If you ‘Google’ “San Diego fires,” one of the first web sites you may discover is that of the San Diego Union newspaper. One of the links at that site contains a series of photo albums from the fires. At the time I viewed the images in the middle of last week, more than 30,000 people had already looked at them. What was most remarkable for me was that the first set of pictures in one of the albums was taken at two churches near Mt. Palomar two weeks ago today. Pictures from each service contained images of priests serving Communion to fire fighters – one in front of the burned out hulk of a totally destroyed church, the other inside a church a short distance away that had been spared. As dramatic as these pictures are – and as devastating as we have all heard these fires were – I suspect only someone who has been caught in such devastation can comprehend what it is like. People from New Orleans and the Gulf Coast two years ago can – residents of Haiti and the Dominican Republic from just one week ago can – residents of Shangri-la, Cape Horn and Hamilton in 2003 can, as well. I cannot; I’ve never lost everything except the clothes on my back. I’ve never had my home and entire community destroyed. I’ve never been utterly dependent upon the charity of others for survival. Perhaps some of you have.

Because I have not, I have a difficult time truly appreciating the full impact of our scripture reading from Haggai. God spoke through the prophet to say to the people of Israel, “take courage, all you people of the land, for I am with you, says the Lord of hosts.”

Israel had been in exile in Babylon seventy years. With the rise of Cyrus the Persian and his successors, exiles were allowed to return. What they found would have broken their hearts, as surely as the hearts of those returning to burned out areas of Southern California are broken, and those who are still returning to the Lower Ninth Ward in New Orleans and other areas along the Gulf Coast. What they would have witnessed would have been destruction as complete as these. Most devastating of all to them was the destruction of the Temple. Haggai’s role in all of this was to be a voice of encouragement for rebuilding. Haggai was a voice of reassurance that, despite appearances, God had not completely abandoned Israel. “My spirit abides among you,” God said through Haggai, “do not fear … the latter splendor of this house shall be greater than the former, says the Lord of hosts … in this place I will give prosperity, says the Lord of hosts.”

“There is a future,” God was saying. “Homes will be rebuilt; the Temple will be rebuilt; olives and grapes and grains for food will be harvested again,” God was saying to the people. Given the devastation, this must have been an exceedingly difficult message to speak persuasively. Surely Haggai, himself, would have been as impacted by the destruction as everyone else. Yet in his very soul, he heard the voice of God – and the voice of God was the voice of hope. God speaks with that same tone of reassurance and hope today, as then. “There is a future,” God says, “there is a future that will be as satisfying and life-giving as anything in the past.”

The hope for the future toward which Haggai was pointing was a very particular hope. Haggai spoke to all people of the land; together they were encouraged to find their hope in God’s presence. Haggai was not just addressing the ruling elite; he was not just addressing the wealthiest land owners – nor, on the other hand, was he speaking only to those who seemed to be left outside the power structures of the time. Haggai was reminding the people that together all of them were essential for the task at hand – and, in addition to all of the individual building projects that lay before them as families, lay the communal responsibility for rebuilding the Temple. For Haggai, the Temple was the most important project because it was the single most important reminder of God’s presence among the people. More than that, the rebuilding of the Temple was the one sure way of assuring that the message of God’s presence among the people would be a message of hope for future generations, as well as the present generation. Haggai’s words were as much directed to future generations as to his contemporary generation.

The Word of God, today, is as much for all people as it was then. God’s words of hope and reassurance are as much communal now, as then. God’s reassurance of God’s presence is as universal now, as then. “Take courage,” God says, “I am with you despite any adversity you may be facing.”

As Haggai looked around him, he saw that most families were far more committed to rebuilding their own homes and establishing their own crops than in rebuilding the Temple. Through the trauma of the defeat by Babylon and their exile for three generations, they had lost much of their sense of unity – and they had lost a great deal of their sense of commitment to God as both the focal point of that unity and as their very reason for existence. Israel had forgotten that its very name meant called by God! Haggai felt inspired by God to urge the people to rebuild the Temple to reverse this tendency of dissolution and distancing from God. Haggai knew that the Temple would become a highly visible reminder of both God’s presence among them and that God, alone, was their very source of life!

