Luke 21:5-19

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.” They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; 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.”Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name.This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.

I grew up in a family with an older sister and a younger brother, and I was particularly close to my little brother. He is soon to be graduating with his MBBS, and starting his internship as a doctor next year in Canberra – but nothing will stop me from continuing to see him as a 5 year old chubby boy with matchbox cars and a penchant for building things. When he was little, nothing was more fun for him than a box of blocks and a space on the floor. He never really needed to play with anyone else, as though that empty space was beckoning him, waiting for his next castle to be constructed. Every day, he would build quite systematically, using the large blocks first, setting up foundations, and building up from there. Maybe an hour later, an architectural masterpiece stood in his room waiting for his family members to admire. We’d all coo at his architectural prowess, particularly my very proud father, who believed his son would follow in his own architectural footsteps.

Then, suddenly, without any real provocation, the whole thing would tumble down, and my poor brother would be devastated. His work was ruined! And still, the next day, he would try again.

The buildings never stood for long. Ultimately, not one block was left upon another. Some way or another, all would topple down. The same thing happened when my brother built sandcastles in the sandpit at school. They would stay for a while, but rain or carelessness would ultimately ruin them.

This morning, we heard the verses from Jesus in Luke about the end times, and the beautiful verses from Isaiah about God creating a new heavens and a new earth. We in the Church like to talk about things being made new. After we pray our Prayer of Confession, almost always the assurance of pardon talks about being made new. Perhaps we think that by talking about it enough, maybe we’ll actually believe it. We love verses from the Bible like “Sing to the Lord a new song!” or “See, I make all things new.” The phrases conjure up images of freshness and vitality.

But friends, oh my, how we delude ourselves! Let’s be honest: in the Church, we generally do not like new things. In fact, it’s the new things that are so often the battlegrounds for church politics!

It’s often easier when the Church sticks to replacing only those things that need replacing. A new banner, or new blinds, or a new liturgist, or heck, a new minister! BUT a new altar table? A new way of worshipping? Sing to the Lord a new song? No thank you, the old songs suit us just fine, thank you very much. The old towers suit us just fine, too.

The concept of all things being made new is one of the most unsettling and controversial themes in the Church. Whether we are progressive or conservative, rural or suburban or urban, a large church or an old church – every one of us has a special image of what church and religion mean to us. And we do not want that to change. That image is what we inwardly long for when we come to church Sunday after Sunday. The image may be a photograph of the church in the past. But it is that image, more often than not, which can prevent us from experiencing God anew.

An old theology lecturer of mine put it best, when he asked: “do you know what prevents you from experiencing God the most? The biggest obstacle in the way of your experiencing God is whatever your last experience of God was.” He was saying that your last experience, whatever and wherever and whenever it was, was so wonderful and refreshing and renewing, that you inevitably believe that every future experience has to be exactly like that. And it won’t be.

New heavens and a new earth don’t seem so attractive when we sit and admire the large stones of the temples we build right around us. I’m not just talking about the temple of West Epping; all of us have some sort of temple that we admire. It might be this literal church. It might be Hillsong. It might be those castles my brother made as a child. It might be a special place we escape to for refuge and respite. Or it might be our own job or company or family that we have built up to be proud of.

But every single one of those temples is one day made new, and we usually don’t like to see them fall. My brother learned the same way most children do, that all things are made new. He learned the hard way. He had to lose something he loved, and that loss helped him start to pay attention to the world around him. Many of you who have experienced loss have learned this too. Loss often serves the purpose of making us pay attention, observe, and notice truths, sometimes for the first time. Indeed, take a look around, and one will see that all things are being made new all the time, if we are watching.

Going back to the Gospel text, this is how Jesus reacted when his disciples were admiring the grandeur of the great temple in first-century Jerusalem. Apparently, it was, indeed, a tremendous structure, and a suitable symbol of God’s greatness and glory.

