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.

Sermon Text

There are moments in our life when we lose all orientation. The inevitable moment in which there is something that should be and is not. The loss of loved ones, those bright flames we knew that kept us warm and showed the way. The loss of health, the end of peace and the beginning of worry. Great catastrophes, the destruction of a nation’s concept of safety, the continual attack on innocents in schools across the country. There are pillars that hold up the world as we know it, and when those pillars disappear we have to make a choice – will we give in to despair or pursue a new future, stay in a place of disorientation or chase after a new understanding of the world we live in.

We have previously looked together at the exile of God’s people. The build-up of injustice between neighbors and in systems of the ruling class allowed for a great deal of evil to be perpetrated in Judah. The exile to Babylon left them with the choice to be vengeful – asking God to do the unspeakable to their enemies – or else left them mourning the loss of their security. Yet, from these two obvious choices, a third one sprouted up, the impossible hope of a return from exile, the impossible hope of redemption for God’s people. Those who held onto the idea that God was not done with Judah, not done with any of the Children of Israel, and that somewhere down the line they would return home, and they would find orientation once again.

The people were able to return to Judah, and under the imperial edict of Cyrus the Great, they were permitted to rebuild the Temple. Cyrus was not some great benefactor who saw the light in the case of Judah, but a shrewd tyrant. In giving displaced peoples funds enough to rebuild their temples, and through placing strategic officers in high positions, he made sure his new subjects would not be interested in rebellion.

The tactic worked, and Judah was so impressed that he became the first foreign ruler to be given the title, “מָשִׁיחַ” or Messiah. The exuberance of the people returning from Exile saw this man, this person who had given them back their temple, as a ruler who was worthy of a title only given to priests and Davidic kings until now. They looked at their Temple and their Walls and away from the abuses which Cyrus executed against the oppressed of the Persian empire. The taxes the broke the backs of the poor, the officials who were more interested in the foreign courts of Persia, all erased because a new center of orientation was created – a new Temple that the people could gather around.

Cyrus died, and then Persia was conquered by Greece. Alexander the Great began a program that would establish a Greek-speaking and Greek acting empire. The people of Judah were not an exception, and under the Seleucid ruler, Antiochus Epiphanes Judah and especially Jerusalem became like many other Greek cities. The Temple became a center of Greek Worship, and those who opposed were silenced through any means necessary. Following a lengthy revolutionary war, the Jewish people liberated themselves from Greece and established a new dynasty – a family that became gave a priest and a king – two Messiahs – that the people could look up to.

There was discontent among the people, they saw in the brutal uprising of the Maccabees another problem. If God wanted to bring peace only through these rebellions, then the only thing that would come again and again is more blood. So the belief began to form, among pious people not content with endless wars, that someday God would give a true anointed to God’s people. That a final victory could still be one, after which peace would reign. These people waited for God to inaugurate a kingdom of righteousness, and they believed that God – through individuals like Daniel had revealed a hidden secret. This revealing was understood through a single Greek word that over time would become loaded with meaning – revelation, ἀποκάλυψις, or as we call it today an apocalypse.

Those who ascertained these secrets formulated a great many ways to know the secrets of God’s work. They described monsters and signs in the sky. Warriors made of metal and fire. Dark creatures locked beneath the pillars of the earth and wrapped in adamantine chains. The complex symbolism of the Apocalyptics was never what it seemed – it was simultaneously literal and metaphorical, a conception of realities that cannot be described and of present events that demanded to be interpreted.

I have on my shelf in my office a collection of various Jewish texts that anticipated the coming of God into a new and glorious age. There are thirty-three such texts in the two-volume set alone. Each one looking out at the world in which the author lived, and simultaneously looking past it to a reality that was beyond them. To a reality where God was fully in command, where no one questioned what was right because that was all they knew. A world without tears or violence or unpleasantness, but only the good gifts of God and the fullness of communion with all believers.

