Mark 13:1-8
The eschatological dimensions of November’s lectionary texts kick into high gear this week, and preachers may do well to warn their congregations to buckle up. Even though these texts can be foreboding, there is Good News in all of them, and it is the preacher’s task to preach Jesus through them and above them.
In the Markan narrative, the eschatological discourse in chapter 13 is the only time (in preparation for the passion) that Jesus enters Jerusalem. It makes sense, then, that the disciples are awestruck by the Temple, a monumental building project (and propaganda exercise) begun by Herod the Great. Archeologists note that the stones of the Temple were cut with such precision that, even now, it is difficult to slide a piece of paper between them, and when one considers the technological capabilities of the first century, the engineering of the Temple complex is that much more impressive. This aspect of the Temple – that it exists for both ritual purposes and Herodian propaganda – might provide an interesting door for preachers and congregations to enter.
Herod the Great’s building projects are legendary, and though the Temple is the one with which we are most familiar, others are just as (if not more so) impressive in their engineering expertise, particularly the harbor he built at Caesarea Maritima (the underwater break-wall, specifically). Herod was adept at playing both sides of the public relations game: on the one hand building huge edifices to mitigate Jewish suspicions about his origin (the Temple), while at the same time building grand venues for commerce and political sycophancy to placate the Romans. Herod – a megalomaniac not very different from modern ones promising to “make things great again” – had been on the wrong side of the Roman Civil War between Octavian (Augustus) and Marc Anthony. Penitential slithering to a victorious Octavian allowed him (miraculously) to keep his position, and Herod spent the rest of his life demonstrating his loyalty to Rome (and, more specifically, Octavian personally). By the time of Jesus’ public ministry (and this episode from Mark), Herod was long dead, but the Temple’s dual purpose as a symbol of the Herodian dynasty remained, even though Judea had been turned over to direct rule by Roman governors. Lutheran pastors do well to take some intentional time to study the history of Rome, a topic that is - generally - not addressed with any seriousness in our seminaries. Understanding the Herodian melodrama is impossible without at least general knowledge of the Roman civil war that called it into being.
And while Roman internal politics mattered much for those well-heeled, for the vast majority of Judean Jews, much more concerning was the fact that the Herodian dynasty wasn’t historically Jewish, instead finding its origins in modern-day Jordan and Edom (south of the Jewish territory of Judea). The Herodians had converted to Judaism, raising legitimate doubts about Herod the Great’s claim to be “King of the Jews” or the legitimate succession of his sons. At the time of Mark’s writing, Herod Antipas (20BC-39AD) ruled as tetrarch in Galilee and Perea. His half-brother Herod Archelaus was removed as ethnarch of Judea by the Romans in 6 AD, and yet another half-brother (Herod Philip) ruled other nearby regions. Keeping all these Herods straight is confusing, admittedly. But given today’s reading from Mark, it remains up for debate if anyone was convinced by the family’s public attempts at legitimacy, even decades after their public relations campaign had begun.
This means that the Temple was not only the center of Jewish liturgical life (this itself is arguable as Pharisaic Judaism began to develop…) but also a propaganda project. Politically savvy Jews knew this, which is possibly why the awe that is exhibited by the disciples is not shared by Jesus, who seems – generally – unimpressed with the pet project of a now-dead Herod, perhaps because he understood its very real and very cynical purpose. Sitting in the posture of a Rabbinical teacher on the Mount of Olives, Jesus has a good view of the Temple Mount today, perhaps a metaphor for his judgment of the Herodians in general. Assuming the posture of a teacher, Jesus takes on the prophetic tradition of Micah and Jeremiah, both of whom prophesy the destruction of the first Temple. Like that one – and all set pieces of political propaganda, both then and now – this one will eventually fall.
"...Jesus takes on the prophetic tradition of Micah and Jeremiah, both of whom prophesy the destruction of the first Temple. Like that one – and all set pieces of political propaganda, both then and now – this one will eventually fall."
In this regard, Jesus is not ultimately interested in the Temple as an architectural symbol per se. The locus of worship will, after all, be centered in himself in the new age, not in the Temple. What Jesus is much more concerned with is the way that religion gets used as a tool (ala Herod and his sons). The double-entendre of the Temple itself is the sin: that the purposes of God are twisted to serve political ends for earthly rulers who have their own selfish ambitions, willing to use religion as a foil for expedient ends.
On the Sunday that you preach this text, the United States will have just come through (yet another) stressful election cycle. Regardless of the outcome, the rise of Christian Nationalism is cause for alarm, and preachers might use this opportunity – "Temple as propaganda" – to tackle this head-on. Modern Herods still want to use the Temple for their own ends, and while the exhibition of this has been on display most dangerously from the American religious right, the proclivity to do the same exists in the left as well. Everyone wants God to work for them, to prove their point, to validate their held opinions and sensibilities and yes, their political positions. It is dangerous in the evangelical right and it is dangerous in the Christian left. The sin is tempting to both.
The law: we want to use the Temple, like Herod, for our own purposes. The Gospel: Jesus himself becomes the location of God’s activity, available to all. The turn of geopolitical events (“...wars and rumors of wars...”) is, sadly, exceptionally relevant, especially close to the Mount of Olives from which Jesus is speaking today. Jesus’ judgment isn’t just on Herod or the Temple; it is on us. Jesus’ redemption of today’s sinful self-interest is to make the Temple into himself, unable to be controlled or propagandized by fickle human beings. Jesus will always wiggle out of these strictures, escaping from anyone – anyone! – who would try to contain him for their own purposes. By doing so, he saves even those who seek power for themselves: us.
THE REV. DR. PATRICK H. SHEBECK is the Senior Pastor at St. Paul-Reformation Lutheran Church in St. Paul, Minnesota. He graduated from St. Olaf College with degrees in Liturgics and History, and received his MDiv. at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago (LSTC), doing additional work at Trinity Seminary, Columbus Ohio, and Cambridge University in England. Pastor Shebeck holds the Doctor of Ministry in Liturgical Theology from the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago where he studied under Ed Foley. Pr. Shebeck is a Fellow of the Collegeville Institute at St. John's University, and also a fellow of the John Templeton Foundation's project on Science and Homiletics; he also serves on the Board of Directors of the ELCA Deaconess Community and the Board of Trustees of the Seminar on Lutheran Liturgy.
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