Jesus’ disciples are dazzled by the temple in Jerusalem. Like tourists in New York City they crane their necks to take it all in: the size of the building, the beauty of it all, and the sheer awe of this place of worship so central to their devotions. Why wouldn’t they be dazzled? The temple was marvelous. Almost twenty centuries later archaeologists continue to be dazzled by what they discover there.

Jesus, however, is somewhat less impressed. The stones are enormous, weighing many tons, but he recognizes their vulnerability. Nothing built by humans is ever truly permanent. The days will come—not months or years or generations—the days will come when there will not be left "stone upon stone" (to translate literally). It looks so permanent, so solid, so dependable, but no "stone upon stone" will be left.

I have been similarly dazzled by the temple here at First UMC. This is truly a marvelous building full of historic and esthetic value. It represents a powerhouse of Christian discipleship in Fort Dodge. Gary Lavalley told me the other day that a book has been written about this place: One Foot in Heaven. I am as impressed as you are by the grandeur of this place. What if Jesus were to walk in the door and say: This is a big pile of junk. It will soon be nothing but a pile of rubble.” I also know that FUMC of FD staggers under the burden of this building, but we still love the place and hope to stay here a very long time. The costs of maintaining, heating, insuring are enormous, to be sure – probably more than the current congregation can sustain. And the century old architecture no longer supports the kinds of programs and worship that modern church goers desire. Besides, this congregation is too small to support this building. But all the same, if Jesus were to make the same arguments he made about the temple in Jerusalem, we’d drive him out of town on a rail, which of course is exactly what happened to him and would happen to me if I made a similar prophesy. We love this building too much to abandon it to the wrecking ball. But Jesus delivered just such a message to a people who loved and believed in their temple just as much as we do in ours and for very much the same reasons: They thought their congregation could not survive the loss of their temple.

The people of Israel were going through a time of great challenge when Luke penned these words of national catastrophe. The temple was probably already destroyed and the early Christians and Jews were standing around in horror at the destruction of their dreams. Both Judaism and Christianity as we know them today are in great part a result of that cataclysm. The faith which once centered in the temple was transformed through the violence of the Romans, transformed into a faith spread over the globe. We, and to be sure we are the descendants of that forlorn group huddled around the ruins of their temple, we are here because that temple was destroyed. We are the great people of the book, gathered in churches and synagogues around the world because the temple was destroyed and as a result our ancestors in the faith had to fend for themselves in foreign lands hostile to their beliefs. Truth be told, if the temple had been left standing we’d probably still be a small group of people following an obscure first century prophet in an unimportant corner of the near east. Sometimes our temples need to be destroyed to free us to face the future open to the new thing that God wants to do for and with us.

What this says to me is that there may be newness coming to us through the work of God, but we all too often miss the promises of God by clinging to the familiar and the comfortable. The new almost always hurts. In fact, I would say this is one of the reasons why we experience so little in our lives that is truly new. Invariably, for something to be born, something must die. For us to enter a "new world," we have got to let go of an old one. That can be painful. And we avoid pain.

I’m sure that many if not all of you have lived through painful circumstances in your life that destroyed a beautiful and beloved temple but ushered in an even more dazzling dawn.

Last year at this time, I was full of anxiety about whether Governor Culver would keep me on at Elder Affairs. I was making a nice salary. I enjoyed my work. I felt I made a real contribution to public policy regarding older people. But most of all I feared the unknown of what I might do if I lost my job, lost my salary, and lost my days full of meaningful and rewarding activity. Well, my beautiful temple was thrown down. Not a stone was left standing. The Governor had his own friends who needed a job, my job, as it turned out. I thought my future looked really bleak. For a while, I was quite depressed and tried to figure out a way to rebuild my temple in state government. Failing at that, I applied to a few jobs that looked like they might fit my interests and abilities. I didn’t get any of them either. But a strange thing happened to me in the ensuing months. I found that I was relieved to be free of the burdens which that job brought with it. I slept more soundly without the stress of office politics. I had never dreamed people could be as mean to each other as I experienced in government work. And then the bishop called and asked me whether I might consider coming to First Church in FD. It was the farthest thing from my mind, but it really clicked in my brain and so here I am. You have been so welcoming and helpful to me as I make the adjustments to being back in the ministry that I’m convinced God has called us together to do some very important work. It’s only gradually becoming clear to me what this work may entail – but I think that if we can endure the loss of some familiar, comfortable, beautiful temples, new life will emerge here at First church in Ft Dodge.

