Tuesday, November 18, 2025

What Lies Ahead

Luke 21:5-19

November 16, 2025 

            I’ve been incredibly fortunate in my few international travels to witness some of the great architectural wonders of the world. I’ve seen the Sphinx and the Pyramids of Giza, the Grand Mosque in Cairo, Poseidon’s temple, and the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. I’ve peered down at King Tut’s tomb. I’ve stood at the Parthenon in Athens, and I have walked in neighborhoods that are older than our country. 

            One of the things that I’ve learned about many of these ancient wonders is that what we see as bleached rock and stone would have boasted tremendous color and ornate designs in their heyday. Time and weather and pollution all take their toll on monuments like the Parthenon. Columns and arches would have displayed vivid colors and walls would have conveyed rich artistic scenes. If it is astounding to witness these ancient sites now, in our time, how much more dazzling would they have been to witness in the years when they were first built.

            Debie Thomas writes that according to ancient historian Josephus, the temple in Jerusalem would have been an incredible sight to see. It was built by Herod the Great, and its retaining walls were said to have been built by stones that were 40 feet long. And written testaments about the temple at that time report that Herod used so much gold to gild the outside of the sacred structure that if someone looked at in bright sunlight, they ran the risk of blinding themselves. This temple in Jerusalem was an architectural, engineering, and religious feat.

            I can understand, then, why the disciples and other folks with Jesus, were gazing at it in wonder. I can understand why they were admiring its great stones and its elaborate facade. As Thomas also writes, when they were looking at the temple, they were not just appreciating its beauty. They were also looking at what for them was the epicenter of their world. The temple represented not only their faith, but the entirety of their lives and the long history and sacred tradition their lives were built upon. Their lives began with dedication in the temple. They would have grown up traveling to the temple for religious holidays and festivals. Looking at the temple, they saw the past, the present, and the future. They saw tradition and they saw glory and they saw permanence and, most importantly, they saw a manifestation of God.

            But what did Jesus see? He saw ruins. He saw destruction and devastation. It is necessary to remember that when Luke wrote his gospel, when Luke wrote about Jesus offering this prophecy, the Temple had already been destroyed. Everything that Jesus speaks of had already come to pass. Every stone had been torn down. Not one stone remained on top of stone, which would have been unimaginable to the people there with Jesus. What they believed to be indestructible, imperishable, and sacrosanct proved otherwise.

            This passage fits the category of apocalyptic. Jesus offers a vision, a prophecy of destruction and change that is to come and a vision of the end times – apocalyptic. If you’re like me, when I think of the word apocalypse I think of the Hollywood version. I think of movies that depict everything, the entire world, falling apart. In those versions of apocalypse, the world crumbles into complete and utter chaos. In some versions, humanity transforms from the living to the living dead. Zombies walk the earth seeking to make a zombie of anyone who is still fully human. I think of nightmarish scenarios, and everything that we know coming to an end.

But that’s Hollywood. In biblical terms, apocalypse does not mean what we think it means in our culture. Apocalypse is better translated as unveiling. An apocalypse reveals something – a truth, an understanding, the real nature of something or someone. So to experience an apocalypse is to experience revelation. As Thomas puts it, to experience an apocalypse is to see clearly, to see what has been hidden.

This is good and important to know, but I suspect that the disciples and the other people listening to Jesus were not making that distinction as Jesus spoke. Instead, I imagine the people listening to him must have been terrified and shocked by his words. If the temple, this grand and glorious testament to God was going to someday be nothing but stone upon stone, then they wanted to know when it was going to happen. They wanted to know what lay ahead. They wanted specifics. They wanted time and date. And if that wasn’t possible, then they wanted Jesus to tell them the signs to watch for. Please Jesus, at least give us a clue.

Jesus never gives them the answer they’re looking for. He mentions what seem to be signs: wars, natural disasters, false prophets. But he refuses to give them a countdown. There is no timetable or calendar they can turn to. He just tells them,

“Beware that you are not lead astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them.”

            Then Jesus tells those who follow him that they will be persecuted for doing just that. Because they follow him, they will be brought before royalty and heads of state. When that happens that will be their chance to testify, to witness to God’s creative and redemptive work through the Son. Jesus tells them,

“So, make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you the words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.” 