By the time of Jesus, this worldview was common among the Jewish people. It was irregular, as in the case of the Sadducees, to not believe in some aspect of God’s immediate return to redeem God’s people. For Judah, the expectation was that God would come and destroy Rome, the oppressive regime that had stolen their sons and daughter and turned them into the foodstuffs for a military-industrial complex that was cruel and calculated. For the people Jesus speaks to in our scripture today, they each had their own take on what would happen in Judah, and they had a definite idea of what God’s anointed would look like when they appeared.

Jesus spoke against the views of almost every one of them though. The end would not come in the triumph of Jerusalem and the destruction of Rome – but would only come after Jerusalem was demolished and Rome victorious. When the Temple was plowed over and had a temple to Zeus built overtop of it. The Messiah would not be a great king or priest or warrior who would kill God’s enemies, but a humble teacher who would die for them.

Jesus’ words stand out in our text because, as in the time of Jesus, we have things that we cannot imagine losing in our life. People we love, places we depend on, ideas that give us a constant place to return to and find peace. All these things inevitably do disappear. We learn we grow, our opinions and views change. The buildings we meet in inevitably crumble, and eventually, even the greatest cathedral turns to sand. Hardest of all, friends loved ones, and ministers in our life eventually grow old and die. We reach a place of disorientation, we lose track of our footing, and we all ask for a sign.

Jesus’ message to us it that we will never know when the world will be turned on its head. We do not know when we will see war, rebellion, oppression. We do not know when we will get a diagnosis that sends us reeling or a phone call that destroys our heart. Jesus asks us to be alert, to be prepared but does not ask us to become worried about what is to come, but neither does Jesus ask us to be disinterested. The love that people had for the Temple is not what Jesus speaks against here, nor does Jesus speak against our desire for security and peace. What Jesus asks of us all is to be prepared when security disappears from us, when the world is turned upside down, so that we are not mislead in the aftermath.

Jesus warns that many will falsely come in Christ’s name when the Temple falls, all claiming that this is the final sign of the end times and some even claiming to be the one God has anointed to lead the people through them. Think of every major disaster that makes the news cycle. Within an hour ministers begin flooding the airways with messages – “This is the sign – this is the thing – follow me and we’ll be the ones to make it.”

On a more personal scale, there are always those who try, sometimes unintentionally, to manipulate us in times of grief. Those who tell us, “God is testing you,” “It’s all part of the plan,” “Don’t be sad!” “Be thankful it isn’t worse.” These are all common messages which serve one of two purposes – erasing the pain of the grieving because it makes those around them uncomfortable, or else manipulating the grieving into legitimizing the views feelings of those around them. The grieving are easy targets for those who want to control others.

Yet Jesus tells us something else. That even if the world should end, we can confidently follow Christ into tomorrow. When we hear of disaster, there can still be healing. When the Temples that we orient ourselves around are demolished, new ones will be built. Jesus insists that no matter what hardships we face – war, disease, betrayal, family dissolution, even death itself – that God is with us. Christ looks to the grieving and gives assurance and blessing, taking nothing to advantage himself in the process…

We follow a God who suffered with us. We follow a God who knows death and betrayal. A God who mourned the passing of friends. A God who knew all hardships of disease, of pain, of suffering, and of loss. This God does not look and tell us to, “endure,” as if that is an easy thing to do. This is a God who asks us to do so with the assurance that, just as Christ was not destroyed in death nor God in the loss of the Temple, we shall not be destroyed in our times of distress. The message today and always, no matter what the age or the signs of the time is simple, “Do not be afraid, for I am with you – even to the end of the age.” – Amen.

Ephesians 1:11-23

In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers. I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power.

