Tag Archives: Temple

Christ was born for this! (First Sunday after Christmas, 12/28/2025)

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Readings

[Call and response:] Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

This year that line from the carol we just sang got my attention: “Christ was born for this!” What happens if we put that together with today’s readings?

In our first reading, it sounds like there are two voices There’s the “I” we meet midway through the reading: “For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent.” That sounds like a prophet, who begins to speak to Jerusalem. The “I” in the first lines? That sounds like Jerusalem personified, celebrating her coming vindication or salvation, so certain that it’s put in the past tense: “he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, / he has covered me with the robe of righteousness.”

Why should we gentiles care about that? Recall Isaiah’s vision that we heard a few weeks ago on the first Sunday of Advent:

In days to come
the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
and shall be raised above the hills;
all the nations shall stream to it.
Many peoples shall come and say,
‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.’

That’s the Old Testament’s primary vision of how those words to Abraham “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen 12:3) are fulfilled. Not by military conquest, but by attraction. Israel’s trust in the Lord nurtures a national life that is so attractive that all the nations want in on it.

Things, obviously, didn’t play out that way, so today’s text from Isaiah looks to the Lord getting that project back on track. We hear the same hope at the beginning of today’s psalm: “The Lord rebuilds Jerusalem; / he gathers the exiles of Israel.” And we heard it in Mary’s song on the third Sunday of Advent:

He has come to the help of his servant Israel,
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever. (Lk 1:54-55)

“Christ was born for this!” And so, some years later, Jesus enters Jerusalem with the crowds shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (Mat 21:9) It’s almost within reach: all the Jewish leaders and Pilate have to say is “OK, Jesus, we’ll do it your way” and it’s Isaiah’s vision on steroids.

As we recall every Holy Week, it doesn’t play out that way, and God says, in effect, “OK, this is going to take longer.” So what we encounter in today’s Epistle and Gospel is a focus on adoption. Galatians: “so that we might receive adoption as children.” John: “But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.”

Daughters and sons of God! In the context of today’s readings, that suggests attention to Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John: “Very truly, I tell you, the Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the Son does likewise” (5:19). Those words to Abraham, “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed:” that’s the family project. As daughters and sons, our project.

The same theme shows up in Matthew’s Gospel: “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous” (5:44-45).

It’s not that God has given up on the Jews. As Paul reminds us “the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable” (Rom 11:29). But these congregations of Jewish and Gentile believers in all the world—even in Wisconsin—each can be a temple, a place where trust in the Lord nurtures a communal life that is so attractive that all the neighbors want in on it. As Paul puts it, “so that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places” (Eph 3:10).

Isaiah’s vision: it’s been tweaked in unexpected ways. The “mountain of the Lord’s house” is distributed across the globe, also at 6205 University Avenue. But it’s still the endgame:

‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.’

And for that, as Paul celebrates, “God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’” Repairing the world (tikkun olam, as the Jews put it): it’s the family business. “Christ was born for this! Christ was born for this!”

[Call and response:] Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

Songs for Pilgrims (20th Sunday after Pentecost, 10/26/2025)

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Readings (Track 2)

Today’s readings include Psalm 84. Since it’s perhaps not one of the more familiar psalms, let’s ease into it by recalling Psalm 23 (BCP 612):

1 The Lord is my shepherd; *
I shall not be in want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures *
and leads me beside still waters.
3 He revives my soul *
and guides me along right pathways for his Name’s sake.
4 Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I shall fear no evil; *
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5 You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; *
you have anointed my head with oil,
and my cup is running over.
6 Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, *
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Psalm 23 is often described as a psalm of trust, of pilgrimage. The goal’s at the end: “the house of the Lord;” the psalm describes the pilgrimage, the Lord’s reliable shepherding. There are dark moments (“the shadow of death,” “those who trouble me”), but these do not get the last word.

Now, Psalm 84:

1 How dear to me is your dwelling, O Lord of hosts! *
My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.
2 The sparrow has found her a house
and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young; *
by the side of your altars, O Lord of hosts,
my King and my God.
3 Happy are they who dwell in your house! *
they will always be praising you.
4 Happy are the people whose strength is in you! *
whose hearts are set on the pilgrims’ way.
5 Those who go through the desolate valley will find it a place of springs, *
for the early rains have covered it with pools of water.
6 They will climb from height to height, *
and the God of gods will reveal himself in Zion.
7 Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; *
hearken, O God of Jacob.
8 Behold our defender, O God; *
and look upon the face of your Anointed.
9 For one day in your courts is better
than a thousand in my own room, *
and to stand at the threshold of the house of my God
than to dwell in the tents of the wicked.
10 For the Lord God is both sun and shield; *
he will give grace and glory;
11 No good thing will the Lord withhold *
from those who walk with integrity.
12 O Lord of hosts, *
happy are they who put their trust in you!

