A sermon on Luke 21:5-19 by Nathan Nettleton

On September 11, 2001, two hijacked passenger planes were intentionally crashed into the 110-storey Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City, resulting in the collapse of both buildings soon afterward. Not one stone was left upon another; all was thrown down. The unthinkable had happened. Most of us can remember exactly where we were when we first heard about it. Even though we were on the other side of the world, for most of us the pictures and news footage of that day will replay in our mind’s eye for the rest of our lives. There have been other disasters before and since with much larger loss of life — Typhoon Haiyan caused much more widespread damage in the Philippines this past week, and the death toll may be larger — but for most of us, none of them have affected us quite as dramatically, because World Trade Center attack changed the world as we knew it. Not just because of the disastrous war that has followed it, but because the destruction of the Twin Towers symbolised something much bigger than even 110 storey buildings. Somehow they symbolised our society’s capacity to achieve whatever it wanted to achieve. They stood as some sort of symbolic assurance of the global supremacy of western capitalist democracy. Our previously unshakeable confidence that the military supremacy of western capitalist democracies meant that we could always defend ourselves against attacks was blown to smithereens when the towers were brought down by ten men armed with pocket knives. Dark and fearful times. Our world has seemed a lot less certain and secure since then.

We are not the first people in history to experience such an earth-shattering and world-view destroying attack. The destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in the year 70 C.E. had a quite similar impact on the people of that day. Jesus was one of a number of people who predicted it, but by the time Luke wrote his account of Jesus’ words, it had already happened, so the account gives us some sense of the way people were reacting. The temple dominated the Jerusalem skyline, just as surely as the twin towers did in New York City. Luke describes what must have been a common scene: people are walking around in the temple, marvelling at its scale, its grandeur and its spectacular adornment. For the people of Jerusalem, the temple was a source of enormous pride. It was central to their whole sense of identity. “We are the people who live in God’s own city, who live within sight of the Temple, the house of God. We are proud and confident. Surely nothing can ever destroy us, for God will let no harm come to his city and its inhabitants.” But as the sightseers bask in the glory of the Temple, Jesus says, “These things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

Unthinkable. Unimaginable. And yet, less than forty years later, the previously unshakeable confidence in the global supremacy of Jerusalem and its God was blown to smithereens when the Temple was brought down and the city sacked by the Roman army. Dark and fearful times. The world seemed a lot less certain and secure after that.

The towers and temples in which we put our trust and which symbolise our identity and security are not always built of stone and concrete and steel. And they do not always belong to a whole society or culture the way the Twin Towers or the Jerusalem Temple did. Most people have their own personal towers and temples too.

For some, it will be your job, or a particular position on the career ladder. You’ve worked hard to get there. It means the world to you. If asked about yourself, the first thing you talk about, and the main thing you talk about is your work. You’re proud of what you do and where you’ve got to. It defines you and gives you a sense of purpose and place in the world. Because it is rock solid, you know your world is okay and nothing much could go too wrong. But a dreadful day comes when not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down. The company collapses unexpectedly and everyone is out of work. Or you get sick or injured and are unable to return to work. Your whole world collapses. Not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down.

For others, it will be some sure hope for your future, perhaps a dream of being married and having children of your own. There are plenty of other things in your life, but the thing that really matters to you, the thing that really defines who you are and how you see yourself, is the confidence that before too much longer you’ll be a parent, and a good one. Since you were little you’ve anticipated the day when you’d hold a child of your own, and then another. That would be the pinnacle, the thing that would make life complete. As long as that day is coming, all is well with the world. But a dreadful day comes when not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down. Perhaps you marry and find yourselves unable to conceive. Perhaps you just wake up one day and realise that your 43 and still single and even if you marry one day, the whole kids-of-your-own thing is out the window. Your whole world collapses. Not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down.

For others it will be your health and fitness, and perhaps good looks, that stand as the assurance that all is well with your world and the future is bright. But one dreadful day the doctor says “Cancer!”, or you are disfigured in a car accident, or you just look in the mirror one day and see someone much older and tireder than you expected looking back and you know that another round of plastic surgery or a doubling of your gym regime is not going to make you look and feel 29 again. Not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down.

For others it will be a “perfect” marriage that comes crashing down, through death or infidelity, or perhaps just through realising that although it works and will last, it will never measure up to the dream marriage that had always lived in your head. Not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down.

For some, it is political success, and Kevin Rudd is probably feeling at the moment like not one stone is left upon another; all is thrown down.

“As for these things that you see – these magnificent symbols of our success and accomplishment and security – the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” And 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.”

Jesus hasn’t said there would be a sign, but those who hear him assume that there must be a sign, a warning. But Jesus doesn’t offer them a sign. In fact he warns them that a preoccupation with warning signs would lead them astray. “Many will come claiming that they can read and interpret the signs. Don’t go after them.” Jesus does not call us all to be prophets. He calls us to avoid falling for false prophets. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not about being able to predict the course of the future or read the supernatural signs. Nor is the gospel about securing our world so that towers and temples will not fall. Rather, the gospel offers to empower us and resource us so that when the towers and temples do fall, even the ones we have erected for ourselves, that we can endure and survive and find a way out of the rubble and on towards new life and new hope.

You can react to these kind of predictions by getting caught up in the speculation and prophesying games, or you can react as Jesus calls us to react, by living out the gospel even more boldly and courageously in the midst of the calamities that engulf our world. Jesus is quite clear that if we follow him, far from staying out of harms way, we will in fact attract hostility and suspicion. If we stand aside from the great symbols our society erects and refuse to bow down to worship the great towers, or the great career paths, or the great dream families, or the celebrity perfect bodies, and instead set about loving the victims who stumble from the smoking rubble looking for a place of refuge and asylum, we will be accused of being on the side of those who bring down towers, who undermine marriage and the family, who ruin economies. In the midst of the hostility and attacks, says Jesus, you will have the opportunity to testify, to bear witness to a life and a hope that is not bound up in towers and temples of our own making. Paradoxically he says, “You will be betrayed and hated and they will put some of you to death, but not a hair of your head will perish.” You may be killed, but not harmed! “By your endurance you will gain your souls.” He should know. He has endured all that too. He has been put to death and made even death the pathway to real life. And now as he warns us that we may face the same, he promises to be there with us when the towers fall and the hostilities break out. The one who knows what it is like will be there to see us through.

Towers and temples will fall. They have before and they will again. There is probably not one among you who will not know again the experience of your tower falling, your world falling apart; not one stone left on another as all is thrown down. The good news is not protection against that. The good news is that towers and temples were not all they were cracked up to be in the first place, and that in their falling is the invitation to find the life and hope that will endure even when all is thrown down. For as many of us can attest, it is when the towers fall that we see most clearly that only God’s unshakeable love and towering compassion remain. Though our world comes crashing down, we find ourselves falling into the loving hands of God, and if we can resist the temptation to quickly erect another tower, we can rest in those hands and find the life that really is life. Most of us have to learn that lesson several times. Most of us get caught up in the stampede to get another tower up to give us something to believe in. But as my daughter Acacia, then seven years old, asked when we visited the site of the Twin Towers collapse and looked at the artists impression of the new tower to go up in their place, “What’s to stop someone bringing the new one down just the same?”

Towers and temples will fall. Not one stone will be left upon another. But do not despair. Do not be terrified. For whether they stand or whether they fall they are little more than idols and distractions and false promises anyway; symbols of our delusion more than of our accomplishment. When nothing else stands, God’s unshakeable love and towering compassion remain. Turn to them now and live. Turn to them now and know yourself beloved. Turn to them now and by your endurance, gain your souls.