“The Beginning Of Birth Pains”
Once upon a time there was a woman married to an annoying man. He would complain about everything. One day he went to the creek with his mule. He complained so much that the mule got annoyed and kicked him to death. At the funeral, when all the men walked by the wife shook her head yes and every time a woman walked by, she shook her head no.
The minister asked, “Why are you shaking your head yes for men and no for women?” Her response was, “The men were saying how sorry they felt for her, and I was saying, ‘I’ll be alright.’ When the women walked by, they were asking if the mule was for sale…”
Mark 13:1-8
It was about this time of year in 1976 that after a couple of years away from home on the road I heard that a guy who was stabled at our local county fairgrounds was looking for some help, so I decided to move home. I figured it would give me a chance to reconnect with some of my homies who were still around town, and I could live at home and save up some money to get a nicer vehicle. I was still driving the old family car that my dad sold me, a 1967 Ford Fair Lane Station Wagon—not what you might call a chick mobile (more like a land yacht)—but it saved me a few nights when I needed a place to sleep.
A couple of weeks after I moved home my new boss came up to me and said, “I’m sending those two horses you’re looking after to New York to our other stable and I need you to go with them.” Not what I originally had in mind—first of all I wouldn’t be living at home—and second of all—I would be forced to celebrate my first Christmas away from home and in a strange place where I didn’t know a soul. But hey, it was New York, New York, the town so nice they named it twice. It would be an adventure!
So, I left my car (the chick mobile) at my parent’s house and loaded my horses and myself into one of those big semi horse vans you may have seen on the Interstate and away I went on my adventure. We traveled at night and when we stopped once for the drivers to switch, I was invited to ride up front in the cab. We hit the suburbs of New York City just as the sun was coming up and the driver said to me, “Have you ever been to New York City?” When I said no, he said, “Well, you’re in for a treat.” Rush hour traffic in New York City—this pie-eyed country bumpkin had never seen so much traffic and sitting up high in the cab of that truck made it even more interesting.
And then, with the sun on the horizon we crossed the George Washington Bridge and there it was—Manhattan—the Empire State Building—The World Trade Center—rows and rows of skyscrapers—and then rows and rows of houses that looked as though you could touch your neighbor’s house by sticking your arm out the window. I had never seen such a sight. It was awesome—but it was intimidating at the same time!
One would assume that the disciples in our text this morning had been to Jerusalem before—after all, every good Jew was required to go for the big religious celebrations. And I know that they would have been there at least three times because Jesus was there three times during His ministry, and they would have accompanied Him. But I bet their reaction to walking into the city was the same every time as my reaction that first time I rode into New York City.
Last week Jesus was asking His disciples to LOOK at the poor widow who put the two small coins in the temple treasury. Jesus was thinking about spiritual matters—about the giving of ourselves to God—not just a little but all we have. Today the disciples are asking Jesus to LOOK at the magnificent buildings. They were thinking of the things of the flesh. The disciples were thinking like tourists.
Could you imagine if they had cameras back then? You can almost picture them mugging for the camera in front of the temple. Or what if they had cell phones and taking selfies or photo bombing those who were. Could you imagine Jesus photo bombing the disciples?
When they were in Jerusalem the disciples probably didn’t want to look like simple fishermen from Galilee but let’s face it: you just don’t see things like that back on the farm—so to speak. And who could blame them—Jerusalem and the Temple were a magnificent sight to behold.
About 15 years before Jesus was born Herod the Great began to remodel and rebuild the temple, which had stood for nearly 500 years, since the days of Ezra (Ezra 6:14-15). Herod made the temple one of the most beautiful buildings in Jerusalem—not to honor God, but to appease the Jews whom he ruled. Some of the stones used for construction were 37 feet long—12 feet high—and 18 feet thick. The smallest of the stones used weighed 2 to 3 tons. Many of them weighed 50 tons. Some of those stones can still be seen at the old Wailing Wall, which formed part of the West Wall of the Temple Area. The magnificent building project was not completely finished until 64 AD.
