When Things Fall Apart, and a Capital Campaign - Mark 13:1-8

As our capital campaign consultants at The Vandersall Collective would say, Jesus has gone off script this morning. We at Christ Church are excited about the strategic renovations ahead and needed infrastructure work to take good care of our beautiful church. As we raise money to do that, it would have been helpful to have a different text to preach on than what we just heard. For example, Jesus telling the rich young man to give away his money would be useful. Or any of the parables in which God comes off as outrageously generous, freely giving away grace. I also could have used Jesus telling us to be like the birds of the air or the lilies of the field, a reminder not to be overly anxious about things like parish budgets, because God has given us all that we need. Of course, the mustard seed would have been good, too, promising that the smallest offering can grow into something wonderful in the Kingdom of God. There’s a lot of good material in the Gospels for parish fundraising.

But not today. Instead, we get what scholars call the mini-apocalypse in the 13th chapter of Mark, and it’s rough. It starts with the disciples having a bit of a touristy moment, marveling at the magnificence of the Temple in Jerusalem - what large stones, Jesus! I bet it’s the same feeling that many of us have when we enter this space. Jesus basically shrugs and says, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” And then his predictions get worse - there will be false prophets, wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes and famines, some pretty specific divisions in families a few verses down, persecutions, the sun going dark and stars falling from the sky, and more. Everything - from the Temple to the world as we know it - will fall apart. What a terrifying message. It’s also not very conducive to a pledge drive. We’re trying to keep stone upon stone around here.

Whenever an apocalyptic message gets dropped on unsuspecting 1st century disciples or 21st century Episcopalians, some explanation is in order. It’s helpful to know that Mark’s gospel was written during or shortly after the destruction of the magnificent Temple in Jerusalem, so Mark’s community was trying to make sense of actual cataclysmic events. As to the other predictions, the disciples wanted to know when those are going to happen. When we hear this passage, we wonder that, too.

The good news is that biblical apocalypses offer much more than predictions. This kind of literature was quite common, and it offered a kind of consolation, even excitement about a new future. These writings tried to make sense of awful current events by casting them in a larger, cosmic framework, where good and evil are fighting it out, in order to give hope to the people who were suffering (David Lose). Here’s how it works: things look bad now, like everything is falling apart, but God will prevail and a new day will come.

A close look at the scene is also helpful for our understanding. Jesus had entered Jerusalem a few days earlier, and immediately had confrontations with the religious authorities. They tried to trap him, discredit him, even plot his death. Jesus was denouncing his opponents, sometimes quite openly. Tensions were building, to say the least (David Lose).

And right before today’s passage, Jesus watched a widow put her only two copper coins into the Temple treasury. He could see the “widow’s mite” for what it was - a humble and complete offering of her sacrificial devotion to God. It was a tiny sum by worldly standards, but a sacrifice worth more than any of the other pledge cards. And like the widow, as a result of all that growing tension, Jesus would soon make his own sacrifice - a complete self-offering on the cross, revealing the depth of his love. It is between these two sacrifices that we hear Jesus’ apocalyptic words. Mark makes it clear that sacrificial love bookends the mini-apocalypse.

Historic specifics aside, Jesus has, of course, named a reality that we all know. Things do fall apart. As we accumulate enough losses, see enough disasters, and watch tensions explode more often than not, Jesus’ dire predictions read like the daily news. His words are more of a description than a prediction. And in the midst of things falling apart, Jesus reminds us that there is a holy way through it, which is the way of sacrificial love. It’s the way of the widow’s offering. It’s the way of the cross. That kind of sacrificial love has the power to save us all. That love is what we learn to do when we come to church. That love is the purpose of this place while stone is still upon stone.

I think that’ll preach for stewardship season and a capital campaign. This community is patterned on Christ’s sacrificial love, and we want to grow in that love, offering it to all  who have not yet received it. I also wonder if the mini-apocalypse in Mark can bring some comfort and hope to all of us in these divided times. Today’s news events may be current, but not new, at least not from Jesus' perspective. And like those 1st century disciples, he’s calling us to love one another through it all.

Our capital campaign kick-off party was two days after the election, which, in some ways, was very strange timing for a party. Some in our community were devastated by the results of the election, and others relieved. After such a big and divisive news cycle, it felt instinctual to gather as Christ Church that night, to be together. And it felt hopeful to focus on the future into which Jesus is calling Christ Church. Whatever is going on in earthly empires, we continue to be called into the body of Christ, to pattern our lives on his sacrificial love, and to offer that love to all. The call for disciples is always the same, which is hopeful and exciting. As Jesus told the disciples outside the Temple, and as he tells us today in true apocalyptic style, everything falls apart. Which is also, always the beginning of something new.