If I were one of the ones gathered around Jesus, listening to this, I would have wanted many, many more details. So, let me get this straight, Jesus. The temple, this amazing edifice that houses God and all God’s glory will be torn down. False prophets will come, and natural disasters and wars will continue to happen. And we’ll be persecuted for following you. And not only will we be persecuted, but we’ll be offered chances to testify to you and to your kingdom, but we should not prepare our words ahead of time because when that time does come we will be given the words and the wisdom that we need in that moment. So, in that moment we will know what to say, but not before. Don’t worry about coming up with well-turned phrases, just go with what you understand and know in that moment. For a manuscript person like me, that does not bode well. And finally, what you’re telling us Jesus is that we need plenty of endurance. Is that what you’re saying, Jesus? That we need to endure? This is like the worst recruitment strategy ever.

Jesus is not only telling the disciples and anyone else who would follow him that he is not giving them specific signs to watch for or dates and times when all these events will take place, he is also telling them not to worry about all that he has just told them. Don’t worry, just endure.

But where does our endurance come from? Whatever storehouses of strength we carry within us, to endure what Jesus is proclaiming takes more than what we can do ourselves. Our faithful endurance is built on trust in God and on our hope that the future is in God’s good hands. Believe it or not, this passage with its apocalyptic message is really about hope – hope in God, hope in the kingdom of God Jesus has been proclaiming. It is not a worldly hope or an overt hope. It is hope not in things seen but unseen. The temple, on which I suspect many placed their hope, would be torn down. Something that they considered permanent and indestructible would be destroyed. But God is not contained in the temple or in any building or structure. God will not be put in a box, even in the most beautiful box one could imagine. The apocalypse that Jesus is referring to is not destruction for destruction’s sake. It is the unveiling, the revealing, of God and God’s kingdom, of the world as it was created to be. This may all sound terrifying, but in truth we are given overwhelming reason to hope.

When I first began to read this passage along with our verses from the prophet Isaiah, I started to think that we were reading them out of order. The Luke passage should have been read first, with the Isaiah passage following. I say that because I think that the Isaiah passage offers us a glimpse of what the apocalyptic unveiling in Luke points to. It offers us a glimpse of the world as God created it to be. It is the new thing God is doing. If our eyes are opened through apocalyptic unveiling, we may be able to perceive it. It is the world toward which we endure. It is the world that we hope for. It is the world that we are working and struggling and praying and pleading to come into its fullness.

And what is this world? Is it one where we find fortune and fame? Or is it one where we lead long lives, full lives, abundant lives – abundant not with stuff but with love and righteousness and justice and gladness and loveliness and joy. It is the world where even the creatures of nature are no longer predator or prey but comfortable companions. It is the world where we are so aligned with God’s purposes that we understand the mind of God as much as God understands us, and we recognize, finally, the life abundant that Jesus promises in John’s gospel. This is the world we hope for. This is the world we endure for.

It is a world where babies are not born only to die, where living less than a century is considered abnormal, where we all enjoy the fruits of our labor, where children are not born to suffer terror but grow up in love and light. It is a world where wolves and lambs eat together, and where the idea of predator and prey no longer makes sense.

This is the good news. This is what we hope for and this is where our endurance will take us. But none of this is easy. Sometimes everything we know must crumble for something new to be built. Sometimes are we misled by others and must find our way back to God. Sometimes it seems that the whole world is falling down, and we cannot yet see how it is being made new. But it is. It is, and so we trust and so we hope and so we endure because God is faithful, because God is creating, because God is making all things news. Thanks be to God.

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

Amen.

 

 

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Tuesday, November 11, 2025

God of the Living

Luke 20:27-38

November 9, 2025

 

            For most of my adult life I referred to my parents’ marriage as “The Bill and Jeri Show.” I didn’t say this out of disrespect but because my mom and dad were just funny to watch together.. To be fair, they were not trying to be funny. They weren’t telling jokes or putting on humorous sketches, but they’re responses to one another’s foibles and quirks just made me laugh, smile, and shake my head.

            My dad would get frustrated trying to do something and he would fuss, and sigh, and say something like, “Oh blast this darn thing!” and my mom would say, “Oh Bill.” If you were to ask my kids to repeat something that their gramma said to their grampa, they would say, “Oh Bill.”

            But it was my mom who most often stole the show. She was a very funny person in general; she was the grand dame of silly in our family. Everything I learned about being silly, I learned from her. But she also said things without meaning to be funny, and those were some of the funniest things she ever said. Two of these statements will forever live in our family lore.

            Once, when my dad had a meeting to go to, he got up, got dressed for his meeting – which meant a dress shirt and nice slacks -- then came out to drink his coffee and eat breakfast. And then he spilled on his shirt. And my mom, exasperated that he got his good clothes dirty, said,

“Oh Bill, why don’t you put your clothes on before you get dressed.”

            What? I think we all realized that what she was trying to say which was put on your everyday clothes to eat breakfast in, then change for your meeting, but that’s not what she said.