The stones were so immense that neither mortar nor any other building material was used between the stones. Their stability was attained by the great weight of the stones. Makes you wonder how in the world they were able to construct such a massive structure back then.
The walls of the Temple towered over Jerusalem over 400 feet in one area. Inside the walls was 45 acres of Bedrock Mountain shaved flat and during Jesus’ day a quarter of a million people could fit comfortably within the structure.
It was made of pure white marble and parts of it were covered in plates of solid gold. When the sun hit the gold and white structure, it often gleamed so brilliantly that onlookers had to shield their eyes from the glare—like my experience of the sun coming up over Manhattan.
Jerusalem and the Temple were the center of Jewish life. More than anything else in their land they gave the Jewish people a sense of identity—but Jesus was more concerned with the quality of life rather than the quantity of material.
Listen to Jesus’ response to the disciple’s glee over the large stones and buildings from the Message Bible: “You’re impressed by this grandiose architecture? There’s not a stone in the whole works that is not going to end up in a heap of rubble.”
Jesus has weighed the Temple as an institution on ethical and religious balances and found it wanting. Because the institution failed to serve men in their spiritual needs—it would not last.
This 13th chapter of the Gospel of Mark is one of the hardest to understand in the entire Bible. The story we have for our text this morning is recorded in all three of the Synoptics (Matthew-Mark-Luke) and is referred to as “The Olivet Discourse” since it is uttered on the Mount of Olives. Some scholars call it “The Little Apocalypse.” That word, “apocalypse” is Greek for “revelation”—which leads me to our $65,000 word for today: Eschatology.
Eschatology—or the study of “Last things” played an important role in the teaching of Jesus—though not the dominant one as some have claimed. It is altogether fitting that this new emphasis should come just before the Crucifixion, for that event was fraught with great eschatological significance. The “last days” had already begun.
Which brings us to the difficulty of understanding this text not only for ourselves, but the disciples were confused with Jesus’ teaching as well!
For centuries there have been several theories as to when and how the world might end and obviously, they have all been wrong!
Jesus wasn’t teaching the disciples about the end of times but the end of times as they knew them. He was teaching or prophesying an event that would take place in their time—70 A.D. to be precise—when the Romans would burn Jerusalem down to end a war that had begun four years earlier—and the “Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down” would become reality.
But notice what else He is saying to the disciples and to us gathered here this morning. “Watch out that no one deceives you. Many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am he,’ and will deceive many. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains.”
I have found myself several times during my ministry saying the words, “Don’t panic,” to people sitting across from me at my desk—or sitting in a pew—or kneeling at an altar—or at a doctor’s office or the hospital—or even sharing a cup of coffee in a restaurant. They come to me in the middle of what they feel is a crisis. Maybe they’ve lost their job—have found out their spouse is cheating on them—a problem with a child—or have found themselves in the middle of a financial crisis. They are anxious—their world seems to be caving in around them—they feel lonely and afraid. They see no viable exit out of their situation—whatever it may be.
When my dad was first diagnosed with cancer both he and my mom were in panic mode, along with my sisters. The main problem being that my dad had never been sick—he didn’t know how to be sick and have to rely on people even though he had been there for others to rely on—and my mom didn’t know how to handle him being sick. I was listening to a sermon by my friend Mike McAfee around that time and he said this: “Don’t panic—stay the course—God is still in control.” Well, I shared this with my mom and on one of my trips up there for a surgery I found cards all over the house with that written on them: Don’t panic—stay the course—God is in control! One of those cards is still in a very visible place in what was once Mom’s office. I saw a quote on social media a few years ago that went like this: “Don’t put a period where God puts a comma.”
I think, and this is just me thinking out loud, but I believe that’s what Jesus is telling His disciples and us in our scripture for today. We don’t need to panic or run through life as to miss some important events. We don’t need to end something prematurely where God just want us to pause and take a breath.
What Jesus wanted the disciples to know, and He wants us to remember is this: “These are just the beginning of birth pains.”
Don’t panic—stay the course—God is in control!
Thanks be to God!
Eastman First Methodist Church 