It’s not hard to recognize Psalm 84 as another psalm of trust, of pilgrimage. Here the goal (“your dwelling”) is at the start (vv.1-3); the rest of the psalm is mostly a description of the pilgrimage. Again, no lack of potentially dark moments (“the desolate valley,” plenty of heights to climb), but these do not get the last word.

There are differences. Psalm 23 so focuses on the shepherding that the “I” sounds pretty passive. Psalm 84 pays more attention to the Lord’s empowerment during the pilgrimage (“whose strength is in you,” “they will climb”). And the speakers are more obviously making choices: better “to stand at the threshold of the house of my God / than to dwell in the tents of the wicked.” And notice Psalm 84’s repeated “happy”:

3a Happy are they who dwell in your house!
4a Happy are the people whose strength is in you!
12b happy are they who put their trust in you.

In passing, while ‘happy’ isn’t a bad translation, the problem is that English doesn’t have a word that matches the Hebrew ´ašrê. It’s ‘happy’ in the sense of well-positioned. Happy is the one whose house is built on rock. The Common English Bible offers “truly happy.”

One commentator writes “Enthusiastic joy in YHWH, the theme developed in the first strophe of our psalm (vv.2-5), and unshakable trust in him, the essential statement of the third strophe (vv.9-13), are the two basic attitudes on the basis of which human paths succeed, because they kindle in the human person an inner strength that empowers to withstand obstacles and overcome them” (Zenger in Psalms 2, 358; verse numbers reflect Hebrew text).

How might we hear this psalm today? Two suggestions. First, to talk of joy and trust is not to go full Pollyanna. The psalm’s well aware of the desolate valleys, the heights that look unclimbable. We daily make choices about what we focus on, what we dwell on, that nurture or not our capacity for joy and trust. What’s the first app I open in the morning, the last before calling it a night? There’s a reason our Book of Common Prayer starts with the daily offices (and bless the folk that created the apps that save us the constant turning of pages!).

That said, joy and trust work differently. Trust is anchored in who we are as a people. Jews trust the God who brought them out of Egypt. So the big annual celebration is Passover, and, no longer being under Pharaoh, the Sabbath means working six days a week, not seven. Christians trust that same God who raised Jesus from the dead. So we gather every Sunday to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection, and remember that whatever the situation, God bats last.

Joy is more complicated. Paul: “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4), but joy’s not evident in long stretches of his letters. The largest group of psalms in the Psalter: they want joy, they look forward to joy, but at the moment: Help! After all, were joy more often in the present, we’d talk less about trust.

Second, after all the talk in our psalms about the temple, since the Romans destroyed the temple in ad 70, where does that leave us? From our brothers Peter and Paul:

Peter: “Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 2:4-5)

Paul:“In [Christ Jesus] the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God. (Eph. 2:21-22)

No need for a single temple in Jerusalem when there are parishes (temples!) scattered around the world, even in Beaver Dam. So we should expect to experience something of the pilgrim’s joy described in Psalm 84 as we come together here? That seems to be the idea, despite the fact that as we and the apostles know (recall Paul’s letters to the Corinthians!) parishes can generate great pain as well as great joy.

The potential for good and evil in every parish is one of the reasons our Eucharistic Prayers ask our God for not one, but two transformations. From Prayer A:

“Sanctify them [the bread and wine] by your Holy Spirit to be for your people the Body and Blood of your Son…
Sanctify us also that we may faithfully receive this holy Sacrament, and serve you in unity, constancy, and peace…”

Being the temple implies no less!

And this is perhaps the appropriate moment to notice today’s Gospel. Jesus is working multiple agendas: how to pray, what attitudes make entry into God’s kingdom easier or harder, and also—with Psalm 84 ringing in the ears—what behaviors are appropriate or not in the temple.

We’re social animals. And in this culture, as in many others, the default is to sort out the pecking order, no matter where we are. The Pharisee’s prayer is a classic example of that sorting out. But the problem isn’t just some Pharisees; Jesus’ own followers are just as capable of the same behavior. There’s not much distance between “God, I thank you that I am not like other people” and what Paul was hearing in Corinth: “’I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ or ‘I belong to Christ’” (1 Cor. 1:12).

What of the tax collector’s “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”? That’s an essential part of our liturgy. The pause between the invitation to the general confession and the confession itself is for us to remember, individually and collectively, that we’re dealing with more than words on a page. The Eucharistic Prayer (and remember, ‘Eucharist’ is simply the transliteration of the Greek word for ‘thanksgiving’) is our thanksgiving for God’s mercy to us sinners. But the point is not to stay there, but to enter more deeply into the joy and trust of Psalm 84.

