Tourist Trap

 

Have you ever gone on a trip to someplace new and been caught up in excitement with how beautiful it is or how exciting or how new it is?  The first time going to West Edmonton Mall, maybe, or the first time at a movie theatre, or going to Redwater for the first time to play a hockey game.  Playing tourist brings out more than our cameras, it brings out a childlike playfulness.  Just like some of Jesus’ disciples in our reading today.

“Wow, look at that!  Look at the gems! Look at the marble! Look at the windows!  Look at the gifts people have given to our amazing temple!”  If they had cell phones, they would have been snapchatting while they took it all in.

They were caught up in the glamor and the glory and probably, if they were deeply honest, a bit of nationalistic pride.  Maybe some of them were dreaming of the day Jesus would become king, move in and take over the whole place.  The Temple, heart of their faith and their spirituality, the house of their God, would one day be their playground.

Buildings can be like that.  A beautiful building with amazing architecture can create a sense of awe when you wander in.  No wonder they were having a childlike response to their sacred landmark. 

The Temple had a long and checkered history.  King David, the one who killed Goliath, had wanted to build it, but God wanted to stay in a tent.  King Solomon, his son, built the first temple, and it was glorious.  One of his many times great grandsons made the mistake of doing a tour for Babylonian travellers, and showing off all the gold and treasures the temple had accumulated.  Next thing they knew, the Babylonians came back with an army, ransacked the temple, stole the people and the gold and destroyed much of the city.  It would take a long time before it was rebuilt.  The temple had just finished being renovated before Jesus came, by Herod the Great, and had a beautiful golden vine carved on the outside.

And yet, this didn’t impress Jesus much.  While the disciples gazed and exclaimed in excitement, Jesus recognized that the second temple was just as fragile as the first one had been.  Jesus knew that the prophets who wrote Isaiah saw the destruction of the first Temple as a sign of how far the nation had strayed from its true purpose, to be in relationship with God.  The temple was supposed to be a place of peace and mercy, a refuge from injustice and quarrelling. A place of calm and stillness, healing and holiness.  A place of joy and music and halleluiahs.  A place where the lion could one day lie down with the lamb.

Jesus wanted to warn the disciples from being too focussed on what the Temple was instead of why it was there. 

We can get focussed on the what instead of the why too.  Our buildings need roofs and furnaces and stoves and heat, which is important, but the why is more important.  We need a place to gather together to heal, to sigh, to learn, to sing, to pray, to hold each other in love and in light.  We need a place to remind ourselves that God is with us, we are not alone.  We need a place where we can experiment with giving radical hospitality to people of all ages and stages, where we can recapture some of the joy and playfulness we had when we were children, the curiosity, and the openness to God in our lives.

Jesus challenged his disciples to look past the glamour of a tourist trap to the real purpose of the Temple, and how the best of buildings, the holiest of buildings can still be fragile and fleeting. And Jesus dared to tell the truth about the Temple, and about his country.  The people were fixated on power and money, and resentments were common.  The ordinary people resented the Roman occupiers, the leaders resented challenges to their power and control, and this meant people were simmering at the brink of violence.  The temple was doomed, they just didn’t know it yet.

Our society, our province and our neighbors to the south are also simmering.  With the release of more Epstein files, with the frustration with the attack on our human rights in our province and our children’s human rights, with the increase of measles and tuberculosis in Alberta, with rising food prices and a global economy that adds up to what is being called a polycrisis, there is a feeling of frustration and helplessness for many.  One minister in the states wrote on Friday, about the politics in the states:

Power is not rooted in goodness. It is rooted in grievance, nostalgia for white dominance, patriarchal entitlement...

This is not a political analysis. It is a moral one…

We cannot force the reckoning justice calls for, but we can refuse to pretend that the absence of justice is anything less than a moral failure. We can stop waiting for institutions that have already failed to do what they have no intention of doing. We can choose, in our own communities and families, to name what is true: This is not normal. This is not acceptable. And this is not what a just society looks like.

Jesus refused to pretend with his disciples.  He refused to pretend that the Temple was the vision Isaiah preached about where the lion lays down with the lamb.  God is calling us to trust in a better dream than tourist traps covered with gold or marble.  God is building a world where human rights are valued, where all people, despite their differences, children and adults alike, are treated with justice and love.  God is about to create a world where there is no weeping or distress, where the lion will lay down with the lamb.  May we know and trust in God’s promise for us all. Amen.

Note: Since I preached this on Sunday, November 16, it was brought to my attention that The Economist published two excellent articles in their Nov. 1 2025 edition, "By Invitation" written by Peter York, author of "Dictator Style: Lifestyles of the World's Most Colorful Despots", and "Palace Intrigue" that highlights the parallels between what is currently happening at the White House and what happened in Versailles and other national buildings when in the hands of the dictators. They are found on pages 17 and 78 of the magazine and readily available in public libraries including Athabasca's Alice B. Donahue Library.  Although I had not read them, the conclusions are eerily similar, including a photograph of the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles similar to my photo which I took in 2017.