            Another Jeri classic happened when my mom was doing something in the kitchen and she didn’t hear my dad walk up behind her. When he said something he scared her without meaning to and she startled and jumped and said,

            “Oh Bill, why don’t you say something before you speak.”

            After she said things like this, my dad would tell my sister and brother and me about it, exclaiming you’re not going to believe what your mother said this time. And I would laugh and think, there’s another episode of the Bill and Jeri show for the books.

            But whatever quirks their long marriage revealed or created, in their last years my parents fell asleep holding hands every night. They did this for the obvious reason, they loved each other even when they drove each other a little nuts. But I also believe they did this because if one of them were to die during the night, they would be holding hands and not making that transition alone.

            When my mom died, our first thought was, “Well, at least she’s with dad again.” I still think that, and it gives me a great deal of comfort believing that they are with each other in the life eternal as much as they were in this life. That is my great hope.

            It is because of my hope that I find Jesus’ response to the Sadducees in today’s passage from Luke’s gospel unsettling and disconcerting story to say the least. But if it is disconcerting, then that must mean we need to work at understanding it.

            The story begins with a confrontation between Jesus and the powers that be. But this is the one time that the confronters are the Sadducees not the Pharisees. According to the text, the Sadducees come to Jesus with the firm belief that there is no resurrection. Yet their question for Jesus centered around this very topic. They questioned Jesus about resurrection, even though they did not believe in it. Clearly, this is another instance where authorities are trying to trap Jesus and put him on the spot. It was another reason to discount him and his claims about God and the kingdom. As was so often the case, they sought to make Jesus look foolish.

            The Sadducees were a faction in Jewish society. They descended from the priestly class and believed solely in the Pentateuch – the first five books of what we call the Old Testament – Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. If resurrection did not appear in these five books, then resurrection was not real.

            Unlike the Sadducees, the Pharisees did believe in the resurrection after death. They had been debating and arguing with the Sadducees about the resurrection or the lack thereof for a long, long time. I suspect that the Sadducees brought up resurrection, not only to try and trap Jesus but to provoke the Pharisees once again.

            The question the Sadducees ask Jesus was based on a law found in Deuteronomy about the perpetuation of family line. It is known as the levirate law – if a man dies and leaves his wife childless, then it is the husband’s brother’s obligation and duty to marry the widow. That way they can have children and the family name, which always came through the husband, would continue. The first husband will not be forgotten in Israel, because through his brother, he fathered children. This is not a law that I find reasonable or agree with, but that perpetuation of the family lineage, of the family name, was an essential part of that culture.

            So the Sadducees are referring to this law when they pose this question to Jesus. But they use an example that pushes the law to the level of ridiculousness. Seven brothers marry the same woman. The brothers are fulfilling their duty to the law and to the first brother. But all of them die without fathering children. Then the woman dies. Here is the sticking point. In this so-called resurrection of which you speak, Jesus, to whom will this woman, the wife of seven brothers, be married?

            We know that this is not the first time Jesus has been baited. In Luke’s gospel, this is the third and final question asked of Jesus that ultimately sets the wheels in motion to put him to death. But with each example of baiting, Jesus models how to answer the true intent of the question without giving way to frustration and anger over the questioner’s methods or reasons for asking.

            Which means that Jesus knows they are trying to set him up, but he does not take the bait. He does not evade the question or dismiss it for being ridiculous. He says,

            “Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage.”

            It’s apples to oranges, Jesus tells them. In this age, in this life, on this earth, marriage is a part of life. At that time, marriage was an absolute necessity, not only for continuing the family name and for remembrance of that name in Israel, but also for the protection of the woman. A woman or a child alone, a widow and an orphan, were among the most vulnerable. But in the age to come, marriage will not be a part of that life. Therefore, their question about which brother is the true husband of the woman will not be an issue. It will not matter in the age to come.

            With their question, the Sadducees imply that if resurrection is real than it is merely a continuation of life as usual. We live this life, we die, then we are resurrected to more of the same. One commentator said that their question really means that they saw resurrection as “an eternity of more of the same.” But Jesus discounts that understanding. This age, this reality that we live in now is nothing like the age to come. There won’t be marriage. More importantly there won’t be death. The people of that age will be like the angels. They will be children of God. Death will no longer be a consequence of living.

            Death will no longer be a consequence of living.

            But Jesus does not stop there. He turns the law of Moses back on the Sadducees. You can look to Moses for proof of the resurrection. You can look to the very Pentateuch that you hold onto so tightly. Moses himself said that God was the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. We know that these three patriarchs died long ago, but God is the God of the living. These patriarchs live on through God, the God of the living.

