H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
16 November 2003
ON CHRIST THE SOLID ROCK
Mark 13:1-8
When I was a boy my mother used to drag me to the A&P for the weekly grocery shopping. Except for clothing stores, I’ve never found any place more
boring than a grocery store, so I’d slip out behind the shopping center where there was a marshy lagoon. I suppose it was some sort of storm water basin.
The place was fenced off to keep people like me out, but climbing the fence was part of the fun. The place was full of cattails, frogs and snakes.
Of course, standing on the edge of the water was no fun, so I’d work my way into the lagoon, hopping from one little mound of earth to another. But
sometimes, what looked like solid ground would turn out to be a floating island of grass and debris. Jump on one of those, and you’d plunge right through and
end up covered with stagnant water, mud and the wrath of Mom. After a couple of such “learning experiences” I started carrying a long stick with which I
would poke the next island to make sure it was firm footing.
If only it were that simple in grown-up life! Don’t you wish there were some foolproof way to check the next step before you put your weight down?
Wouldn’t it be great if we had a poking stick to show us the solid ground in life, the reliable footing, the safe place to stand? It’s a bad feeling to put our trust
somewhere and then to feel that ground shifting beneath us.
Jesus and the disciples were in Jerusalem when Jesus began to talk to them about finding solid ground in life. The subject came up because the disciples
were so impressed by the great buildings in Jerusalem, especially the Temple. Their awe is understandable.
For many years Israel had taken its stand on the Temple. It was, to be sure, a grand structure. The smallest stones in the structure weighed two or three tons.
Many of them weighed fifty tons. The largest surviving stone is twelve yards long and three yards high, and it weighed hundreds of tons!
The stones were so immense that neither mortar nor any other binding material was used. The sheer weight of the stones held the whole structure together.
The walls towered over Jerusalem, over four hundred feet in one area. The outer walls enclosed an area of roughly forty-five acres of mountain bedrock
shaved flat. A quarter-million people could fit comfortably within the Temple of Jesus’ day. As far as I know, there’s no sports arena in America that would
even come close to that size.
The Temple looked like it would stand forever, but it wasn’t just the building on which Israel took its stand—it was what the building stood for. For
hundreds of years Israel had assumed the Temple was the holy rabbit’s foot that would protect them from danger. Six centuries before Jesus, the prophet
Jeremiah had poked fun at his people’s reliance on the Temple.
Jeremiah went to the Temple gate one day and as the people poured in he shouted, “Stop fooling yourselves! You must not trust the priests who say to
you, ‘This is the Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord.’ Thus says the Lord, ‘I had a holy house once at Shiloh and today it’s
a pile of ruins because of the people’s unfaithfulness. Don’t think you can live like robbers and then take refuge in my house and be safe. Don’t bother to
look for me in the Temple—not until you start welcoming the stranger and watching over the widow and caring for the orphan. Don’t you dare think that you
can come here lifting bloody hands in prayer and this place will keep you safe.’” (From Jeremiah 7)
Jeremiah was arrested for that sermon, and came within a hair’s breadth of losing his life. Even so, he was right. Twenty-five years later the Babylonians
broke through the gates of Jerusalem and burned down the Temple of the Lord.
By Jesus’ day the Temple had been rebuilt in even greater glory than it had enjoyed in Old Testament times. Once again Israel told itself that no matter
what else might fail, the Temple would see them through. Didn’t the Temple guarantee the presence of God? Didn’t the great altar prove that Israel was the
chosen people? Didn’t the daily sacrifices insure God’s approval?
But Jesus says to his disciples, “See these great stones? See these massive walls? This will all fall down. Not one stone will be left upon another.”
This is one of many instances when Jesus insisted that we must recognize the difference between God and the things that merely point toward God. The
temples we build, the denominational structures, the rules and regulations, the holy things we revere, our ancient traditions, our worship, our Scriptures, our
sacraments—these things are important to us because they point the way toward God, but they must never be allowed to take the place of God.
This is the simple but utterly radical message of Jesus. Many things in life are good, but God is the best. Never let the good take the place of the best. Do
not build your life upon anything but God. Many things in the world appear to be solid and firm and lasting, but do not make your stand upon anything but
God. Everything else will fall down.
Lots of folks are reading The Lord of the Rings these days. In The Hobbit there’s a wonderful scene where Bilbo Baggins has a riddle contest with Gollum.
One of the riddles goes like this:
This thing all things devours,
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stone to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down.
The answer, of course, is time. Time does indeed devour all things in this world. As Jesus continues his conversation with the disciples, he makes it clear
that not only is the Temple doomed, but so is Jerusalem. So is the world. In these verses from Mark, we are unsure when Jesus is predicting the end of
Jerusalem and when he is talking about the end of the world, but we know that someday the creation will come to its appointed end. Mountains and cities
pass away. So do nations and tribes and movements.
In a world like this, where shall we stand with confidence? Where shall we put our feet and know that we will not fall through to the cold darkness beneath?
What does Jesus say? “When the nations have ravaged each other with war, when the false gods have failed, when the trusted monuments have fallen, when
the sun goes out and the stars plummet, then look for me. I will never let you down. I will surely come. I will come for you.”
Maybe you’re suspicious of predictions of the future. So am I. Predicting the future is risky business. Back in 1943 the chairman of IBM made a
prediction. He said, “I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.”
A few years later in 1949 Popular Mechanics got starry eyed and predicted that maybe someday it might be possible to build a tiny, compact computer
weighing no more than one and a half tons.
From roughly the same period of time, here’s a quote from scientist Lee DeForest. He wrote that, “While theoretically and technically television may be
feasible, commercially and financially it is an impossibility.”
Speaking of commercial impossibilities, in 1962 Decca Recording Company turned down a new group called the Beatles. Why? A Decca executive said,
“Guitar music is on the way out.”
As I said, predictions are risky business. For instance, I am always skeptical of those folks who have read Revelation ninety-five times and want to tell me
the detailed timeline of what’s coming next. I just don’t buy it.
But when Jesus says, “I am coming again,” that’s a prediction I can believe in. When Jesus says, “I’ll be back to get you,” that’s a promise on which I am
willing to bet my life. Why? I may not know much about the future, but I know Jesus. He is the one on whom I will take my stand.
There’s a hymn I’ve always enjoyed; the refrain is, “On Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.” The words of that hymn were
written by Edward Mote, an Englishman who lived in the 1800s. In today’s terminology, I guess we’d call Mote a seeker. He grew up without religious
training. His parents owned a pub and were not Christians. In school, Mote expressed an interest in learning the Bible, but he was discouraged from pursuing
that lest the Bible put troublesome ideas in his head. At the age of 16 Mote apprenticed himself to a cabinet-maker. He’d chosen a trade and was moving on
with his life, but something was missing. He discovered what the something was when his employer invited him to church.
That changed Mote’s life. He settled in a small town, worked as a cabinet-maker, and led the drive to raise a church building in the village. Because of his
dedication, when the building was completed the villagers asked if Mote would fill the pulpit. He preached there for over twenty years. Along the way he
wrote the hymn I mentioned: “His oath, His covenant, His blood support me in the whelming flood; when all around my soul gives way, He then is all my
hope and stay.”
Poor health forced Mote to retire from the pulpit a few months before his death. His words on that occasion are a wonderful expression of our Christian hope
and the solid ground on which we stand. “The truths I have been preaching I am now living upon, and they do very well to die upon.”
Life can be a swampy, slippery mess at times, but Christ is our solid Rock, the Rock that will not sink from our weight and will not crumble with time, the
Rock on which we can safely stand to the end—and beyond the end!
Soli Deo Gloria!