33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, C November 13, 2022
Fr. Alexander Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
Not long after I was assigned to this parish, I went on a short vacation that kept me away during a weekend, so I made arrangements for another priest to cover for me. While away, my phone rang at about 3pm on the Saturday. I looked to see that it was the priest who was scheduled to hear confessions and celebrate the 4pm Mass. My heart sank. I just knew he was calling to say he forgot or was sick or wouldn’t be able to cover the Mass. So, I answered it braced for the worst. “Dude, your church is gorgeous! Who knew it could be hidden away in a little town like this! You’re lucky.” Relieved, I joined in with his excitement and expressed gratitude at what had been given to me. I shared with him, as I have with many of you, that the Bishop often refers to it as the prettiest church in the diocese.
Since then, I’ve often heard visitors at weddings or funerals remark on its beauty. I always agree with this assessment and express gratitude for being pastor here and being able to celebrate the sacraments in such a worthy building. What I don’t often do is what Jesus does right here. His disciples – many of them from small country villages – are exclaiming at the beauty of the Jerusalem temple, a building who’s size and beauty vastly exceeds anything they’ve seen in their lives. Jesus walks up to them and, without even the slightest hesitation, prophesies that the whole thing will be utterly destroyed. Talk about killing the mood!
But he was right, of course. The temple is a ruin and the Dome of the Rock stands where it once did. Jews to this day travel to the wailing wall to mourn its loss. I was blessed to visit the site as a deacon and pray at the wall. Even as a lifelong Catholic 2000 years after the fact, I could sense some of the immense loss felt by the descendants of God’s chosen people. I can only imagine what it would be like for those who still hold to the old covenant. I felt a similar sensation when Notre Dame in Paris was burning. To those alive at the time of the temple’s destruction, it must have felt like the end of the world.
Well, that’s because it was. The Jerusalem Temple was designed to evoke the world: a large basin of water to symbolize the sea, floral and plant motifs to symbolize the earth, and the veil of the sanctuary embroidered with stars symbolized the cosmos. It was the house of God, the site of God’s promise, his covenant to dwell with his people. Ancient rabbis would say the temple sacrifices are what kept the world going.
Jesus knew all of this when he prophesied as he did and he meant what he said. Because the world as the ancients knew it did end. No longer does God need to dwell in a temple: he was dwelling there in the person of Jesus Christ, true God and true Man. Jesus is the new temple and his Holy Spirit makes each of us temples. We, like the ancient Israelites, build our wonderous temples, but for a different reason. It is not the building where God dwells, but in the Eucharist made present in the Mass. The Eucharist reserved in the tabernacle. God dwells just as much in the dusty pyx carried by a missionary priest on a dirt bike up a mountain path as he does in the 300 pound brass tabernacle on our altar.
Our wonderous temple is here primarily to call attention to Jesus, the God-Man. Even as I strive to raise money to maintain and beautify this Church through an upgrade to the lighting and electrical work, I must agree that a day will come when it will all be torn down, not one brick upon another left standing. So why build? Because the world will end. Because we are already in the end times. Because “by [our] perseverance [we] will secure [our] lives.”
Jesus does not condemn the fact that so much time and money was spent on the Jerusalem Temple. His Father commanded it to be built by the ancient Israelites – twice in fact. He uses this stark prophecy not to reject the temple, but to point to its ultimate objective: God’s presence on earth. Rightly recognizing that its destruction is an event of apocalyptic proportions, Jesus’ disciples ask for signs to be prepared. His answer ought to stir something deep within us.
On one level, it’s fairly vague and typical: wars, famine, strife – these always happen in human history and they are the kind of things that often lead to the destruction of buildings. On another level, it is quite supernatural. The signs in the sky that Jesus speaks of actually happened. There are records of bizarre visions and noises in the sky above Jerusalem just before it was destroyed by the romans.
In addition to what he’s already said, Jesus promises persecution and rejection by the world. He also explains why that persecution is a good thing. “It will lead to your giving testimony” to kings, governors, and everyone else. Now, think logically about what that means. If the goal of all this tribulation is the proclamation of the Gospel, what does Jesus want? What is the purpose?
Conversion. People accepting Christ and seeking holiness. People worshipping him. What kind of things do converted people, holy people, worshipping people do? What kinds of things do they build? Sacraments and places to celebrate those sacraments. The point of the destruction of the temple and the end of the world is to lead to the renewal of the world, its conversion, its reestablishment as God’s dwelling place.
Like a Venn diagram, we live in the area between the old world and the new. We live in the end times – we have since Jesus rose from the dead. We are simultaneously expecting what we build to be destroyed by the old world and looking for the chance to build the new world. As we strain to build and maintain beautiful buildings that will eventually turn to dust, so we ought all the more strive to build up a kingdom of peace and justice and love that the world will persecute. So why build? Because that’s what perseverance means. God doesn’t ask us to succeed to in making heaven on earth, he rather tells us that, in the darkest hour, heaven itself will break in and destroy evil forever. The question is this: when it comes, will we be a part of that evil or will we be among its victims who rejoice on that day? Because that’s the only choice. And how do you stay on the right side, the side who suffers from evil rather than causing it? Build even though it will be destroyed. Preach even though you will be hated. Love even though you will be rejected and “by your perseverance you will secure your lives.”