Mark 13: No temple? No problem.

Mark 13 is one of those passages that preachers try to avoid.  Predictions, prophecy, apocalyptic sounding scenarios; few preachers relish having to explain it all.  The easiest thing to do is to avoid it altogether, but I would argue that even if we don’t totally “get it”, we can still learn some very valuable things from what Jesus says in this chapter of Mark’s gospel. 

First of all, the church’s true location is not the building where it meets, but Jesus Christ, and those who follow him as disciples.  By predicting the destruction of the temple, Jesus is showing that faith is about much more than a building.  It was a prediction that would cost Jesus dearly, as it comes up at his trial in 14:58 and at the cross 15:29 (where his words are distorted).  When he says “there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down”, it strikes a very unpatriotic claim.  And yet, when the Roman general and future emperor Titus burned the Jerusalem temple in 70 AD, unfound reserves of gold melted and ran between the cracks, leading the Roman troops to literally pry the stones apart to get to the gold.  The destruction of the temple rocked Judaism to its core, to the extent that the temple was never again rebuilt.  It is true that the Jewish faith survived in synagogues across the Middle East, and even Europe.  But things were never the same.  Contrast this to the church, whose locus is not a geographical point on a map, or a sacred building.  Rather, the church finds its home in the person of Jesus Christ.  We always view buildings as being much longer lasting than individual people, however, when Jesus Christ defeated death, he provided for us a foundation for our faith that will last for eternity.  I preached this text on the 90^th anniversary of our church meeting at its current location in Glenmora.  We’ve spent those years in two different buildings, which have undergone renovations or additions.  We’ve even added a family activity center.  All of those buildings are great tools for ministry, but our celebration wasn’t about the church building, it was about the church.  It was to mark 90 years of the church assembling, of Christians assembling for worship, in one location.  Churches sometimes perish in fires, tornadoes, or hurricanes; sometimes they have to be torn down and replaced because of age or wear-and-tear, but so long as the church locates itself in the life of Jesus Christ, it has a home impervious to destruction. 

Secondly, the church will witness great calamities, and yet remains as a faithful witness to God’s mercy and grace.  Jesus words in this chapter are haunting and foreshadowing all at once:  “when they lead you away, handing you over.”  They are words that would have spoken to the experience of the first Christians to likely receive this gospel, the church in Rome.   Many of the calamities were man-made, a result of false messiahs and prophets:

“Anyone might make himself king as the head of a band of rebels who he fell in with, and then would press on to the destruction of the community, causing trouble to few Romans and then only to a small degree but bringing the greatest slaughter upon their own people.” – Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews

There would be wars, and rumors of wars.  Think again of the Christians in Rome, undergoing persecution and at the same time hearing rumors of the war in Judea, the birthplace of their faith.   Think of the struggle of churches to remain faithful in Nazi Germany, where speaking against the evils of the regime was fraught with danger.  Think of what some of our fellow Christians have witnessed, in wars fought around the globe. 

Some of the turmoil would be from “natural disasters”, earthquakes, famines, and the like.   Just a few years after this gospel was written, Pompeii was obliterated by Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD.  I think of what churches in New Orleans and the surrounding area experienced with Katrina just a few years ago, as a city of hundreds of thousands was ravaged by incomprehensible forces of nature.  Think of what Christians in Japan endured with the earthquake, tsunami, and resulting destruction.  Yet despite all these things, the church remains.  In fact, it is usually the church that is found working in the midst of it all, to show mercy and compassion, testifying to the love of God, when there is very little hope for people to cling to.  Jesus was often found in the midst of illness, suffering, and death, and so the church that finds its home in him must locate itself there as well.   

Finally, the church’s mission is to set its eyes firmly on Jesus Christ, rather than the events of this world.  Jesus attempts to get his disciples to focus less on the things that will happen, and more on the one who will bring them about, the Son of Man.  The future will be determined less by signs on the earth, and more by signs in heaven.   One time in New England, a solar eclipse led to an uproar at the state house, where some assemblymen even moved to adjourn.  One man rose and said, “Mr. Speaker, if it is not the end of the world and we adjourn, we shall appear to be fools.  If it is the end of the world, I should choose to be found doing my duty.  I move you, sir, that candles be brought.”  His example is a good one.  What do we want to be found doing when Christ returns, spectating or working?  Make no mistake about it, when Jesus returns we won’t have to sit around and read the tea leaves to figure out what’s going on.   C.S. Lewis once said that when the author himself comes on the stage, the play is over.   In other words, when Jesus returns, it will be unmistakable.  Perhaps instead of lamenting the things taking place in the world around us, we should spend our time looking to the Son of Man, who has the ability to govern events both on the earth and in heaven.  Only then will we have the proper perspective to love in the midst of calamity, and go to the places most in need of God’s love. 

Mark 12:35-44: Why I never liked P.D.A.