In the Christian world, church buildings have long served the same functions among God’s people. Close your eyes a few seconds and visual a New England village. Think of a post card or Christmas card, if that helps. What do you see in the middle of the village? Is it a white-framed church with a prominent steeple topped by a cross? Now think of major cities in Europe; in Paris, besides the Eiffel Tower and Arch de Triumph, what building comes to mind? – the Cathedral of Notre Dame, or perhaps Sacra Coeur? Cologne, Germany? -- it’s distinctive cathedral with its massive twin spires? Rome – St. Peter’s Basilica? Now visualize the towns in which you grew up. Did any of you have the experience that I did? I remember many, many times as a child, while returning from family shopping trips to “the big city” of St. Cloud, my sister and I would be challenged to see who could see the steeple of the Catholic Church first. Now, granted, this was mostly a devise by my mother and grandparents to get us to stop fighting in the back seat – but it was also a recognition that the steeple was the most prominent and visible feature of the town.

Now think of some cities in this country, like New York. What buildings or places come to mind? the Empire State building – Times Square, Wall Street and, until 2001, the Twin Towers? What about Chicago? – the Sears Tower or John Hancock Building? San Francisco? – the Golden Gate Bridge, cable cars, and Transamerica Building? What do they symbolize? Big business, insurance, finance, entertainment, and the American love for mobility!

Haggai wanted the people of Israel to realize that how and where they invested their time and resources served as a clear measure of their priorities. Haggai very clearly wanted to change those priorities to focus on God. Rebuilding the Temple, in his mind, was the one sure way to accomplish that. What was true in Haggai’s day, is true today: how and where we invest our time and resources reveal the priorities in our lives. As we contemplate these realities in our lives, it is important to remember these words from Haggai: “take courage, all you people of the land; work, for I am with you, says the Lord.”

For us, however, it is more than the church building that reminds us of God’s faithful presence. For us there is the Cross. Look toward the front of our sanctuary – what is the most prominent feature? For me it is the cross. As someone pointed out to me again, recently, the distinctiveness of a cross in most Protestant churches is its emptiness. For us it is not only that Christ was crucified, but that he was raised from the dead by the power of God’s love. The empty cross serves as a reminder to us that, not only is God in the midst of us, but that God is alive in the midst of us. For us, Christ’s Resurrection is the source of hope and courage in our lives. Church buildings may remind us of God’s presence in the midst of our secular culture, but the empty cross reminds us that God is present among us for Life, eternal life!

Over the years, I have heard any number of people ask about eternal life and heaven: what will it be like? Will I see my parents, grandparents, spouses, and children once I get there? Will we become angels? Will we be able to return to earth and be near our loved ones? Are the streets really paved with gold? In the time of Jesus, when faith in resurrection was much debated and much doubted, people asked similar questions of Jesus – our Gospel text contains some of them, specifically around the issue of marriage. Jesus was very clear: In resurrection, there will be no more marriage, there will be no more death, there will only be the powerful reality of being children of God. The very elaborate description of heaven in John’s Revelation notwithstanding, none of us can speak with any certainty about eternity – because, to my knowledge, none of us has been there and returned. The specifics of eternal life, the details of heaven’s appearance, are matters of faith. The certainty of eternal life is as well. For those who believe the promises of God there is no doubt, there is only hope!

In the midst of the destructive fires of San Diego County this past month, whether consciously or not, even the secular media focused for a time on the promises of the resurrection. Those pictures of priests serving The Lord’s Supper to firefighters are powerful reminders of the resurrection, of God’s life-giving presence among us, even in the midst of utter destruction. Those pictures are reminders of God’s promise of New Life. Pictures of people sharing the Lord’s Supper are powerful reminders of God’s words spoken by the prophet Haggai: “take courage, all you people … for I am with you.” To us, of course, the words of God are spoken a bit differently: “take courage, people of the Resurrection, I am with you, says the Lord … I am with you for life – life today, life tomorrow, life forever.” “I am with you,” God promises, “because not even death can separate you from me” – and that is the greatest source of hope of all!

Amen

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