What is life? Not just one darn thing after another, but a pilgrimage to the living God. With David: “You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Ps. 16:11).

What’s the temple that God wants? (9th after Pentecost, 7/21/2024)

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The Readings (Track 1)

We’re going to give the lion’s share of attention to the Ephesians reading, but, first, a bit of muddling around in the other readings.

Tour guides often have pages like “If you have only one day in New York…” Any equivalent guide to the Old Testament would include our first reading. God’s promise to David of an eternal house (dynasty) is the basis for all the hopes for a coming son of David. It’s the reason ‘Messiah’/’Christ’ (the anointed one) is such a key title. It starts here with Nathan’s words to David.

One element worth noticing in Nathan’s words is the repeated reference to houses of cedar (houses at the high end of the market): “See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.” “…did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’” There is probably some exasperation in God’s response: I don’t need a house of cedar; why do you think you need a house of cedar? Why this question? Consider, a few centuries later, Jeremiah’s words (22:15) to the current Davidic king: “Are you a king because you compete in cedar?” This is the sort of question God directs to many of us from time to time: “Tom, why do you think you need…?” The Book of Proverbs nails it:

7 Two things I ask of you;
do not deny them to me before I die:
8 Remove far from me falsehood and lying;
give me neither poverty nor riches;
feed me with the food that I need,
9 or I shall be full, and deny you,
and say, “Who is the LORD?”
or I shall be poor, and steal,
and profane the name of my God. (30:7-9)

So Paul, in the other Testament: “for I have learned to be content with whatever I have” (Phil 4:11). That’s a hard sell in this culture, but probably necessary for our sanity and sanctity.

The Gospel. The omitted verses (vv.35-52) mostly narrate the feeding of the five thousand. The lectionary omits these because in the next five weeks we’ll be hearing John’s narrative. That’s fair, but misses Mark’s mischievous juxtaposition of the two feasts: Herod’s, in which John the Baptist loses his head, and Jesus’, in which five thousand are fed. Mark’s suggesting, I think, that we need to choose which feast we end up at, a choice not unrelated to our ability to say “enough.”

In our first reading house as temple and house as dynasty contrast: David won’t build God a house (temple); God will build David a house (dynasty). But as Ephesians makes clear, God’s option for the dynasty gets God the temple God really wanted: “In him [David’s son, the Messiah] the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.”

“You also.” Throughout the chapter Paul’s focused on the Jew/Gentile division, now abolished through the generous and costly work of the Messiah. In this vision the Jews don’t stop being Jews; the Gentiles don’t stop being Gentiles. But in Jesus these differences no longer divide, no longer fuel enmity. And Jew/Gentile is paradigmatic for the many divisions in our world.

“Built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.” Our building projects usually seek homogeneity. It’s simpler that way. “Birds of a feather…” But that’s not Paul’s vision: Jews and Gentiles, male and female, slave and free. One commentator, Marcus Barth, puts it this way: “There is no ideal of a Christian personality applicable to all church members alike, but there are men, women, children who because of their diverse origins, pasts, privileges, hopes, or despairs are by nature inclined to hate one another and God (Rom 5:6-10). Now they are enabled by the work and rule of Christ to contribute in common repentance and common faith their various idiosyncrasies, histories, experiences, and gifts to the peaceful common life of God’s people” (Ephesians 1-3, 311).

“Built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.” That word ‘spiritually’ can trip us up. It’s not a synonym for ‘immaterial’. Barth again: “The people of God who are built together and become God’s house—the church—are as material, temporal, spatial, and concrete as sticks and stones” (Ephesians 1-3, 320).

“Spiritually,” because only the transformative power of the Holy Spirit can give this mad project any chance of success. At the beginning when all was waste and void, darkness on the face of the deep, God sent the Spirit. And today the Spirit continues to assist in the heavy lifting.

“Assist.” I use that word cautiously. It’s not as though the Spirit does 50% and we do 50%. It’s that we really need to want this project to succeed, to put our backs into it. Building cross-culturally is hard work. But, recalling the original cross-cultural challenge, men being from Mars and women from Venus, oh the pay-off!

The temple, the meeting point of heaven and earth. God is happy for that to be at the corner of Nelson Drive & Highway 83; God has no interest in it being only there. The vision is that the temple, the meeting point of heaven and earth, be everywhere we are 24/7, so that there is no place that the glory, mercy, love of God is not visible and tangible. So that we—to pick up Paul’s language from last week’s reading—“might live for the praise of his glory.”