1 Samuel 1.4-20
The Song of Hannah
Hebrews 10.11-25
Mark 13:1-11
Sunday 17 November
©Suzanne Grimmett
‘Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!’
We might imagine the disciples stepping out from the shadows of such a glorious building, the centre of sacred worship and identity, and feeling that there, at least, is a foundation for their lives. There is God’s glory within stone and brick, an invitation into God’s presence and the cultic practices that bring together the people of God. The restoration of that temple must have seemed a worthy goal- one that would have carried incredible meaning and been an enduring source of celebration for God’s people.
And yet as they speak these words, these disciples may have been, like Jesus, leaving it for the last time, never to return. This reading, occurring as it does before the feast day traditionally known as Christ the King, is known as “the little apocalypse”. It is the day, as we approach Advent and prepare for the coming reign of God, that we are destabilised and shown the reality that much of what we thought was solid and unmoving will not be an enduring foundation.
‘See these great buildings?’ says Jesus. ‘Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’
The remaining enormous foundation stones of the temple still cause wonder and amazement for visitors to Jerusalem today. It is not surprising that the disciples placed such confidence in this structure which would have looked like it could never be undone. It is, of course, not just about the building itself, be it ever so wondrous, but what the temple represented and the socio-religious role it played in the lives of Jewish worshippers. It would have been incomprehensible to the awe-struck disciples that this would all be burned down, both the edifice and the practice, in the violent Jewish revolt against the Romans in 70 CE.
I wonder what things seem similarly incomprehensible today? What structures, socio-political systems and religious foundations seemed permanent, and yet you have discovered they are not?
It can feel a bit like the loss of innocence when some of our foundational beliefs and structures are demolished. Unlike my children, I grew up in an age when it seemed the increasing democratisation of the world would bring greater human flourishing, equality and justice across the globe. A few things seemed ultra reliable- like the news services delivering a balanced version of events. While there was always the threat of a return to armed conflict, we mostly could not foresee the way technology would change our ways of life, that a few billionaires would grow to have such great political influence and that the thing that is social media would emerge and harness extremist views. Many of us still carried naïve views about the trustworthiness of the church- something which the uncovering of sexual abuse has shaken to its core and continues to shake us, as stories emerge like the one which prompted the Archbishop of Canterbury’s resignation this week.
So, the little apocalypse today may feel an appropriate statement of the reality of the world, and not just a prophetic word about the destruction of the Jewish temple. Jesus says, ‘When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come.’ Suffering is a thing in this earthly life. Jesus never tells us that his coming will prevent suffering, but he promises it will reveal the truth about reality and the presence of God with us as all things are made new. The kingdom is on its way, bringing to light all things that were hidden, but there will be birth pangs and struggle.
Just as the disciples did not understand when Jesus spoke about the destruction of the temple, so too they did not understand when he located the new thing that God was doing in his own body. Mark’s Gospel records this claim in a twisted form being used as evidence against Jesus in his trial; “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.’” (Mark 14:58)
Jesus, in saying that he could raise the temple up in three days, is pointing to the new creation, ushered in by his death and resurrection, where the people of God will worship not in the temple but ‘in spirit and in truth’ (John 4:24). The destruction of the temple may look like the end of all things, but because God has infiltrated the human condition, endings no longer are final, but only the precursors to new beginnings.
It is why we as the Church should be the first to not be dismayed, but hold on to resurrection hope, even when it feels like our innocence is lost and so many things we previously thought certain now seem broken, precarious or illusory. There will be suffering and we will need to do the work of grief, but Jesus has pronounced blessed those who are poor, blessed those who mourn and blessed even are the persecuted. This is a way of peace that does not need to be afraid because the self-interested reign of this world’s kings ultimately will not hold. Being resurrection people, we have the Spirit to guide us in discerning those things which are impermanent, even when they appear solid, and, conversely, to help us recognise that which is eternal.
So how might we practise locating that kind of eternal horizon from which to navigate our lives amidst the tumult of change? As we prepare for the earth-shaking, paradigm-shifting event of the Christ of God coming amongst us in enfleshed vulnerability, we might recall the prophetic words that pointed to this arrival. We might think of the young woman, Mary of Nazareth, who glimpsed that alternate horizon and saw a time when the Lord would cast down the mighty from their thrones and fill the hungry with good things…sending the rich away empty but promising mercy from generation to generation. We have in today’s Song of Hannah another young woman who was glimpsing this upside-down kingdom where ‘the bows of the mighty are broken, and the feeble gird on strength’. ‘There is no rock like you, our God’ sings Hannah, pointing to where the only firm foundation may be found. Jesus in his life repeatedly condemns all those systems, and particularly religious systems, that are invested in making wealth and wielding power, creating kingdoms that will not last. Instead, we are to put our faith in the one who comes with the power of love, building a community of friends who do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly.
Yet even the most faithful can falter in the face of reckless hate, dominating power and the triumph of the greedy. This is where the counsel from the letter to the Hebrews may speak, telling us to ‘hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful.’ We place our confidence not in structures or institutions but in the God who holds us in life, love and relationship. And we are not meant to be alone in holding hope but told to ‘provoke one another to love and good deeds’. Sometimes it might feel in the church that it is rather that we just provoke one another (!), but this is no reason to abandon the gathering of community. Without sharing our lives, we cannot become the expression of God’s new kingdom on earth- a kingdom built with Christ as the sure foundation. And if God would see in humanity, and in each of us, a precious and beloved creation, so too we are called to see in one another, as flawed as we all are, the very image of Christ. As we gather around the eucharistic table, we are reminded that we cannot bow to the presence of Christ in the sacrament without also bowing to the presence of Christ in one another. As we honour each another, we are also to keep provoking one another so the world may come to experience the kindness of God in Christ through our creative acts of love.
So may we hold fast that which we know to be true eternally. May we encourage one another to prayer and to the daily commitments of our faith, because many have lost faith and consequently, hope. May we practice daily choosing love over apathy, mercy over judgment, and kindness over intolerance so that others may see that in Christ, there is both a firm foundation and a coming new creation.
+Amen