13). It furnishes a portrait of the transition to the time of God's salvation. This transition will be traumatic. "There shall be a time of anguish, such as never occurred since nations came into existence" (12:1). Then Michael, Israel's angelic guardian, shall intervene, and those whose names are written in the book, known to God as faithful, shall be delivered. This is the earliest unambiguous declaration of resurrection.

Our reading from Hebrews contrasts the many, repeated sacrifices of the old priesthood with the single, eternally effective sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Following his sacrifice, Jesus is described as sitting at God's right hand until his enemies are defeated (cf. Psalm 110). An eschatological dimension is added using Jeremiah 31:33-34. Believers enter into a new, inward relationship with God through the intercession of Jesus Christ and his enthronement in the coming reign.

The Gospel reading is part of the last extended teaching of Jesus in Mark's Gospel (13:1-32) and is addressed to Jesus' followers. Commonly known as the "little apocalypse," the chapter incorporates many OT passages, motifs common in Jewish and early Christian apocalyptic, and genuine sayings of Jesus. Verses 1-2 report the total destruction of the temple. Verse 4 might be two questions: the time of this destruction and the signs by which one might know the time. Verses 3-4 make clear that Mark understands the destruction of the temple as an eschatological event that is part of both God's judgment and the chaos of the end.

Pastoral Reflection

I remember with longing the last time I preached on these texts. Then the question that confounded me was how to make "all these things"--the great stones of buildings thrown down, wars and rumors of wars, nation rising against nation, earthquake and famine--relevant to people's lives. Today, the United States occupies Iraq. The news reports explosions in Saudi Arabia, the worst terrorist attack against Americans since 9/ 11. This time they went into people's homes. Are these "birth pangs," and of what? The pax americana or the reign of God or something else? And what do we preach to this new reality?

Recall what got Jesus started on all this talk of gloom and doom. As they were exiting the temple, one of the disciples pointed out the great stones and the great buildings. In Jesus' day the temple was surely the symbol of Jewish national and religious identity. Like the Trade Towers and the Pentagon, it stood for all that the nation stands for. With dazzling white stone walls and so much gold that the sun's reflection blinded onlookers, the temple stood for blessing, prosperity, accomplishment. The problem is that the completed temple only stood for seven short years before it was destroyed with all the rest of Jerusalem. "Not one stone will be left upon another," Jesus says, "all will be thrown down." Jesus looks to that day when the nation's edifice would be destroyed. And he promises that, rather than the end, they are the birth pangs of a new aeon, and new order, and a new reign.

How often we stand and admire our accomplishments--our towering cities, our military power, our technology, our democracy. And even when we're face to face with their destruction, we fail to fully grasp how fleeting these things really are. Almost as they are falling, our first instinct is to rebuild, to seek to get back to "normal," to somehow assure ourselves that we're in control, that we can, in fact, direct our destiny and save ourselves. It's too scary to acknowledge that, no matter how tight our airport security, how high our economic activity, how broad our celebration of democracy, how awesome our military might, in the end, death will have its way, not only with us but also with our institutions and our accomplishments. It's too scary to admit that, no matter how hard we try, we cannot save ourselves.

In these days when America is trying so hard to hold on to itself, to its power, to its institutions and its way of life, Jesus speaks the life-giving word that, when our airplanes crash and our skyscrapers crumble, when our economy shrinks and our military might leaves us powerless, God in Christ will save us. When not one stone is left upon another, Jesus, the stone that the builders rejected, stands firm. Jesus stands as the cornerstone of God's new order. For the God of Golgotha is the God of Auschwitz and Manhattan and Afghanistan and Iraq. And, more than being in the worst of it with us, Jesus brings us to new life. And so we pray "Thy kingdom come" expecting that it will. And when Christ comes, the imperfection of our systems, the injustice of our courts, the poor in our land, even the power of our hate will be no more.

"When?" the disciples want to know. And so do we. These days many are reading the supposed signs and predicting when Christ and Christ's reign will come. Jesus warns us, "Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, 'I am the one!'" These are the ones who claim to have all the answers about when and how, the ones who think they know exactly what God is doing and offer us a calendar of the final coming events.

Hebrews reminds us that we are saved by the single eternally effective sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Jesus did not resort to power and might. Instead he made a home with those thrown down. The answer to the question of when is this: When Jesus died on the cross!