Mount Kilimanjaro is the tallest freestanding mountain in the world. It’s not the tallest mountain in the world. But it is the tallest one that stands all by itself with no other mountains around.
Williams Tower just a few blocks from here is the tallest freestanding skyscraper in the world. It’s not the tallest skyscraper in the world. But it is the tallest one that stands all by itself with no other skyscrapers around.
Skyscrapers are like mountains for city-dwellers. Five, six, and occasionally seven times a week, I drive east on Westheimer and cannot help but see Williams Tower. But I’m feeling a little melancholy lately because I’m not noticing it as much. It’s beginning to disappear.
I have a friend who told a story one time in one of his sermons about his old grandfather clock. When he first got it, the sound of it was jarring, like the sound of a glass breaking in the kitchen. It would go off behind him while he sat in his recliner reading his newspaper, and the gong made him literally jump.
But then something happened. His clock grew quieter over the months and years. And eventually, he stopped hearing it altogether. He noticed this when one of his houseguests jumped at the sound of the clock. It was not the clock that grew quieter. He simply no longer had ears to hear it.
Williams Tower has been like a mountain every morning as I drive down Westheimer. It rises in the distance all by itself. Some mornings it reflects the sunlight. Some other mornings, clouds and fog surround it like a magician covering the box in the middle of the stage. I remember one beautiful bright blue sky when it reflected the occasional slowly drifting cloud that made the tower look like a giant impressionist painting.
But I’m afraid that I am beginning to lose my sense of wonder. The building is beginning to fade. I need a passenger to look at it and say, “That is one big beautiful building.”
I imagine people living in Kenya and Tanzania feel this way about Kilimanjaro. I would guess that native Parisians no longer notice the Eifel Tower.
All these buildings and mountains. I love the way Scripture uses both to talk about the people of God. But for today, we will just stick with buildings.
Do you not know that we are God’s building?
1 Corinthians 3:9 - "For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building."
We are God’s building. But when we have been looking at ourselves for so long, our “eyes to see” begin to lose their vision. But thanks be to God, we come together to dwell in the Word and hear things like this:
1 Corinthians 3:16-23 - "Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple. Do not deceive yourselves. If you think that you are wise in this age, you should become fools so that you may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, ‘He catches the wise in their craftiness,' and again, ‘The Lord knows the thoughts of the wise, that they are futile.’ So let no one boast about human leaders. For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all belong to you, and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God."
That last little bit is interesting. Paul, Apollos, Peter, the whole wide world, and life and death—They all belong to you. That’s something to think about. He is telling this mixed up bunch of young Christians that everything belongs to them. I think it’s kind of a neat philosophical way of saying that they can think about and ponder these things all day long. Kind of like the Jews would talk about holding something in your heart.
The world is yours. But not in a mad scientist sort of way wanting to rule the world, or an evil dictator, or Scarface. Not like that. No, God reminds us here through his word that being able to see things clearly only happens in Christ. For when we are in Christ, the whole wide world is revealed for what it truly is. Life is revealed for what it truly is. Death is revealed for what it truly is. So are all your leaders, and basically anything you could possibly name.
This is why God’s building stands out and can be seen for miles. When we are in Christ, the worldly wisdom appears to us as foolish. That’s where Jesus’ teaching on love builds us into a new building. Not only one that others can see, but one that never fades in our own sight.
Matthew 5:38-48 - "‘You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax-collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."
Jesus is building a dichotomy here, a dichotomy that separates foolish love from wise love.
Foolish love sees the world as a place where we defend temporary things; wise love sees the things of the world as worthy of being shared.
Foolish love says, “I’ll go one mile, but that’s it;” wise love says, “I’ll go with you, because you are important.”
Foolish love says, “Those who slander me deserve a thrashing;” wise love says, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”
Foolish love says, “I like the people who think I’m the best;” wise love says, “Everyone is invited to the feast.”
The only reason we as a spiritual building stand is because Jesus is our foundation. The most affirming thing that Paul says, perhaps in his entire body of work, is that this mixed up group of basket case Christians in Corinth is still considered the place where the Spirit of the Lord dwells. In all their imperfection, they are still the temple of the Lord. Because God has made, and is making, them holy, they are the temple of God. And that’s what we are.
If we are not careful, such truths become commonplace. Such truths become obscured by clouds like a building in the distance we learn to ignore. We grow used to saying things that once stirred our souls. But the reason we keep saying them, even when we have to strain our ears to listen, has to do with the way we are to keep building up one another. When we say, “We are the House of God,” it changes everything. It influences the way we look at one another. It shapes the things we say to one another. It deepens our sense of mission and why God continues to pour out His Spirit on this church as a place that welcomes everyone who comes through our doors. We begin to see each other, and even ourselves, as holy, because that is what God is making us.
And as those holy to the Lord, we will practice wise love with one another, be gracious to those we do not know, and pray that God will continue to shape us in the image and likeness of Christ.
The whole world is yours. But you belong to Christ. And Christ belongs to God. I think we will always be in the process of learning what that means. But it sure sounds good. Amen.
