Sunday, November 16, 2025

The Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 28 C, November 16, 2025

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, New York

Br. Robert James Magliula

The Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost, November 16, 2025







            It’s easy to see why some people might think that the world is ending. Just hold up a newspaper in one hand and Luke’s gospel in the other. “Nations will rise against nation”. There will be great earthquakes. In various places famines and plagues. Dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. They will arrest you and persecute you.” Of course that depends chiefly on who you are, how rich you are, what color you are, or where you’re from. Security, peace, and diplomacy have given way to fear, violence, war, and terrorism. It seems like Temples are falling everywhere.

This frightening passage not only looks forward; it also looks back to the many times before now when humanity experienced all these things and believed their world was coming to an end, only it didn’t. The inexplicable delay in the coming of our Lord at the end time was one of the stickiest problems the early church had to face. Jesus himself did not seem to know the answer. “Truly, I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place”, he said, over two thousand years ago.

            He says it as part of his last public teaching. He has come to Jerusalem knowing he will collide with the authorities there. He is sitting in the temple talking with his disciples when some of them begin to admire the place, commenting on how beautiful the stone is, and the gifts dedicated to God. Anyone who knows me would not be surprised that I would be part of that conversation or maybe even initiate it. Then Jesus reminds them that it will all be ruins someday.

            He doesn’t say it to be cruel. He is simply telling them the truth---that the things of this world will not last---that even some place as stunning and holy as the temple will become a ruin when the old world collapses in on itself. The temple was the center of Jewish life. It was what structured their community and gave identity and meaning. It’s the kind of news that makes you look around for someone who can save you---someone who seems to have access to God’s calendar and who will tell you exactly when the ship starts to sink so that you can make it to the lifeboats in time.

            Only Jesus does not recommend that course of action. He warns against it, in fact. “Beware that you are not led astray,” he tells those gathered around him; “for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Do not go after them. Do not be terrified.

We all have temples. Some have been given to us, others we have built for ourselves. Sometimes our temples are people, places, values and beliefs, institutions, dreams. They are the things that we think structure and order our lives, give meaning and identity, providing security and stability. At least we think they do, until they fall. We may not like it, we may deny it, we may resist it, but the reality is things are changing. Our world is changing, our country is changing, our lives are changing. These are dark days when change brings loss or the fear of loss. Darkness, I’ve discovered, is often the way we come to see.  It may create the depressions that, once faced, teach us to trust.  It gives us the sensitivity it takes to understand the depth of the pain in others. It seeds in us the humility it takes to learn to live gently with the rest of the universe. It opens us to new possibilities within ourselves.

Change has a way of pushing us into the future. Many people will begin looking for signs about the future. But if we’re not careful, we will be living in a future created in our heads. When Jesus describes things that will happen, he is not asking us to speculate about the future. He is offering signs that call us to be faithful in the present.

According to Luke’s Gospel they are not signs of God’s absence but signs of God’s sure and certain presence. Nothing is going on that is unknown to God---not the things in the news or the things in our lives. God sees them and encourages us not to be terrified. To become terrified is to become part of the problem. God has something else in mind, what Jesus calls endurance. When all that is lovely to you, when all that is holy looks as if it may soon be reduced to rubble, do not lose heart. Do not be terrified. Hold on to one another and follow through. By your endurance you will gain your souls.  Staying in communion with one another---holding onto one another through all the storms that blow around us---that is how we know that God is still with us, no matter what the headlines say. Come injustices, wars, persecutions, earthquakes, plagues, famines, we are to hold on to one another---we are to endure ---because holding on to one another is how we hold on to our Lord.

Sometimes, after our temples fall, we look for a scapegoat, someone to blame or even demonize. We look for someone or a group who does not think, act, or believe like we do. Democrats and Republicans blame each other as do the conservatives and the liberals. Some simply give up and despair. Some become angry, resentful, and fight back. Others will say it’s God’s will or even God’s punishment. Many will look for easy answers, quick fixes, something that will prop up the old structures and ways of doing things. None of these are Jesus’ response.

So, what do we do on the day our temples fall?

Jesus’ response is: Be still, be quiet, do not be led astray. Do not allow your life to be controlled or determined by fear. Do not listen to the many voices that would cause you to run and go after them. Endure, he says. Be faithful, steadfast, persevere here and now. He is calling us to be present and faithful in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. If we cannot find God here, in our present circumstances, even amid our temple ruins, we will find God nowhere. Too often, we believe and live as if the fallen temple is the end of the story. It will be if we run away, scapegoat, respond with anger, or try to put it back together like it used to be. The new story is how we discovered God beside us in the temple ruins and how God rebuilt what we could not. It is the ongoing story of God recreating life out of loss, a story of God rejoicing and delighting in us.

The place of fallen temples is the place in which God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, declares: “I am about to create new heavens and new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it or the cry of distress” (Isaiah 65:17-19).

Those promises are fulfilled through our endurance, our stability, by remaining fully present, faithful, no matter how dark or uncomfortable life may be. In so doing we discover that God has always been with us – in the changes, chances, and chaos of life; in the pain, loss, and disappointment; in the destruction of our temples. Endurance, perseverance, stability are the ways in which we offer God the fallen stones of our temples. Stone by stone God will restore the beauty of our life and world. Stone by stone a new temple arises from the rubble, and we are that temple.

Do not be terrified, he said, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”    +Amen.

No comments: