H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
19 March 2006
THE LASTING TEMPLE
John 2:13-22
Jesus has just burst into the Temple and wreaked havoc among the moneychangers and the
animal sellers. As the chaos dies down, the outraged Jewish leaders come to Jesus and they
demand to know what right he has to disrupt the business of the Temple. What follows is typical in
John’s gospel. Jesus says something with a spiritual meaning, but his listeners completely
misunderstand. “Destroy this Temple,” Jesus says, “and in three days I will raise it up again!”
The Jewish leaders think that Jesus is talking about the Temple building. “You’ve got to be
kidding,” they say. “Herod began remodeling this Temple forty-six years ago and it still isn’t finished.
And you’re telling us that you could rebuild this place in three days? Not likely!”
But then John the gospel-writer takes the readers aside, and says to us, “Jesus was really
talking about the Temple of his body. After his resurrection his disciples remembered his words.”
Now when Jesus compares himself to the Temple, he is not only predicting his own resurrection, but
he is also revealing who he is and what he means to those who believe in him. If we begin to think of
Jesus as the true Temple, at least four ideas emerge.
First, the Temple was the place where believers entered into the presence of God. In Jewish
belief the eyes of God were open day and night toward the Temple, and those who approached God
through the Temple would always be welcome. And now Jesus has become the true and living
Temple and it is through Christ that we come to God.
People are looking for God. People want to find God, but some of us are looking in strange
places. Did you hear about the grilled cheese sandwich that bears the supposedly miraculous image
of the virgin Mary. A Florida woman took one bite of the sandwich then noticed Mary’s face on the
bread, so she felt it would be wrong to eat it. Instead, she put it on eBay where it sold for $28,000.
A woman in New Mexico discovered the likeness of Jesus in her breakfast tortilla and built a
shrine in her back yard where tens of thousands of people have come to view her breakfast.
A man in Australia says that the image of Jesus appeared in his frying pan after he made lemon
mustard cream sauce. He says the frying pan miracle has strengthened his faith and he hopes it will
do the same for others. It certainly strengthens my belief—my belief in Teflon.
A Muslim in England sliced open an eggplant and found that the seeds spelled out the name
Allah in Arabic.
My favorite is the fish-cutter in New York who was about to slaughter a 20 pound carp when the
fish began to shout apocalyptic prophecies in Hebrew. Some local Jews became convinced God had
been revealed through the fish. The oddest part of that story is that they cut the fish up and sold it
anyway.
We’re looking for God, but we’re making it harder than it needs to be. You know how in the
cartoons there’s a treasure map with an X on it, and when you follow the map you find a spot of
ground with a big X? This is the spot! Right here!
God has made it almost that easy for you and me. Christ is the X that marks the spot where God
can be found. Remember the disciple Philip said, “Jesus, show us God.” And Jesus said, “Philip,
have I been with you all this time and you still don’t know me? If you see me, then you’ve seen God. I
and the Father are one.”
God wants to know you face to face, wants to love you, and wants your love in return. God has sent
Christ into the world to be the Temple where that can happen, the living Temple where we can come
face to face with the living God. Some people want to put their money on the virgin Mary grilled cheese
or the talking fish, but I’ll take my chances with Jesus.
The ancient Temple was also the place where God’s people came together with one another—
came together for prayer, for music, for worship—came together to be a community. We Christians do
that in Christ. We come together in our Lord to become a community, a family, a household where we
can love and be loved. Truth to tell, we’re not all that good at loving. When we pull it off, it’s because
Christ is in us and we are in Christ, and when that happens it is a beautiful thing.
John Beck used to be a football star for UK. Later on he became a preacher and served as
Chaplain of the U.S. Olympic Teams. He decided that this was a picture of what Christianity really
ought to be, these sincere and devoted young people who were willing to pay any price for victory.
Then one day Beck visited the Special Olympics, where all the athletes bring some kind of mental
or physical impairment. Beck watched eight runners compete in the 100-yard dash, and he was
amazed at how fast they were. But about halfway through the race, one of the boys fell down, bloodied
his knee, and started to cry. All seven of the other runners stopped, went back and helped the crying
boy to his feet. Then the eight of them walked to the finish line together.