But Jesus knew it would one day fall. He could not say for sure when it would be; but he knew it would be a cataclysmic, awful event. It would seem like the end of the world itself. It would seem like everything his people had ever worked for would be gone.

However, Jesus also knew that the temple’s destruction would not mean the end of God’s creation; it would not mean the end of salvation. So he urged people to bear their suffering with hope and patience. His lesson was that all of us suffer, and all of us go through destruction and tearing down. All of us even go through death, but that is not the end. He died himself, but it was not the end. He was resurrected, and God’s creative power began anew.

I think that the lesson my little brother learnt as his boyhood castles kept falling, is that his great joy was actually in the building, in the layout and construction, in the realization of a completed, beautiful project. The real joy was in seeing an empty space on the floor and setting about the construction of something good. The fun of creation is creation. It is in the creating, not just in the admiring.

We gather this morning in a pretty beautiful structure – multi-purpose, airy, aesthetically pleasing. And we gather in other beautiful structures – families, projects, masterpieces. Look how beautiful they are!

But these structures–of whatever sort–are not the ultimate focus of our lives, just as churches should not ultimately be the focus in our Christian worship. Jesus was clear, later in his ministry, that when the temple was destroyed, he would build it up in three days. That statement was a puzzle to his disciples until they realized he was talking about the temple of himself, his body, his very identity.

In this same way, when we as part of the Christian Church gathers and takes communion, we touch something greater than the building or structure. That which is greater is Jesus Christ himself. The Church believes that God is actually building a temple greater than our churches and cathedrals. God is actually growing the Body of Christ. And when we ask, “Where is Jesus Christ today?” our answer becomes, “The body of Jesus Christ is actually us! The Body of Christ is really the church, us, the community of believers and worshipers and evangelists and servers!”

It is the same with the other masterpieces of our lives – jobs, families, projects. The critical elements of those temples are not the literal stones, but the living stones of relationship. The people and the relationships are the critical elements. We are the Body of Christ. So the fun part of church is not sitting around admiring how pretty it looks or how good we feel or how nice it sounds. The fun part of church is in building up the body of Christ.

I am sure God enjoys our physical cathedrals and temples and projects of whatever sort. But I believe God loves to build up people and relationships–the body of Christ. God loves our learning and our serving, our hugging and crying and laughing. With all the good that we do in life, God is creating and re-creating with us. God is building us into a living temple, the Body of Christ. The literal stones will all be toppled down, in some way or another, at some time or another. The spiritual stones will endure.

When will the literal stones be toppled down? Jesus mentions a few signs to look out for: signs in the sun, moon and stars; wars and insurrections; earthquakes; the economy; Trump… and all that.

But we’ve all seen most of these things; in fact, most of those signs are happening now. Does that mean the apocalypse is imminent? Who knows, but perhaps the signs we’re seeing signal the end of a particular stage of our world, as we enter a new stage.

Again, let’s not kid ourselves: sometimes, changes hurt. But changes are signs that the kingdom of God is very, very near. When you encounter the deep anxiety of any change in your life, be assured that you are not far from God in that experience. You are, instead, very, very near.

This is why the Church provides sacraments – to help us go through the inevitable changes we go through in life: birth, illness, marriage, death. In direct association with these changes, the Church provides baptism, anointing, the sacrament of marriage, Communion, and a funeral. The Church pronounces blessing and grace during these moments of either painful or joyous change. At it’s best, the Church should teach it’s people how to change gracefully and in the strength of God. So perhaps, even changes within our own church can be occasions for our learning grace.

Friends, all will be toppled down. And sometimes we can see signs of impending collapse all too quickly. But hear the good news: this is not the end. God will be in the change and re-creation. God will provide grace in the change. And all things will be made new. This means, friends that we don’t have to wait for the end times. There can be new life every single day. And there can be judgement every single day. God calls both new life and judgement the same thing: a new opportunity to know God’s abundant love. If there is ending every day, there is also new life every day. If things are being toppled down, there are also things ready to be built and rebuilt. In short: today is a new opportunity to love. Amen.