But all that was in the past. Noah's descendants had a chance to start fresh, to write their own sagas, to build a new civilization even greater than the lost cities of yore. From Noah came Ham, from Ham came Cush, and Cush fathered Nimrod, a legendary hunter and warlord. Nimrod founded the horribly evil ancient realm of Assyria. Our spiritual forefathers would shudder to even hear the name of that kingdom, which included the hated city of Nineveh and, of course, Babel.
Here, the people took after their own ancestors of whom the Lord said “that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.” This was their time, a new kingdom was coming, a kingdom of man, such as never was nor never would be... so they thought. The people of Babel, in the plain of Shinar, in what is modern day Iraq, said, "Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth."
And so, with all the power of the flesh, the strong backs and relentless ambition of mighty men of renown, united by one language and purpose, they started building. Brick by brick, packed-mud and straw developed into massive walls, glorious pagan temples, and one central awe-inspiring tower piercing into the heart of heaven itself.
And then, in an instant, our Lord thwarted the plans of their hearts. Their one language was fractured into hundreds and their unity crumbled. Confusion broke out en masse. Brother rose up against brother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law, and the streets of Babel ran with blood. Very quickly, each group would gather together those who spoke the same language and scatter themselves across the face of the earth. From that day until now, the history of the world is of nothing but one battle, one treachery, one war after another, fueled by all-consuming hatred.
And now, thousands of year later upon the rubble of a million doomed empires, a new kingdom is once again coming into fruition. This one is built not on to the mortal back of crumbling fickle man, but by the power and strength of God himself. The Holy Ghost, who spoke all things into existence, has been breathed into the mouths of these weak, timid, uneducated disciples and turned them into unstoppable dynamos. This, by the way, is literally the Greek word for “strength”, from which we get “dynamite”.
Filled with this dynamite of God, the apostles began to build upon the solid foundation, the rock of Christ Himself. Each Christian, born from water and the spirit, nourished by the blood of the lamb, would become living stones in God's eternal house. All mud and straw, bricks baked like iron in the desert heat, will eventually crumble into nothingness. All gold, silver, and precious gems will melt into rivers. All the elements will be destroyed in unquenchable fire. But you shall remain.
“Destroy the temple”, Jesus said, “and I will rebuild it in three days.” The crowds and religious leaders scoffed and mocked, but we know that the temple he spoke of was his body. He was built as a tower from heaven, extending all the way into the heart of the earth, God's grace and salvation coming down Jacob's cross-shaped ladder into our midst. The man Christ Jesus, in whom the fullness of God dwells, was melted under the fiery divine wrath in our place and was poured out for our iniquities. He was drop-forged into the belly of the tomb and walked out, by his own power, on the third day, the first-born of a new eternal city of God.
We have all drank from the same spiritual rock. His Spirit flows deeply in our veins as wells of salvation bubbling up unto eternal life. We are Zion, the saints of God, gathered in multitudes around the throne of the Lamb who was slain, casting our crowns before Him and crying out Holy! Holy! Holy! We are the new city to which all the nations will stream, lining up to eat from the tree and drink from the river of life.
Unlike the ambitious heroes of Babel who attempted to make a name for themselves, the name of Christ has been given to us, freely and without charge. From the four corners of the world, out of Africa, out of Siberia, Eastern Europe, Patagonia, the Pacific Isles, Westville, Indiana and every inch of the globe a new people has emerged, speaking with the one-voice of the Gospel. Christ and Him Crucified is the mortar, which binds us all together into a great kingdom, unimaginable to even the legendary giants and hunters of the antediluvian age.
Where two or more are gathered in the name of Christ, He is there knitting us together into this spiritual body. One Lord. One Faith. One Baptism. The day of Pentecost, two thousand years ago, was only a confusion to those looking in from the outside, to the scoffers and religious leaders, writing off the phenomenon as a drunken mass delusion. From the inside, men and women of all languages heard the pure, pristine, beautifully simple good news about who Jesus is and what he has done. In this Word, whether spoken, read, eaten, or dripped across our forehead, we clearly recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd.
Brothers and Sisters, it is our time. While we see the work and power of man crumble all around, while a thousand fall at your left and ten thousand at your right, the kingdom of God continues to prosper and the gates of hell itself shall not prevail against it. Wonders beyond dream, beyond legend, beyond anything we can possibly imagine, are being prepared for you in Christ. One blink of an eye, and all will exposed and revealed. All the glory and honor and power and strength and might and the victory of Jesus Christ are to be shared with you. You, yourself, shall behold it. Your eyes shall see, and not another. Your heart will faint within you.
+ Amen +
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