A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois on Sunday, November 14, 2010
“REPAINT AND THIN NO MORE!”
(Homily text: Luke 21: 5 – 19)
Some years ago, a painter had been hired to repaint the old church that had stood for so many years on the edge of town. Its wooden sides were chipped and peeling, but it was a beautiful old church that everyone loved.
So, the painter set to work. Pretty much, he was all alone, working away. Since it was the middle of the week, there were very few people around, except for the occasional parishioner, and the pastor, who seemed to be preoccupied with many things as he passed by the ladders and scaffolding.
It occurred to the painter that, if he would just thin out the paint a little, it’d take a whole lot less paint to finish the job, and the savings that would result would be all his. “No one will ever know,” he thought to himself, since there would be no one to see him adding thinner to the paint.
So, thin he did. All seemed to be working quite well with the painter’s plan until, one day, a storm cloud suddenly appeared on the horizon. The painter, as well as everyone in town, seemed quite surprised by the sudden appearance of this dark cloud, since the weather had been so beautiful, clear and bright (much like the beautiful weather we’ve been having this fall).
And, as suddenly as the cloud appeared, it began to thunder, lightning and rain. Buckets of water came out of the sky.
As soon as the cloud had appeared, it also disappeared, but not before having washed all of the thinned-out paint off the church. The painter stood dumbfounded, gazing at the results. And as he did so, a deep voice came out of the cloud, saying, “Repaint, and thin no more!”
Now this little story (joke) has a lot to tell us about Jesus’ teaching, heard today, about the coming difficult times which await God’s people.
In particular, the setting for Jesus’ comments is the beautiful Temple in Jerusalem. It must have been an awesome place, even though it was still uncompleted when Jesus uttered the words we hear today.1
Hearing Jesus say that “the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another, all will be thrown down,” must have stuck His listeners as an odd statement. Much like the painter in our opening story, who must have thought that his work would last indefinitely, the Jews of Jesus’ day considered the Temple to be a permanent and enduring symbol of their work and their identity.
But the days did come when “not one stone was left upon another,” for the Romans destroyed the Temple complex at the conclusion of the Jewish-Roman War, in 70 AD. Even today, one can see in the stones of the recently excavated street which is on the southwest side of the Temple wall, the effects of the stones hitting the pavement below, as Roman soldiers threw the stones over the wall to the ground below.
The storm clouds of war came and swept away the work that seemed so handsome and so permanent.
God’s judgment comes, and Jesus describes the divine judgment in traditional, biblical language: “There will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues, and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.” To Jesus’ original hearers, the message would – most likely – have been very clear: This is God’s judgment!
It comes swiftly, like a suddenly appearing storm cloud on the horizon. It is as if God’s voice rings out from the heavens: “Repent, and sin no more!” To this warning might be added another: “Be sure that your work will endure when the storm clouds appear.”
By now, we know that Luke’s original readers2 were already experiencing the events that Jesus foretold: The Temple had been destroyed, the result of the Jewish nation arising against the Roman nation. The resulting war brought plagues and famines (for a detailed account of the conditions in and around Jerusalem at the conclusion of the Jewish-Roman War, read the first century historian Josephus’ account of it in his work The Jewish War 3).
Moreover, organized persecutions had begun under the Emperor Nero: When the city of Rome caught fire in 64 AD, Nero decided he needed someone to blame, and he chose the Christians. Consequently, many were martyred. In succeeding years, many others would be dragged before magistrates to give an account of their faith.
Jesus’ words had come true.
If all of this sounds a lot like some of our Advent season themes, your assessment of the overall sense of today’s gospel reading and the themes of the Advent season is quite correct, in my estimation.
For Advent concentrates on Jesus’ first coming, which we commemorate at Christmas, and on His second coming, at which time He will judge the living and the dead (as the Creed says). During Advent, we also focus in the time in between the first and the second comings, that is, the time we are living in now. Traditionally, Advent is a season for repentance, as we consider our lifestyles and our sins, knowing that God’s judgment awaits us, both in this life, and in the life to come.
The Church, in her wisdom, ends the old Church Year where the new Church Year begins. To do so reminds of the cyclical nature of God’s working, and our relating to that work.
For, you see, Jesus’ warnings and the truth He imparts to us, are timeless. The truth of His word applies to the first century, as well as to the twenty first.
If the business of living was difficult for Christians in the first century, it will also be difficult for Christians today. Yes, the nature of the trials and troubles will be different, and they will be – we hope in God, at least – of a lesser sort than our spiritual forebearers endured.
But the temptation to cut corners spiritually and to take the easy way will always be there. After all, if we are tempted to do these things when the skies of our lives are clear and cloudless, what will happen when our work is tested by the storm clouds of life?
Even so, Lord Jesus, come into our hearts, that we may work diligently while we may, to the end that your truth may be grafted in our hearts, so that when the time of judgment comes, we may rest confidently in your enduring presence within.
AMEN.
[1] The entire construction project lasted about 64 years, and would not be completed until about 20 years after Jesus’ death and resurrection.
[2] Many scholars date Luke’s writing of his gospel account to the years 85 – 90 AD.
[3] Written in about 75 AD.