It’s fitting that before Jesus launches into a discussion of religion and worship, he makes a brief but significant comment on the object of our worship.  In an effort to pry open the minds and imaginations of His hearers, Jesus throws out a rhetorical question, basing its query in scripture.  “How can the scribes say that the Christ is the son of David?”  The scribes were looking for an heir to David, to reclaim David’s throne.  While understandable, this turns out to be misguided in that it fails to account for the scope and grandiosity of God’s plan.  Jesus quotes Psalm 110:1 where David refers to the Messiah as his “Lord”, and asks “why would David refer to his heir as his Lord?”  The only commentary we receive on the exchange in Mark’s gospel is that the people “heard him gladly.”  Of course, it was ultimately this message that would get Jesus killed, but people’s reception of the message doesn’t change the validity or truth of the claim itself.  God’s plan for our world is far grander than we can imagine, and our worship should reflect our appreciation for the grace and mercy that is the result of that plan, as well as our love for the God who would put such a costly plan into motion. 

When we understand Jesus’ point about the Messiah, in terms of who the Messiah would be, and also what he would accomplish, it should shape how we worship.  Such was not the case with the scribes he mentions in the next section.  What is their worship, their religion about?  It’s about places of honor; it’s about occupying center stage, so that they become the center of attention.  They crave markers of deference and pretense, markers that are condemned by Jesus.  Why?  Because religious leaders aren’t supposed to be above the community, they are supposed to be a part of the community.  They aren’t to be apart from the community, they are to be among the community.  The scribes Jesus’ referred to longed for prestige and respect, that could then be transformed into material support, hence Jesus’ comment about “devouring widow’s houses”.  Instead of serving those at the margins of society, the religious leaders were living off of them.  When Jesus speaks of their prayer life, it makes perfect sense why they would act this way.  We see that their prayers were aimed not at God, the rightful object of our devotion, but at the people around them.  They weren’t talking to God, so much as speaking to those around them.  Prayer had become a convenient way of manifesting self-centered religion.  We see from their example what religion isn’t about, but that doesn’t tell us who it is about.

We all know that the answer to the question “who is our religion about?” is God, but knowing the answer, and knowing how to reflect that answer in our lives is two different things.  To help us understand what it means to give ourselves over to God fully, Jesus tells a story about a poor widow and the offering she makes at the temple.  In those days, the temple had trumpet-shaped receptacles, in which people would deposit their offering.  Larger offerings of bronze coins would make more noise, and draw attention.  (It makes me kind of glad that most offerings in churches are now made with more stealthy paper currency or with checks).  When the rich came to pour in their large offerings, it probably sounded like someone hitting the jackpot in a casino.  I’m sure that in more than one instance, the approving looks of respect were more of a motivating factor than a desire to honor God when such large contributions were made.  The offering of the widow, unlike the offerings of the rich, probably made very little noise, if any.  No one’s attention was drawn by the clanging of those two small coins hitting the trumpet-shaped receptacle.  But something tells me that was ok with her.  I don’t think she walked up to drop in those coins, hoping that others would notice and talk about how wonderful she was.  I think she gave those two coins- and the fact that there were two means she could have kept one, and still given 50% of what she had, no paltry percentage- motivated by her love for her God.  She was giving out of her necessity, what she needed to live on, rather than out of her surplus, and Jesus uses that to illustrate the point that true contributions are measured not by quantity, but by how much of ourselves we give.

We can learn two things from the widow, and if we take those things to heart they will dramatically alter how we approach worship, and how we approach our faith.  First of all, our worship should be God-centered.  I fear that too many times we worship with one eye on God, and another on those around us.  Our worship becomes the religious version of over-the-top PDA that we’ve all witnessed and been disgusted by at some point or another.  Such overt “public displays of affection” are usually about grabbing attention, not displaying affection, and they usually come from a place of deep insecurity.  Does that mean we never worship in public?  Of course not!  It simply means that our affection for God, not getting attention from others, should be what drives our worship and our faith.  The other thing we can learn is that all of us have something to offer God.  Too often we feel like the widow, standing there looking at the meager coins in our hand thinking that they will never make a difference.  I’d argue that those two small coins might not have helped the temple make budget that month, but the devotion that they reflected was worth far more than any amount of money she could have poured into the offering box.  God isn’t looking for people who can give a lot of what they have; he’s looking for those who are willing to give all of who they are.    

Mark 12:28-34: Two for the price of one

In our fast-paced world prioritizing is often, well, a priority.  We can’t do a million things, or pay attention to every little detail, but if we can narrow down our lists of concerns to just a few, we might have a shot at actually being productive, and feeling like we’re getting somewhere.  As much as we’d like to believe that our generation is unique in thinking that way, it’s not.  While parents didn’t have to worry about PTA meetings and baseball practice in Jesus’ day, simply working to put food on the table and a roof over one’s head took up a far greater proportion of their time.  That might have been why a scribe spoke up to ask “what is the greatest commandment?” 

