Trinity 10

***This sermon was preached on my last Sunday at Immanuel Lutheran Church in Alexandria, VA. I will be in a period of transition as I move to Tomah, WI, and begin serving the saints of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church.***

Text: Luke 19:41-48

+INJ+

In September of 1989, the American musician Billy Joel released the song “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” I remember listening to the song with my older siblings over and over and over again. The quick pace and rhythm were captivating to a 7-year-old. But I’ll be honest, I didn't really understand what the song was about; I just got caught up in the rhythm and beat.

As I’ve now gotten older, I find myself listening to music with a little more intent, and I believe the story of how this song came about is relatable to many of us today.

You see, Billy Joel was in the recording studio when his friend Sean Lennon (son of John Lennon) said, “It’s a terrible time to be 21!” Billy Joel replied: “Yeah, I remember when I was 21 – I thought it was an awful time, and we had Vietnam, and y'know, drug problems, and civil rights problems and everything seemed to be awful.”

Sean replied: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, but it’s different for you. You were a kid in the fifties and everybody knows that nothing happened in the fifties.” Billy Joel retorted: “Wait a minute, didn’t you hear of the Korean War or the Suez Canal Crisis?” Billy Joel later said those headlines formed the basic framework for the song [We Didn’t Start the Fire].

How often do you look around and romanticize over the past? How often do you become conditioned to the world around you? The destruction and evil? How often do you sing with Billy Joel regarding the circumstances and events of your life, “I didn’t start the fire!”

But you did.

You are a child of Adam and Eve, which means you inherited the seed of their sin. Like Cain and Abel, their first children, you war against one another, continuing the flames of destruction that burn within your heart since the creation of man and your first parents’ fall and expulsion from the Garden.

Therefore, the world’s history is your story.

This is also why the account of Jerusalem’s physical destruction by the historian Josephus in AD 70 should still grieve us today. The Roman general Titus laid siege on the city as foretold by Jesus in today’s Gospel.

While the siege was ongoing, the inhabitants were driven to hunger and despair. As the masses were dying, best friends and families came to war with one another over pieces of bread. Children are even recorded as forcefully taking food from their parents’ mouths.

Even as we have seen the costs of eggs and a gallon of milk rise and become more valuable than gold these past years, grain was the hottest commodity in Jerusalem. The desperate people who lay in the city’s rubble were not beyond eating hay, leather, or even dung.

When the city had finally been conquered, over 115,000 died of starvation, while 600,000 people died throughout the entirety of the siege (The numbers may even be higher). Because of how horrendous the events of Jerusalem’s fall were, Josephus still recorded them because he feared future generations would never believe them.

Titus, however, did desire to spare the temple as the siege went on, he saw the magnificence of the building. Yet, it was still set ablaze in the final battle, bringing it to ashes.

In the end, the place where the great city of Jerusalem once stood was no more. This is why Jesus weeps in today’s Gospel, reflecting how the kindling of God’s judgment upon the city and man’s sin began decades and centuries earlier.

Look to our reading from the prophet Jeremiah this morning; he wrote to those desiring to enter the temple;
Stand in the gate of the Lord’s house, and proclaim there this word, and say, Hear the word of the Lord, all you men of Judah who enter these gates to worship the Lord. Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Amend your ways and your deeds, and I will let you dwell in this place. Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord.’

Why does Jeremiah say, “Do not trust in these deceptive words, The temple of the LORD?” Because the temple was not seen as a place where God comes to His creation but as a location for empty rituals that lacked the fear of God, true repentance and an amending of one’s ways.

Instead, the temple was where anything goes, and the Ten Commandments were meant to be broken: sexual sins, stealing, and harm to one’s neighbor – it happened there. 

What a sad state of affairs.

All of this should also give us pause to ask, what in our surroundings and current state of affairs hinders us as we enter the gates of this sanctuary to worship the Lord?

You, too, live near and in a great and powerful city of this world. Many of you are accomplished and thoughtfully take the faith of Christ into your earthly vocations that affect not only the people you engage with daily in your offices or over Zoom and Teams meetings - but organizations, our country, and sometimes the world.

However, have you become consumed by your earthly and often political vocations that form and mold you Monday through Friday? As the Church strives to remain a refuge and harbor for the wary, have you, in fact, brought the attributes of your earthly vocations into the Church to a fault?

I’d argue that, unlike Peter Pan, we cannot escape the shadows of our daily lives. Like those Jeremiah preaches to and Jesus contends with today, is it us that bring the outside world into the Church - the political battles, the culture, and the complete destruction of the soul – it is us.

And so, Jesus weeps for us who permit the icon of this world to descend upon His Church.

Reflect on the Ten Commandments, use it as a lens, and exam how we transgress them here – maybe the gossip of our lips transcends physical conversations and pours over into the technological conversations - where we are tempted to forward email conversations we were never privileged to, or maybe there’s a temptation to step out of Scripture Study or the Divine Service to converse over the business and politics of church governance, or quite simply – the words, “I’m sorry,” just don’t flow off your lips as easy as they ought – reflecting a heart lacking true repentance and reconciliation before God and neighbor alike.

Today, Jesus weeps for you, for us.

Now, when Jesus entered the temple, it says He began to drive out those who were not there for prayer. Interestingly, the root word in Greek for Jesus, “Driving” out those who were profaning the temple, is “ekballo,” which means to cast out – another word for exorcism.

So, in reality, Jesus is calling those conducting the business of the world in His Father’s temple unclean spirits, needing expulsion.

So, what does this have to do with us?

Well, from the word exorcism, we also get “exercise.” And for the Christian, we must understand that the whole Christian faith and life is one of exercise – the act of confessing Jesus, the confession of sin, the process of having the unclean and impure thoughts and sins cast out of our hearts by Jesus Himself.

You see, we need not be caught up in the rhythm and beat of the world that pits brothers and sisters against one another, nor bring it into the Church, but instead, we must be drawn into harmony with one another through the beat and rhythm of confession and absolution.

Because this is what it means to be a Christian, to be led to humble yourself before Christ Jesus and His cross – to confess your sin and rejoice in how He casts this darkness out of you.

Sure, you didn’t start the fire, but you certainly heap the fuel and coal upon it that keeps it burning when you, as your first parents in the Garden, fail to take ownership for the trespasses of your hearts and lips, saying, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Or, as the woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

My dear brothers and sisters, if you genuinely desire to block out the world, you cannot act as Adam and Eve; you must approach every aspect of life differently.

You must come to the font daily where Jesus has taken your sin into His death and raised you to new life. So, dip your fingers in that font and remember your baptism as Christ Jesus continues to douse the inferno within your heart.

Then, you must gather with one another in this sanctuary where your Immanuel dwells with you this day – bringing the true temple of God to you as He fills your ears with His Word and purges this corrupted world from your mind.

And then, finally, approach this altar where the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” feeds you with His life-giving flesh and blood – expelling the dung of the sin that consumes and destroys you. 

This is the rhythm and beat of the Church’s song - written so that we, along with future generations, would know its story, sing it, believe it, exercise, and live it as we place our faith and trust in our Savior Jesus Christ.

As I descend this pulpit for the last time today, my prayer is that the cross of Christ Jesus continues to unite you as true brothers and sisters - leading you out of the ashes and sadness of this life and unto eternal life where we are given the new song of eternal praise to our heavenly King who reigns eternally in the great city of peace, His Holy Jerusalem. +INJ+

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keeps your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Rev. Noah J. Rogness
Associate Pastor, Immanuel Evangelical-Lutheran Church
Alexandria, VA