Beck says that’s the day he discovered the real meaning of the church where broken people come
together in the Temple of Christ to love and belong and finish together. Christ is the living Temple in
which God’s people come together—not for competition, not for profit, not for self-interest—but for
community, for service, for love.
In Jesus’ day the Temple had another function along with meeting God and meeting one
another. The Temple was also the place where believers brought their sacrifices to God. Those
sacrifices were the outward symbol of the inward sacrifice of oneself.
If Jesus is our Temple then it is through Jesus Christ we offer our lives to God. That’s one
reason the cross has become the symbol of our faith, pointing first to Christ’s sacrifice for us, but also
signifying our sacrifice to Christ.
Sacrifice isn’t a very popular word these days. Look at our advertising, our lotteries, our schemes
for quick success. The world constantly appeals to our self-centeredness, our desire for instant
gratification, the hunger for easy thrills. And sometimes we fall for it, but we want more than the world
can give. In moments of silence and reflection, we realize that it’s not enough to receive. We want to
give something.
Remember that famous want ad placed in the London papers by Ernest Shackleton when he was
trying to mount an expedition to the South Pole? “Men wanted for hazardous journey. Small wages,
bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful. Honor and
recognition in case of success.” Shackleton was hoping for fifty responses to the ad, but five thousand
men contacted him hoping for a place on the ship. We want to serve a cause bigger than ourselves,
we want there to be something in life to which we can give every ounce of strength and devotion and
effort and know that it was worth it. Christ offers us something to which we can give ourselves without
regret.
I remember the first year we put this cross in here for Lent. A couple of elders got here early on
Sunday morning to bring the cross inside and set it up. For some reason we’d left it outside in the
weather and the cross dirty with hunks of frozen mud hanging on it. It’s rough; it will tear your church
clothes and leave splinters in your hands. It’s heavy and awkward. I went out to help and I almost
knocked a window out getting it through the door. When the elders got it propped up it looked like it
was going to fall over and crush somebody, so we had somebody over the next Saturday to make the
stand more stable.
In other words, this ornamental cross is lot like the real thing: rough, dirty, heavy, dangerous,
and hard to handle. And yet this is the recruitment tool of the church. All the church can offer is the
cross, and the one who hung on the cross, the one who said, “Deny yourself and follow me.”
And for twenty centuries now, ordinary men and women like us have been caught up in that
challenge. So here we sit, at the foot of this monstrosity, not because the cross is a pleasant
prospect, and the Lord knows we don’t often live up to it, but somewhere deep inside we are
convinced that the guarded, hoarded life will go sour on us, and the only life really worth having is the
life that we give away, the life that we spend for the sake of a great cause. Christ is the Temple in
which we give ourselves to God.
There is one last thing to notice in this story. Jesus Christ is the Temple that will never pass
away. The Jews once believed that their Temple would last forever, but they were tragically mistaken.
The Temple that Jesus visited was swept away less than forty years later. This fallen world in
bondage to rebellious powers will always seek to destroy the things of God, will tear them down or
mock them or nail them to a cross. But Christ cannot be destroyed; the saving power of Jesus Christ
is here to stay. “Destroy this Temple and in three days I will raise it back up.”
This world can do its worst, but as long as we are in Christ the world cannot undo us.
Catastrophes of health or finance, setbacks at work or at home, disappointments in our relationships
and our goals, even our own self-inflicted wounds, these things can be endured and even overcome
in Christ. The world is not strong enough to undermine the foundation of Christ on which we stand, or
to topple the pillars of his sheltering strength. “In the world,” says Jesus, “you will have tribulation, but
be of good cheer for I have overcome the world! And I will always be with you.”
The ancient Temple in Jerusalem was a wonder of architecture and beauty. As a student of
history I wish I could have seen it. But as a disciple I know it’s better this way. I can’t go to that Temple,
but the Living Temple has come to me: the Temple of Jesus Christ, who brings me into the presence
of God, who draws me together with sisters and brothers, who gives me a cross to carry, and who will
always be there to help me carry it.
Soli Deo Gloria!