With 613 laws in the Torah, it was only natural for people to want to prioritize.  With that many laws, it was entirely possible for paralysis by analysis to set in, so that one’s time could be entirely consumed just in trying to follow, or at the very least refrain from breaking, the rules.  Others had been asked this question before, and had given pretty decent answers.  Hillel the Elder would respond to a similar question saying, “What you yourself hate, do not do to your neighbor: this is the whole Law, the rest is commentary.  Go and learn it.”  His instruction is sometimes referred to as the “silver rule”, for reasons you probably already know.  While Hillel’s answer is good, it isn’t the best answer given.  The perfect answer I’m referring to comes from the one at whom the question is directed in our current context, Jesus of Nazareth.  And in fact it comes in the form of not one, but two answers.  Jesus weaves together two passages from the Torah, Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18, to offer this divine synopsis of the Law:

“The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.  And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’  The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”  - Mark 12:29-31   

The piling up of “heart, soul, mind, and strength” shows that we are to love God with our entire being.  While it’s not mentioned here, in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus answers the follow-up question of “who is my neighbor?” by telling the story of the Good Samaritan, thus offering an illustration of the unbounded love that Jesus longs to see manifested in his creation. 

If you want to know what kind of impact Jesus’ teaching had on his first followers, consider the prominence of Jesus’ love commands in the church’s earliest teachings, given by the apostles themselves.  In his letter to the Romans Paul would write: 

“Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.  For the commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder, you shall not steal, you shall not covet,’ and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’  Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.” – Romans 13:8-10

To the Galatians he would state the same truth more succinctly:

“For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”   – Galatians 5:14

And this teaching wasn’t limited to the letters of Paul, as we see it propagated by James as well in his epistle:

“If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you are doing well.” – James 2:8

I can’t help but wonder if Jesus’ teachings about loving God and our neighbor still resonate the same way in the contemporary church?  It’s easy to love God, or so we think, because God is the one who redeemed us for all eternity.  But do we realize that if we implement our Lord’s instructions, that eternity can begin now?  I fear that the church has fallen asleep at the switch,  in many ways failing to realize that Jesus’ salvation is not just a future event, but that it can touch our lives even now if we care to listen to the words he speaks to us concerning how we ought to love others.  Did that scribe realize that he was receiving commentary from the very one who wrote the Law?  Probably not, but that didn’t stop him from seeing the wisdom and value of Jesus’ answer.  Considering that we know far more about Jesus than that scribe did, shouldn’t we value Jesus’ insight all the more?  

Mark 12:18-27: seeing the world through God's eyes

We all come to God conditioned to believe, or disbelieve certain things.  If we are honest with ourselves, usually we are coming to God not to grow or to be challenged, but to have our existing beliefs confirmed.  Before we are too harsh with the Sadducees concerning their failure to believe in the resurrection, perhaps we should examine ourselves and ask if we aren't also guilty of some degree of blindness when it comes to God's power to work in our world, even today.  This story brings us a word from God precisely because we find ourselves more often than not identifying more with the Sadducees than with Jesus. 

So, when we read that the Sadducees came to him, those Sadducees who do not believe that there is a resurrection, perhaps we should reserve our judgment.  Rather than shaking our heads at their disbelief, maybe this is a chance to ask what baggage we bring with us when we come before Jesus.  “That man came to Jesus, the one who thinks that others sins are worse than his own.”  “This woman came to the Lord, the one who refuses to believe that she can truly be forgiven.”  “A child came to Jesus, a child who cannot understand what it means to call God Father, because they’ve never had an earthly father love and care for them.”  We don’t just bring our ideas and our beliefs, we brings our experiences, our insecurities, our prejudices, and even our judgmental attitudes with us when we come to hear a word from the Lord.  They blind our eyes to the power of Jesus, and more often than not prevent us from being able to see the world through the lens of the gospel.  We cling to these beliefs and ideas, even constructing our faith around them, so that we spend most of our time trying to score intellectual points, rather than trying to transform our world.  The entire story made up by the Sadducees is concocted to try to disprove the resurrection.  They aren’t asking Jesus a question to find out the truth, the come thinking they know the truth, and are trying to force Jesus into agreeing with them

The Sadducees idea of resurrection was raising up an heir for a brother.  A man might not live on, but his name and reputation will live on through his children.  Jesus idea of resurrection is raising the dead themselves.  It sounds silly to us, as Christians we would never deny the resurrection.  And yet, as we profess God’s ability to raise the dead, at the same time we fail to believe that God can transform our lives, our communities, and even our world into the one he envisioned all along.  God does more, is doing more, than we could ever imagine.  Sadly, like the Sadducees, we fail to see it, or fail to believe it.   

Sounds pretty depressing doesn’t it?  It would be, except for the fact that even in our disbelief Jesus meets us where we are, and tries to build our faith.  The Sadducees only believed in the Pentateuch, the five books of Moses, so Jesus pulls a passage from there that demonstrates the power of the resurrection.   “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.” (Exodus 3:6)  There is a small grammatical detail that is often overlooked, one that Jesus is quick to point out.  God says I am, not I was.   God is not regulated to the pages of history, a forgotten deity worshipped by those long dead and gone.  If we open our eyes, we will see in the world around us a God still active, still working, still worshipped by those alive, as well as by those who are dead but who will live again. 

That’s why it is important that we come to Christ, willing to be formed according to God’s truth, not our preconception.  Why?  Because God’s plans for us are often bigger, grander, and far more marvelous than we could ever imagine.