For the people of Israel, it was the end of the world.
No, it wasn’t the end of the space-time continuum.
But it meant the end of their world. And since God had made it plain to Abraham so many years earlier that he was going to bless everyone else through the Jews, the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem apparently meant God had given up on the rest of humanity, too.
Most cities in the ancient world were dotted with temples, big and small, representing a smorgasbord of religious options. Who would you like to worship today?
Israel’s capital was different. It wasn’t so much a city with a temple, but a temple surrounded by a city. An astonishing 25% of Jerusalem’s real estate was devoted to the temple and its adjoining courts during the time of Jesus. It was assumed that this huge limestone structure was the one-and-only place where heaven touched earth. This is where God could be found. It was central to every aspect of Jewish life.
Thus it’s no surprise that a significant number of scenes from the life of Jesus took place around the temple.
His disciples, his listeners, and his opponents all wanted to know: What did Jesus think of this extraordinary building where the creator God lives out his unique relationship with Israel?
Jesus’ answer shocked his listeners.
This temple is temporary, he said. It’s going to disappear. Within a generation it would be reduced to a smoldering ruin, where “not a single stone will be left upon another” (Matthew 24:2).
It happened when Rome finally lost patience with Judea, which for decades, even as a conquered nation, had proved itself to be seriously high maintenance. When the Roman governor Florus confiscated some of the temple’s silver in order to pay off “back taxes,” Jewish revolutionaries decided it was time to throw off the Roman yoke once and for all.
Bad move.
In response, imperial troops surged into Judea in A.D. 66, triggering seven years of bloody fighting. At first it appeared the Jews might actually win. Then General Vespasian and his son Titus (both of whom would ultimately become Roman emperors) put the hammer down. In A.D. 70 they fought their way into Jerusalem, slaughtered its inhabitants, and set everything ablaze.
That included the temple. Since its gold veneer melted and ran down between those giant limestone blocks, the invaders upended virtually every stone (fulfilling Jesus’ prophecy) in order to scrape off the treasure.
A group of Jewish Zealots and their families held out in the desert fortress of Masada until A.D. 73. When it was clear the Romans would take that prize as well, almost the entire group committed suicide.
The Jewish age, for all intents and purposes, was now over. Israel would not reclaim a national identity until May 1948.
It was an extraordinary turning point for the Jesus movement, which was then only about 40 years old. The majority of the early Christian converts, being Jewish, had found it natural to remain in and around Jerusalem. Jesus, after all, had claimed to be the Messiah of the children of Abraham.
The Roman conquest changed everything.
Since Judea could no longer serve as their base of operations, Christians migrated to spots all around the Mediterranean rim, taking the Good News with them – to Gentiles. From A.D. 70 on, Christianity was more free than ever to become a global movement.
For Christ-followers, then, the disastrous destruction of the temple turned out not to be the end of the world. It was just the first chapter of a whole new story.
Along the way, the disciples remembered something important Jesus had said about the temple.
When pressed to defend his claims to spiritual authority, he had declared, “Destroy this temple and I will raise it again in three days.” His opponents were flabbergasted. Jerusalem’s worship center had been under construction for 46 years, and he was going to match all that work in three days? John noted in his gospel, “But the temple he had spoken of was his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said” (John 2:18-22).
Jesus, in other words, claimed to be the new temple.
He himself became the meeting place between heaven and earth. He was now the place where God could be consulted and sins could be forgiven. People no longer needed to trudge to a particular city and stand on a particular piece of ground in order to experience the Creator. All of those realities were now transferred to him.
Then came an even bigger surprise.
The apostle Paul, writing to the young Christians living in the temple-saturated city of Corinth, Greece, asked, “Don’t you know [as if it were common knowledge] that you yourselves are God’s temple, and that God’s Spirit dwells within you?” (I Corinthians 3:16). The logic was compelling. If God’s presence was now uniquely available in Jesus, and if Jesus lives within his followers by means of the Holy Spirit, we ourselves have become the place where God resides.
The word “you” in this verse is plural, which means that the whole group of men and women following Jesus comprise a living temple where the one true God chooses to live.
Instead of climbing the steps of a beautiful marble structure to bow before representations of gods and goddesses, we can have access to God the Father by spending time with that woman who, with God’s help, is still dealing with the shame of her past; with that man who sings even the simplest hymns offkey; and with the impoverished family who look to God every day because they have no idea what they’ll be able to give their kids for dinner.
Has God seriously called such ordinary people to represent his "house"? The answer is Yes.
Christians routinely speak of going to church, as if God resides at a particular corner that can be located via Google Maps. But Paul is making it clear that God's temple, the church - the place where he dwells - is us. Whenever we are on the move, God is on the move.
If you take that thought to heart, your weekend just became a lot more interesting. Perhaps you’re planning on dropping in on a sick neighbor, picking up a few items at the grocery, and watching some college basketball with friends. Routine stuff. But now you know - in a way that's hard to put into words - that God's own Spirit will be at work while you're offering words of encouragement, searching for a decent rump roast, and cheering for your team.
Your family room and your shopping cart, in other words, are where heaven and earth meet.
Which means you don't need to schedule a trip to the Parthenon to see a really impressive temple.
Just look in the mirror.
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