            Jesus answered their question by pointing out the error in their thinking about the resurrection. He answered it by appealing to the very scripture they thought proved the resurrection false, which is great but where does that leave us?

            Where does that leave us when we wonder about who will be waiting for us when we cross from this life to the next? Will husbands be waiting for their wives and wives waiting for their husbands? When my mom was dying, she saw people in the room we could not see. Were those people loved ones gathered there to help her with her journey? I think so. And I want to believe that I will one day be reunited with the people I have loved and lost, with the saints of my life, on whose shoulders of faith I stand. Will someone be waiting for me as the gospel song says, when I cross to that far side bank of Jordan?  

            It seems to me that Jesus does not deny this about the resurrection, but he also will not make resurrection sound like an eternity of more of the same either. What I do think Jesus makes profoundly and pointedly clear is that resurrected life will not just be a continuation of what we have now. It will be fundamentally different. It will be fundamentally better.

            But does fundamentally better mean no relationship? It is hard from this passage alone to know how to answer that. But here’s the thing, what do we know about Jesus? What do we know about God the Father through the Son?

            We know that God cared and cares about relationship. God has been trying to get us back into right relationship with God since Adam and Eve heard from a talking snake in the garden.  

            Jesus came to restore our right relationship with God and with one another. No, none of our earthly relationships are perfect. They are all flawed because we are all flawed. But we believe that our God is a God of love and justice and mercy. God cares about souls, but Jesus came because God also cares about our bodies, our lives here and now. Jesus said that the kingdom was not some far off place, but right here in our midst. So I think, no I believe, that the love we have here, the relationships we have here, will be with us in the kingdom. They will be perfected and better and changed, but that love will be there. It won’t be gone. It will be complete. God is the God of the living, the living now and the living eternal. In that we place our hope, our trust, our relationship, our future, our past, and our present. God is the God of the living. Thanks be to God.

            Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

            Amen.

Thursday, November 6, 2025

Salvation Has Come -- All Saint's Day

Luke 19:1-10

November 2, 2025

 

            The story of Zacchaeus is a story that appeals to children. I remember hearing about Zacchaeus when I was a little girl in Sunday school. I think we even sang a song about him.

            “Zacchaeus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he ….”

            I can understand why this story appeals to children. Children understand what it means to be small in a world that is bigger than you. Children understand what it means to want to see what everyone else is seeing but you can’t because the crowd is too tall and big and you are too small and short. As a child, I could relate to having to stand on my tiptoes or peering around others or even pushing my way through the crowd to the front just to get a glimpse of what everyone else can easily see and witness. As an adult who does not fit into the tall category, I can still relate with Zacchaeus.

            From what I have read, I suspect that Zacchaeus must have been quite small of stature. The average size man in Jesus time is believed to have been no more than 5’5” or maybe 5”6”, which is not extraordinarily tall. A diet that was based more on grains than protein, and remittent periods of hunger and deprivation may have contributed to an entire population being on the smaller side. So, if Zacchaeus was short by those standards, it would seem that he was a little guy indeed.

            But his stature had not stopped Zacchaeus from making money. He is described as the chief tax collector and rich. But what do we already know about tax collectors? They were traitors to their own people, enemies of their fellow countryfolks. As tax collectors, they were part of a legalized pyramid scheme that took more from the people than required, gave more to Rome than was necessary, and skimmed off quite a bit to line their own pockets. And as chief tax collector, Zacchaeus was situated near the top of that pyramid – one vantage point that allowed him to see quite clearly well despite his smaller size.

            Those are the facts that we know about Zacchaeus, at least the facts that Luke chose to include. But what we don’t know about Zacchaeus must also be a lot. Because something in Zacchaeus made him desperate to see Jesus. Maybe it was fear of missing out on what all the other folks of Jericho were witnessing. Maybe Zacchaeus had heard the multitude of rumors about Jesus, and he wanted to see if any were based in truth. Maybe he knew that all was not well with his soul, and he longed for someone to fix him. Whatever his motivation, Zacchaeus was desperate and determined to see Jesus.

            I use the word “desperate” because what Zacchaeus does would have been seen as desperate by anyone else in his community. He runs ahead of the crowd, which would have been a completely undignified thing for a man of his wealth and position to do. But he does it anyway. He runs ahead and he climbs a Sycamore tree – also completely undignified – and climbs as high as he can into the branches of that tree just so he can see this Jesus guy who is making his way into the city.

            But I doubt that Zacchaeus or anyone else could have predicted what happened next. When Jesus came to the tree Zacchaeus climbed, he looked up and called to the rich, small, desperate man.

