Jesus is standing in front of the temple in Jerusalem, the massive gleaming brick and stone and gold house of God and he says, "Destroy this temple and I’ll rebuild it in three days." The people listening to him said "how are you going to do that? It took 46 years to build this temple!" But he wasn’t talking about that temple, he’s talking about himself. He essentially says, "listen, I’m going to be killed." That’s where this is headed, because you don’t confront corrupt systems of power without paying for it, sometimes with your own blood. And so he’s headed to his execution.
If you had witnessed this divine life extinguished on a cross, how would you not be overwhelmed with despair? Is the world ultimately a cold, hard, dead place? Does death have the last word? Is it truly, honestly, actually dark, and so whatever light we do see, whatever good we do stumble upon, are those just blips on the radar? Momentary interruptions in an otherwise meaningless existence? Because if that’s the case, then despair is the only reasonable response.
It's easy to be cynical, but Jesus says destroy this temple and I’ll rebuild it. He insists that his execution would not be the end. He’s talking about something new and unexpected happening after his death. He’s talking about resurrection.
Resurrection announces that God has not given up on the world, because this world matters. This world that we call home--dirt and blood and sweat and skin and light and water. This world that God is redeeming and restoring and renewing. Greed and violence and abuse...they are not right and they cannot last. They belong to death and death does not belong.
Resurrection says that what we do with our lives matters. In this body, the one that we inhabit right now, every act of compassion matters. Every work of art that celebrates the good and the true matters, every fair and honest act of business and trade, every kind word. They all belong and they will all go on in God’s good world. Nothing will be forgotten, nothing will be wasted. It all has it’s place
Everybody believes something, everybody believes somebody. Jesus invites us to trust resurrection, that every glimmer of good, every hint of hope, every impulse that elevates the soul is a sign, a taste, a glimpse of how things actually are and how things will ultimately be. Resurrection affirms this life and the next as a seamless reality, embraced, graced, and saved by God.
There is an unexpected mysterious presence who meets each of us in our lowest moments, when we have no strength and when we have nothing left. When we can’t go on we hear the voice that speaks those words, "Destroy this temple and I’ll rebuild it."
Do you believe this? That’s the question Jesus asked then, and that’s the question he asks now.
Jesus’ friends arrive at his tomb and they’re told "he isn’t here". You didn’t see that coming, did you? "He’s isn’t here, there is nothing to fear, and nothing can ever be the same again." We are living in a world in the midst of rescue, with endless unexpected possibilities.
"They will take my life and I will die," Jesus says, "but that will not be the end." And when you find yourself assuming that it’s over, when it’s lost, gone, broken and it could never be put back together again, when it’s been destroyed and you swear that it could never be rebuilt, hold on a minute. Because in that moment, things will in fact have just begun.
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I watched this clip this evening, and God knows how much I needed it. I listened a few times, and realized how much more I would get out of it by reading it, so I decided to type it out as I listened. Then, after typing for about half an hour, I tried searching for the transcript, and realized that I could've saved time and just posted that. But I got so much out of this transcript, it was definitely worth it.
