Mark 13:1-2 And as he went out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, Master, see what manner of stones and what buildings are here!… Privilege and responsibility go hand in hand, and the higher the opportunity, the greater the penalty for neglecting to improve it. The occasion of the uttering of this prediction is suggestive. The Saviour had marvelled at the widow's mite; the disciples marvel at the temple's magnificence. Forty and six years had the temple been in building, and had not long been completed. Occupying a site which seemed impregnable, its massive structure seemed to defy the destructive arts of war, while the exquisite beauty of its golden roof, of its courts, of its cloisters, of its pillars, of its gates, made it one of the wonders of the world. As today, a visitor to the cathedral of St. Isaac's, at St. Petersburg, would mark outside the great pillars, made of single stones of granite, and within the marvellous pillars of Malachite and Lapis Lazuli, so the twelve point to stones of vast dimensions and beautiful in their veins and workmanship, and ask His admiration at once for these individual stones, and for the whole temple, which, like a jewel, crowned that hill of Zion, which the Psalmist had thought so beautiful for situation. It was a time of peace, for the horrors of war were being forgotten as a troubled dream. The absorption of Judaea in the Roman Empire seemed to promise a degree of security, which would be not an altogether unsatisfactory compensation for the loss of dignity of freedom. Just as our rule in India prevents wars amongst the various nations peopling that continent, so "The Roman peace," as it has been termed, prevailed between and blessed the various peoples blended together in the great Roman Empire. The scene was made more impressive by the multitudes from every land who had gathered to the feast, wearing various costumes, speaking various languages. The candid observer would regret the absence of many of the signs of devotion he had hoped to find; but would at the same time indulge the feeling that there must be some vitality in the religion which felt such a mighty attraction to the House of God. A nation so united in what was deepest and holiest could not, he would think, fail to have some future still awaiting it. And whether the cloudless sun gilded the scene of cheerful activity, or the silver light of the passover full moon rested like a benediction on the whole, hope rather than solicitude would fill his heart; and the holiest spot on earth would seem destined to wear an eternal bloom of glory. Unexpected by His hearers, Christ's words thrill them with horror. We still feel Christ's sayings hard. We still find, on earnest study, that some hard sayings are yet helpful. 1. Taste is not everything in religion. The temple of Jerusalem was perhaps the most beautiful religious building ever raised by men; yet it was built by Herod the Great, a man as wicked in his life as he was exquisite in his taste. And all this beauty is so valueless in God's sight that, costly and marvellous as it was, it had no endurance, but like the grass of the housetop, which withereth afore it groweth up, the world had hardly time to marvel at its aspect before they lamented its end. The true beauty of a church is that of hearts: the kindly thought, the gracious prayer, the consecrated life. 2. There is only one thing that can give endurance — righteousness. Where it is absent, nothing can secure man, city, or institution from a grave fate. So the Saviour begins His teaching on the judgment of Jerusalem. Was it any wonder that, sickened with the thought of such calamity, Christ could not enjoy the outward beauty of the temple as others did? (R. Glover.) Parallel Verses KJV: And as he went out of the temple, one of his disciples saith unto him, Master, see what manner of stones and what buildings are here! |
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