On April 15 of 2019 a fire broke out in the roof of the Notre Dame cathedral in Paris. At the time the 700-year old building was undergoing renovation. The fire spread in no time through the centuries-old dry timbers that made up the roof. The building was not completely destroyed. More than 400 firefighters fought to save as much as they could. In the years since a great deal of money was raised, the church was rebuilt, and it is now open once again. But I remember turning on the news to see crowds gathered outside while it burned. People were praying. They were singing. And around the world people who have never been to Paris, people who never will go to Paris, wept at the sight of one of the world’s most famous Christian churches on fire.
We can be awfully attached to buildings, can’t we? This is a uniquely human trait. No animal weeps over a building it has never visited. And that’s because a building means more to us than just being a stack of bricks or boards. It’s not just a place to take refuge from the cold and the rain. When we look at a building we think of its history. We think of what it stands for. We think of the people who built it, maintained it, and used it, from the time it was first built until now. And we think of its potential, what it might be and what it might mean to people in the future.
And so we’re saddened by the childhood home that has been demolished, and by the fourth-generation family farm that has been sold off, and by the once thriving business that has closed, even if those aren’t places that affect us personally anymore. We might weep at the news of a church burning halfway around the world.
Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem. In our Gospel for today Jesus foretold the destruction of that great city, which happened just as he said right about this time of year in the year 70 AD. Forty years earlier Jesus prophesied against the people there who constantly rejected God’s word and turned away from God’s grace. But what great love he had for them and for the world! What great love he has for us! Our Lord Weeps for Sinners.
This text is found in Luke 19. The event Luke is describing here is something that all four Gospel writers describe. It’s Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the week leading up to his death and resurrection. Luke is the only one who records these specific details where Jesus prophesies about Jerusalem’s destruction, though Matthew records a similar statement later during Holy Week. And it’s interesting to think that Luke was writing this down some time later, but he still hadn’t seen how Jesus’ words would be fulfilled. Jesus spoke these words around 30. Luke wrote them down around 60. The destruction of Jerusalem wouldn’t come until 70.
This is a little picture of Judgment Day for us. Jesus said that he will come to judge the world. He said that everything will be destroyed by fire. We don’t know all the details. We don’t know when it will be. Maybe it’s just around the corner. Maybe it’s ten years off. Jesus tells us we should always be prepared.
It must have been a surprise to people who were with Jesus as he rode towards Jerusalem and finally came in sight of it. The Palm Sunday procession was a joyful one. People were singing and shouting. They were praising him. He was riding as the royal and humble king. No doubt some people thought that this was the beginning of the great restoration of Israel, where Israel might become like it was back in the glorious days of King David. People were in a celebratory mood. But not Jesus. Luke says,
As he came near, he saw the city and wept over it. 42He said, “If you, yes you, had only known on this day the things that would bring peace to you. But now, it is hidden from your eyes. 43In fact, the days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you, surround you, and hem you in on every side. 44Within your walls, they will dash you and your children to the ground. And within your walls, they will not leave one stone on top of another, because you did not recognize the time when God came to help you.”
Jesus spoke of the future here in his office of Prophet. And if there were people in the crowd who were dreaming of a glorious earthly kingdom Jesus was not encouraging that idea. His prophecy reflected on the history of these people. How many prophets had God sent to this city? How many of them had been ignored, scorned, tortured, and executed because of their message? Jesus’ prophecy was also based on what he in his omniscience knew was coming. He was not entering this city to take up a throne. He was entering it to take up a cross. The Pharisees had been fretting “The Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.” The High Priest Caiaphas said, “It is better for us that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.” But they had turned away from their God. And there was nothing that they could do—nothing in their power—to prevent the destruction that was coming.
It isn’t hard to see why Jesus would weep over this coming destruction. As true man Jesus participated in this very human thing of weeping over destruction, even that which was a long way off. And what city holds more history and more meaning than Jerusalem? This was the capital of God’s chosen people. This was the city of David, where Jesus’ fathers according to his human nature had ruled over these people. This was the city of the prophets, where such servants of God as Isaiah and Jeremiah had lived and worked. And this is where the temple stood, the dwelling of God on earth, of which the Psalmist expressed the heart of God’s people in Psalm 84, “How I love your dwelling place, O LORD of Armies. My soul grows weak and even wastes away, as I long for the courtyards of the LORD.”
And it wasn’t just the city, but it was especially the people that Jesus wept over. Thankfully no one died in the Notre Dame fire. But thousands would die when Jerusalem was destroyed. And Jesus wept for them. He wept for the children, and for the women, and for the men who got caught up in it all. He also wept for the schemers and rebels and blasphemers. He wept for sinners. His heart was not just for righteous people. Later that same week he would pray, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
Is this a strange text to preach on on the day before we begin a church construction project? We’re excited to see work begin on our church and a beautiful new floor installed. Maybe we’re like the people parading joyfully along the way only to look over at Jesus and see him weeping. “They will not leave one stone on top of another.”
Could that be us? We’d be pretty foolish to say that it couldn’t. Look at how many times the people of Israel thought that nothing bad could ever happen to them. 600 years before Palm Sunday Jeremiah warned the people of Jerusalem who felt so confident in their buildings and so comfortable in their sins. Speaking through him God said, “Will you come and stand before me in this temple that bears my Name, and say, “We are safe,” the whole time you do all these detestable things? This house bears my Name!”
Whether we are building for our church or building for our homes, it is so easy for us to lose sight of what is truly important. The people of Jerusalem ignored and despised God’s warnings. Will we?
But this is actually an excellent text for us at the beginning of a new church project. Because Jesus here shows his love – love for the city and house that bears his name, and love for all people, including us. To Jerusalem he said, “If you had only known on this day the things that would bring peace to you. But now it is hidden from your eyes.” But by his grace he has opened our eyes to see him and his suffering and his death and his resurrection. He has removed our blinders of sin so that we can see the things that bring peace to us.
Our church building won’t last forever. Nothing in this world will. Even if we are so blessed that our church is not destroyed by decay, or by storms, or by war, the Day of Judgment will come when all the world is destroyed by fire. That’s not such a bad thing. There are parts of this building, like that mess of electrical conduits, that I won’t be weeping over.
But we love our church now because this is where we gather with our dear fellow believers to hear the Gospel of Jesus. This is where our gracious Lord comes to us—our Lord who weeps with compassionate love over sinners—to forgive our sins and strengthen our faith and to send the Holy Spirit into our hearts so that we can confess, “Jesus is Lord!” It’s here in our church building where we see miracles take place. People of all ages, adults and little babies, are baptized and receive a new birth from heaven. Simple bread and wine are, by Jesus’ own declaration, his body and blood that unite us to him and give us everlasting life. This is a wonderful place because of how often, sitting here, our Lord has opened our eyes to recognize the time when God came to help us.
We can get awfully attached to buildings, can’t we? But here it’s not really the building that we love so much, is it? It’s our Lord, who has such great love for us. May he bless the work we are about to begin. May he bless this building, in future as he has in the past. May he bless us, his people, and bring us from the weeping of this world to the everlasting joy of the eternal heavenly city. Amen.
— Pastor Seth Georgson