
Sermon, November 18, 2001
24 Pentecost; Proper 28, Year C
The Rev. Lowell E. Grisham
St. Paul's Episcopal Church
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Gospel – Luke 21:5-19 Jesus’ predictions about future troubles
There is a story that is supposed to be true, about a Benedictine archbishop of the High Middle Ages living in the days when people endowed the monasteries with great wealth and priceless art in exchange for the prayers of the monks. The archbishop had been away on state business, and as he returned home to his grand castle, he could see that the estate was entirely engulfed in flames. Quietly he watched his majestic home burn with all of its treasures within, and he was overheard saying with a rapt expression, "Dear God, a burning fire is a beautiful thing to watch."
One of the words that has crossed easily into both the language of the spirit and the language of psychology is the term attachment. If you’ve worshiped for very long in this beautiful and holy place, you have probably formed some attachment to this very space. If you walk in here and feel calm coming over you, if you look around and sense a rising feeling of peace – you have nurtured some attachment to this place of worship.
Several years ago when I was the rector of St. John’s in Fort Smith, a tornado hit the downtown area, crossed over the Arkansas River and did great damage to Van Buren. In the earliest moments of dawn, the Junior Warden Gene Rapley got into his car to go see about the church. Gene Rapley had been brought up in that church; baptized as a child. His parents had both been buried from that church. He had chaired the capital funds drive to restore it. He loves that church with all his heart.
As he wound his way through the blocked streets and fallen limbs, it seemed to take him forever to get close to the downtown. Reports made it sound like the tornado had hit right where the church was. As he got a few blocks away, the road was entirely blocked. It looked like a war zone. He could go no further.
He got out of his car, and picked his way by flashlight and by the beginning streaks of eastern light. I’ll never forget his face as he told me the story. "I came up from C Street, not knowing if I it would even be there;" then his voice broke and tears welled up, "and there she was. Old St. Paul’s standing strong and proud," and Gene dissolved with sobs of gratitude.
Maybe you have seen the way Jewish pilgrims come to the Wailing Wall, the only part of the ancient Jerusalem temple still standing. They touch the wall; they kiss its stones; they bow in reverence and tuck small notes of intercession into its ancient cracks. It is that temple that Luke has Jesus speak of in this gospel: "When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, Jesus 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.’"
Even ancient and powerful and holy things are mere things. Temporary, vulnerable, passing away. They can serve as means to connect us with the divine, but they are not divine. We were created for God, and only God will truly satisfy us. We were created with a God-shaped vacuum within us, and only God can fill our deepest longing. Everything we trust in short of God will fail; it is temporary, vulnerable, passing away.
And yet, at the same time, all creation is good. This church is a good and holy place where we find we can be drawn into a sense of God’s presence. The Bible and the Sacraments are good and holy, and they point us to God and reveal God to us. But all of these are still just things. They are not the reality of the divine Mystery which alone can satisfy us.
So Jesus gives us warnings. Don’t put your deepest trust in things. Don’t become attached to that which is less than God. And he points to the holiest object in their world and says to his friends, "all will be thrown down."
The reaction of those who hear him is one of predictable anxiety. "When? How will we know?" Another attachment – the need to know; one of our desperate forms of control. "You can’t know!" he tells them, "and don’t believe anyone who says they know." The enticement of various forms of fundamentalism is the promise of certainty in an uncertain world. "Do not go after them," Jesus says. Surrender your need to know, and trust instead the divine mystery that is known in unknowing.
"When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified." Jesus takes aim at another attachment – the need for security. In a violent and fragile world, it is the way of humanity that there will be wars. There will be earthquake and famine and plague. We live in a vulnerable creation. That’s the way it is. There is nothing you can do to guarantee your safety. Relax and accept reality, accept your vulnerability. There are things which will threaten to make us afraid, to terrify us – portents and even signs from heaven. Do not be afraid. The living God of the resurrected One is greater than all these. Your security is within God’s mysterious divine life.
Jesus even goes further, and releases them from the need even to defend themselves, bodily or verbally. "Don’t bother to prepare your defense in advance. I’ll give you the words you need."
Finally, he goes to our most intimate and vulnerable place. Family. You can’t even trust your own family. Not ultimately. And how many of us know that all too well.
The spiritual journey is a journey toward pure faith in God. That’s where our ultimate happiness lies. God’s divine loving presence is always with us at the center of our being, breathing us into life. God is our perfect security, perfect truth, perfect love. Only God is great enough to fulfill our deepest needs.
Everything else is a gift. This place, that family, that earthquake, another threat. Underneath it all is the bedrock presence of God loving us into being. So relax and be free. "Not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls."
When you are no longer attached, clinging fearfully to what you are afraid to lose, you are free to enjoy everything. You are as free to shed tears of gratitude when the tornado misses as you are free to enjoy the beauty of the fire. You are as free to seek truth boldly as you are free not to know much with any certainty. You are free to live safely within the wings of God’s divine care even as you are free to surrender your life in a moment in this unpredictable and vulnerable world. You are free to speak openly and to love extravagantly even as you are free to suffer betrayal and sabotage without being undone.
You are free to use and enjoy every created thing in its appropriate way. To care for this holy place and support its good work. To love your family and to work and to grow. But do all that accepting how temporary, vulnerable and passing away all is, except God. And hold on to things lightly. Don’t trust them. Don’t trust them for your happiness. No, trust God. Only God is enough to make you happy; enough to satisfy you. If you try to fill your appetite for God with something or someone else, you’ll just make a mess of things.