            “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.”

            Jesus betrayed no surprise at finding someone in a tree watching him. He clearly knew who Zacchaeus was because Jesus called to him by name. Jesus didn’t seem bothered at all that a man as rich as Zacchaeus, who should have acted with more dignity and gravity, had climbed a tree to see him. Jesus just looked up at Zacchaeus and said, “Zacchaeus, you need to hurry and come down from that tree. I’m staying with you today. We have a meal to eat and God’s work to do.”

            I suspect that Zacchaeus was just as shocked as everyone else. He must have shinnied down that tree quicker than he climbed up, eager to welcome Jesus to his home, to his table. But if the shock of Jesus’ recognition made Zacchaeus happy and enthusiastic to welcome Jesus, the shock for the other folks witnessing this encounter had different results. The people around them began to grumble and mutter and whisper; and these were those loud kinds of whispers that you really want to be heard even when you’re trying to act like you want the opposite.

            “What is happening here?! What is Jesus doing?! He is going to the home of a sinner! He is going to sit at table with a sinner! And not just any sinner, but that Zacchaeus sinner! This is outrageous and unseemly, and it’s just not done.”

            Maybe those whispers influenced Zacchaeus in that moment. Or maybe it was because Jesus didn’t hesitate to associate with him. Or perhaps Zacchaeus, looking into the knowing eyes of Jesus, saw his whole life reflected there and was ashamed of what he saw. Whatever it was, something in Zacchaeus changed in that moment. Something in him shifted. He looked at Jesus and made a vow, a covenant,

            “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.”

            Standing there, looking at Jesus, surrounded by people who hated him, people he had betrayed and harmed and exploited, Zacchaeus repented. In Greek the word for repent is metanoia, and it means to turn around. Zacchaeus turned around. Zacchaeus turned back to his people. Zacchaeus turned back to Jesus. Zacchaeus turned back to God.

            Jesus pronounced him saved.

            “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

            Salvation has come. At first glance, it seems as though salvation came because Zacchaeus promised to do good from that point on. He would give to the poor. He would repair and repay the past. It seems that when Zacchaeus saw Jesus, he knew he would need to be better, to do better, if he wanted salvation. But I don’t thank that Zacchaeus brought about salvation because of what he promised Jesus. That would be effecting his own salvation, and I struggle with that concept.

            I think salvation came not because Zacchaeus saw Jesus, but because Jesus saw Zacchaeus. Jesus saw him. Jesus saw Zacchaeus looking more than a little ridiculous up in that tree. Jesus saw Zacchaeus and the way he lived his life and made his fortune. Jesus saw Zacchaeus and all his past mistakes and missteps and sins. But Jesus also saw Zacchaeus and who he could be, who he was created to be. Jesus saw in him one who was lost and one who was a son of Abraham. Jesus saw this sinner, yes, but even more he saw this child of God.

            Today in our worship we observe, we celebrate, All Saints’ Day. What is a saint really? Is a saint someone who has been officially canonized by the Roman Catholic or Orthodox Church? Is a saint someone who is the source of miracles? Is a saint someone who has achieved perfection in this life or the next? Or is a saint someone who was faithful, not perfect, not faultless, but faithful? Is a saint someone in our lives who taught us about what it means to be faithful, who saw in us what we could be?

            A saint as we understand it, is not someone who was perfect but someone who was faithful. Zacchaeus was far from perfect. He was a sinner, not just because the people called him that, but because he fit the definition. But he was also a son of Abraham, a child of God, and Jesus saw that in him. Jesus saw beyond his sin to his soul. He saw in him, as Frederick Buechner described, the peculiar treasure of this flawed man. And because Jesus saw him salvation came. And Zacchaeus, this flawed, wee little man, was willing to be vulnerable, to be exposed. He wanted to see Jesus desperately and maybe he was equally desperate to be seen. He was not perfect, but in that moment, he became faithful. He became a saint because Jesus saw in him who he was created to be.

            So, let us give thanks for the saints in our lives, for the people who are saints not just because they have gone to their reward, and joined that great cloud of witnesses, but because they were faithful in small ways and large. Let us give thanks for the saints in our lives because they saw in us the people God created us to be. Let us give special thanks that God sees us, that God sees all of us, that God sees beyond our sins and our mistakes and sees instead the people we were created to be, the people we are trying daily to become. And may we respond to being seen as faithfully as Zacchaeus, giving generously, making amends for the past, and moving forward into the future with hope because we are seen and we are loved in spite of ourselves, rejoicing that through Jesus salvation has come. Thanks be to God.

            Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!”

            Amen.