Buildings

There once was a gifted architect who also happened to be wise. He was smart about his craft but what made him wise was he knew its purpose. The builder of some of the greatest cathedrals and sacred spaces, as well as remarkable performance spaces and cultural arts centers, his reputation made him the preeminent architect of his time. But he was always able to see beyond the buildings themselves, see beyond the glass and columns, to the purpose of those buildings. “My job is to create spaces,” he humbly pointed out, “but it’s what happens in those spaces that truly matters.”

I think the same wisdom can be used when looking at our lives. We come into this world and begin construction right away. Over the years, we construct lives that are not only unique but are sometimes grand and impressive. The architect would remind us, however, that such creations are not as important as what happens within our lives.

Inside the dwelling places of our souls, whether they be cathedrals or cottages, what goes on? What are we about? Do we focus on adding new wings or making impressive renovations, or are we looking beyond the particulars to how our short time here on earth can count for something? Are we looking to build legacy of “bricks” and “mortar,” or one of flesh and blood. Are we wandering in self-congratulating awe around the lives we’ve built, or are we busy inside seeking to make a difference in the lives of others?

We are living in an interesting moment. Never have I known anything like it, although the fundamental questions are the same. In the light of our heated and volatile time, these architectural questions are more pronounced: Are we here to build bigger and more impressive buildings or to turn our attention to what we do within the “buildings” we already have. Are we to focus only on ourselves and people like us or on others and the world around us?

Buildings don’t last, but the work within them can.

Easter 2025

tomb

/toom/

 noun

a place of darkness where dead things are placed. Originally used for dead bodies, now also used for tragic moments, painful wounds, and poor decisions.

a place out of sight, usually dark and dank, used so one need not think about, recognized, or acknowledge what’s stored there.

a place with thick walls protected by large, heavy stones, much like a cave.

a place of shadows - of fear, sorrow, all-consuming guilt - which reaches out with its dark fingers seeking to take hold and pull us in.

a place, external or internal, made by an individual who cannot, or will not, let go of the past, or by others who seek feelings of superiority or self-righteousness at the expense of others.

the place God needed to go to remove all death from one’s life, a place made empty and full of light, so one can dance again and sing “alleluia” from the depths of one’s liberated soul.

 See “Resurrection.”

Palm Sunday: Seeing Jesus

“Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.” John 12: 21

It’s a brief moment in John’s narrative, and yet it captures the desire so many of us carry deep within. Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and a group of men came to Philip and asked to see Jesus. Like many others, they’d heard a lot about this man and wanted to see him for themselves. After 2000 years, not much has changed. You and I have heard a lot about Jesus, and yet on this Palm Sunday we still want to see him for ourselves.

Looking over at the bookcase in my study I see many books about Jesus. I think about the countless hours I’ve spent going to church, the sermons I’ve heard and delivered, the classes I’ve taken and taught. All of it speaks to my desire to see Jesus, and I’m embarrassed to say that I’m not sure I have ever seen him for myself - glimpses maybe, but never a lasting vision. This Palm Sunday I find myself standing beside the men who came to Philip wanting to see Jesus. Perhaps you do too.

When Jesus entered Jerusalem there were people lining the road, some waving palms and laying them on the road to honor the man on a donkey. Some climbed trees to get a better view and others looked on from afar. Everyone was curious about this man they’d heard about. Now they wanted to see him for themselves.

The problem was, they wanted Jesus to be who they expected him to be. Those who were looking for the Messiah had expectations about what a Messiah should be and do. Those looking for a political leader, had expectations about what such a leader would be and do. In the end, Jesus would disappoint them all. He rarely appears to be who we expect or want.

Nothing’s changed.

We still wave palms, sit in the pews, and seek a better view. We come seeking Jesus but do so full of expectations and preconceived notions. No wonder we remain spiritually hungry. Perhaps the key is seeking Jesus without expectations. Perhaps the key is confessing our pre-conceived ideas and welcoming him into our lives as he is and not as we want him to be.

Such an approach is dangerous. What happens if we see Jesus and he’s not who we want or expect? What happens if he tells us to care about people we don’t want to care about? What if he asks us to forgive people we cannot stand, or value things that are silly, foolish? Even worse, what if he challenges our political leanings?

We will either want to worship him or kill him. It’s been that way for 2000 years.