One of the most revered saints in the Church is St. Benedict, who was born in 480 A.D. He is known as the Father of Western Monasticism, having founded a number of monasteries and written a “manual” for all aspects of life in them. During the Dark Ages, these communities of faith both preserved and contributed to the Christian culture of all of Europe.
Benedict’s birthplace is in the village of Norcia, Italy, where toward the end of the Middle Ages, a basilica was built and named in his honor. At one time or another it has, over the centuries, either been enlarged or renovated. In order to raise money for repairs and otherwise keep it in good condition, several monks moved there in 2000 to assume responsibility for the church. To that end they “helped [to generate funds [by] build[ing] a brewing business…”[1] Where did they come from? Any guesses?…That’s right—the U.S.
Sadly, all their efforts have been in vain. Two weeks ago today, the region in which Norcia is located, suffered its third major earthquake of the year. One of the casualties was the basilica. All that’s now left of it is the façade. And even that has in it a number of cracks. After standing for more than 600 years as a testament to one of the great leaders of the Church, it is no more.
Centuries before the birth of St. Benedict, the temple in Jerusalem was destroyed—not by an act of nature, but by the hands of humans. In the generation before Jesus’ birth, King Herod had greatly enlarged and embellished it, adding a marketplace, several courts, administrative offices, and, famously, Solomon’s Porch. Among many building projects that he sponsored, the temple was his masterpiece. [2]
In 66 A.D., rebelling against Roman occupation, Jewish fighters had taken over Jerusalem, successfully defending it. However, four years later three legions of the Roman army laid siege to the city, eventually breaching its walls. The Jewish historian Josephus recorded that they then routed the patriot fighters, in the process also butchering many peaceful citizens. They burned down most of the buildings, including the temple. Josephus lamented: “This was the end [that] Jerusalem came to…a city otherwise of great magnificence, and of mighty fame….truly, the very view itself was a melancholy thing…”[3]
A generation earlier, in reply to his disciples’ admiration of the temple, Jesus simply said: “…the day will come when not one stone will be left upon another…”
In our own age, it’s no different. Catastrophes of one kind or another remind us that the
great monuments we build may not last that many years, let alone stand forever—one extreme example being the twin towers of the World Trade Center that were destroyed, testifying also to the quick, violent end that many innocent lives came to.
Jesus talked about other signs suggesting that the end times were near: not only wars, but also earthquakes, famines, and plagues. Today’s world is full of all of those. But, as in Jesus’ day, we do well to heed his words that we know not when that hour will come. In the meantime, the faithful are called to endure whatever befalls them—persecution, imprisonment, even for some death.
Obviously, our situation is so different from that of the early Church. Far from being mistreated as a small religious group in a hostile society, we Christians here in North America continue to enjoy many privileges, especially those of us having a higher level of income.
At the same time—for several decades at least—churches no longer have the influence that they once did. It’s true that some groups, such as some evangelical Christians, can still play a part in, can still have an effect on public life—as evidenced in last week’s elections. But by and large— for a long time now—the Church no longer enjoys the place it once had in society.
Actually, that’s not all bad. In becoming a sort of “minority” group of our own, we Christians no more need to be preoccupied with keeping up a reputation for groups that have much more money and other resources than we do. In other words, we can become more the persons God has intended us to be.
We can more freely be a moral conscience for the rest of society. Tied less to institutions that sometimes take advantage of “the little guy,” we can speak up more for those who have virtually no voice of their own.
Now, I do have to admit that this is something most of us raised as Lutherans have not in any form or fashion been accustomed to. In my own growing up years, it certainly wasn’t. But as a pastor, I am called to speak up for others. At my ordination—in the same church where I was baptized and confirmed—I was asked, among other things, whether I would “give faithful witness in the world, that God’s love may be known in all that [I would] do?”
And, along with my responses to other questions, I answered, “I will, and I ask God to help me.”[4]
It’s the same for all those confirmed in the faith. At the time when our young people affirm their baptisms, they are asked the following question:
You have made public profession of your faith. Do you intend to continue in the covenant God made with you in Holy Baptism:
to live among God’s faithful people,
to hear his Word and share in his supper,
to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed,
to serve all people, following the example of our Lord Jesus,
and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth?
To which they answer: “I do, and I ask God to help and guide me.”[5]
As always, the important thing here is not that we love our neighbor because we have to, but because we want to—as a sign of our gratitude to God.
If anything, we are fragile, imperfect creatures—even as we are made in God’s image. The good that we do for those who are persecuted or, at best, are mistreated by the powers that be, is always tentative, always incomplete, sometimes even self-serving. To believe otherwise is to be dishonest with ourselves.
But the good that we do with and for others—especially in relationships that are face-to-face—we do in the knowledge that God will uphold us, giving us both strength and wisdom. Ultimately we practice good deeds in the hope that one day God’s kingdom will come in all its glory.
One of my favorite images in the Bible is the vision of a new holy city—as found near the end of the Book of Revelation:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God…
(21:1-2a)
Then comes a wonderful description of Jerusalem—a great, grand city made up of all kinds of jewels and precious metals. But one thing is missing, or, for a moment, seems to be. John, the seer of the vision, continues: “I saw no temple in the city…”
What? No temple? No holy dwelling place? What kind of heaven can this be? But here is what John says in full:
I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. (21:22-25)
Through this wonderful image, this is what God holds out to us. So, no matter what trial we see our neighbor struggling through, no matter what we ourselves are trying to cope with, God awaits us with a temple that will never, ever fall, that can never, ever be destroyed, because it is itself Jesus Christ, the One who is risen. Amen.
[1] “Beer-Brewing Monks of Norcia Say Earthquake Destroys St. Benedict Basilica,” F. Brinley Bruton and Claudio Lavanga, NBC News, 31 October 2016.
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Temple.
[3] Flavius Josephus. The Wars of the Jews or History of the Destruction of Jerusalem. Containing the Interval of about Three Years. From the Taking of Jerusalem by Titus to the Sedition at Cyrene. Books VI and VII, Chapters 1.1.
[4] Occasional Services: A Companion to Lutheran Book of Worship (Copyright: Association of Evangelical Lutheran Churches, Lutheran Church in America, American Lutheran Church, and Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada, 1982): 194.
[5] Lutheran Book of Worship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House; and Philadelphia: Board of Publication, Lutheran Church in America, 1978): 201.