God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

Sermon Text

Today we gather and celebrate All Saints Day. Today we take a moment to acknowledge that we are not alone in our pursuit of Christ. We are not alone in the slightest, not only because of the abundant goodness of God who is our All in All but also because of all those who gather together to worship this same God. All those who gather together at the table of grace – whether they be in Heaven or on Earth. We gather here with all who have ever lived and all who have died and all who will ever live and all who will ever die. Today we acknowledge the miracle of the Church, and the reality that at this table – somehow, someway, all of eternity comes to settle down among us.

For two thousand years, people have cast their hope on Christ. For two thousand years, we have worshipped our risen Lord. For two thousand years, the company of Heaven has grown. For two thousand years, the kingdom has made itself visible and has become hidden. The life of every believer a shining light in the dark, so that their death leaves a very real void. Even as the light shines brighter every day, there will always be those places where a light once shined, and now does not. There are always holes in the mosaic of our life, there are lights that have gone out in our chains, candles missing from chandeliers. We cannot help but notice them missing.

Yet, we do not believe that they will stay gone. We believe in a day that all weeping will cease. When heaven and earth are brought together and God reconciles all things to one another. On that day there will be no pain or death. There will be no more sickness, no need for medicines or surgeries. There will only be us, the Church Triumphant, and our God. Our Jesus. Our precious Holy Spirit. The world will be a temple, and we will be its priests. All will be right.

This day is an opportunity for us to celebrate in a special way what the future holds for us. Today we remember that we are not alone. That there are thousands of people, millions, billions even, who have gone before us in the faith. All gathered around the throne of God, all worshipping the one who rules eternity. They sing a never-ending hymn, “Holy, holy, holy.” There is communion with one another through all eternity, communion with God forever and ever. There is light, and never darkness. There is song, there is dance, there is laughter, there is life.

The life eternal begins the moment that we accept Christ and enter into the fellowship of the Church. Our eyes are opened, and we can finally see what the inheritance of saints really is. The beginning is in the here and now. When we love one another when we live a life that is bold and unafraid to do what is right. When we call the whole world our siblings, and we stop wasting time on anger, wasting energy on resentment. In that moment the life eternal begins. Our light can finally shine out fully in the darkness.

The life eternal continues as we grow in the faith. Our small light grows and affects more people. Our goodness grows and we endlessly reach upward into the goodness of God. Elevated as we are by the grace of God we are not just people who avoid evil but seek good. The world grows brighter not just because we shine outward but we bring others into our fellowship, lifting up the lowliest people to the highest heights. Our families, our friends, our community of the faithful expands outward all throughout our lives.

Of course, we do not go on forever. We age, we get sick, and eventually, we die. We see those around us go before we do. One after the other after another. Until finally, we too disappear. We are pushed through the veil and disappear into eternity. We leave an empty space. There is nothing left for us. There is only what once was us. Empty of personality and life, just a vessel. A lantern without a light, a candle without a wick.

What gives us hope is that the life we began here does not end. The light which Christ lights in our hearts cannot be extinguished, but only made dormant. The kindling is always there ready for life to be given back. The soul is not destroyed but rushes to our God. We who are left behind await reunion with the same anticipation as those who have gone before us. Those gathered around the throne, though ecstatic as they are in the presence of God, await the completion of all things. The day when there is no longer a separation between soul and body, living and dead, here and now, but everything is all at once. God is truly all in all. When the Communion of the Saints is not invisibly around us, but all around us.

The day when all our dear loved ones are back around us. Those we never knew but who have been praying for us in the presence of God. The fact that we go on, the fact that we do not have an end, means that we will continue on in perfection what we have begun now. The dead are not disinterested, the dead do not lose themselves, but in the new-life of Heaven are perfected. They remain themselves, but the self that they had only glimpsed before then.

Today we gather and share time together. Today we gather and break bread together. Today the invisible world around us becomes clear if only for a moment. Today… Yes, today we celebrate the faith we have in Christ, and our love for the Saints – those who went before us, those who sit among us today, those who are not yet born. Today is a day for All the Saints. – Amen.