Now, I don’t actually think that this particular temple needs to be destroyed. Just the opposite, in fact. It’s not perfect for our needs and it does cause financial strain, but the power of its history and the magic of its spiritual potential mean we must find a way to sustain the witness of this church into the future. There will be some temples destroyed as people give more money, create a leaner budget, use the endowment in new ways and find more effective ways to be in ministry. I heard an orthopedic surgeon say about back pain once that hurt does not always mean harm. Keep on exercising was his message, I think. Well, there will be some pain around here as we retool for the 21^st Century here at First UMC, but there will no doubt also be gain.

Our temples are not always buildings, you see. Our temples are also sometimes intangible structures we erect in our minds, our imaginations, or our hearts. When our "temples" of marriage, family, career, or religious belief come tumbling down, sometimes we are tempted to try to rebuild them exactly as they were. At other times we respond by doing nothing, "sitting passively on the rubble of our fallen temple" and assuming that the whole world is ending.

My mother was a person who resisted change with a determination which defied all reason. She had the misfortune of being married to a man who embraced change beyond all reason. It was not always a harmonious match. Their itinerate life together moving from town to town, job to job, was a torment to her. When my family finally settled in St. Cloud MN for long enough to put down roots, she arranged the furniture in the house I grew up in so that it could not possibly be moved one foot in any direction – which it never was until my dad dragged her kicking and screaming to Florida for one last move. She kept trying to hang on to the temples of her past and missed much of the new life which opened to her as she aged.

We all have temples which crumble. We lose our jobs. We lose our spouses. We lose our health. We lose our homes. We lose our hopes. In my work with older people, nothing was more evident than their desire to remain at home as they age. But this is not always a good choice. As I visit our members at Friendship Haven, for instance, I see the ease, convenience and safety of their lives there and am reminded of my father who moved into such a place at age 89– only after my mother died, of course. His first words were: I wish I had done this 20 years ago. I’m told this is a common reaction. Sometimes, the temples we cherish need to be demolished so we can do what we really need to do. Our temples, like the temple of Jerusalem, must sometimes crumble so that the promises of God can be fulfilled.

The destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in AD 70 transformed the people who experienced it. The early church was transformed from a small group within Jerusalem into a band of evangelizing enthusiasts who left the ruined temple to seek their future in the wider world. The people of Israel were likewise scattered to become the people of the book in lands around the world By destroying the temple, the Romans freed the early Christians to take their movement to the world and the rest, as they say, is history - our history, in fact. We would not be here if the early Christians had remained faithful to the temple in Jerusalem. With the destruction of the temple, early Christianity was transformed.

Transformation is something we are especially good at in the church. I suspect this is what most of us seek as we come to church. We want an experience of God. We want the spirit of God in our lives and we expect that this will change us somehow. We want to walk away from worship a different person. Those who don’t come to worship avoid the transforming moment that worship can be. They probably don’t think they need to change and can’t imagine how the spirit of God has any relevance to their lives. Perhaps those who do not come to worship actually fear the transforming power of being in the presence of God. In any case, they are right that if you come to church often enough, a few of your temples will come tumbling down.

But we here in this room do not fear the transforming power of God’s spirit, even when that spirit speaks to us from the rubble of a great catastrophe. We long for the transforming moment when we become truly loving and become truly loving, kind and generous people.

My hope and prayer is that we will be transformed as Christians whenever our temples are torn asunder. Jesus told us that when catastrophe strikes, we should begin paying attention to the signs of God in the rubble. A transformation awaits us if we look for Jesus in the temple ruins. The promise of God is that flowers can grow in even the most inhospitable terrain.

Lord, hear our prayers. We thank you for the opportunity to learn and grow in our faith. We thank you for this time of Thanksgiving as we remember those who have too little to be thankful. Bless our efforts to share with others in the Lord’s Cupboard this season. Inspire us to be generous beyond measure with the bounty you provide. We thank you for your continual revelation of your will for us. We thank you for the challenges which transform us into the Christian disciples you would have us be. Lord help us find you in the midst of our lives, in even the sad and lonely moments, for we trust that you are with us always and that nothing can separate us from your love. We believe, O God, help us live as people who put their trust in the Lord. Amen.

Prayer of Dedication

Holy one, in Jesus you have made known not only your love and provision for all creation, but your vision of a realm of mercy, justice, and peace on earth. We make this offering as investment in your outlook. Bless our gifts as we look forward with hope and faith. Amen.