Daily Reflection

Reflection for November 16, 2025

The Foundation That Endures

The Gospel of Luke presents us with a scene that feels both ancient and startlingly contemporary. As some of the disciples marvel at the magnificence of the Jerusalem Temple, adorned with "costly stones and votive offerings," Jesus delivers a shocking prophecy: "All that you see here—the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down."

To the Jewish people, the Temple was not merely a building; it was the dwelling place of God on earth, the heart of their worship, identity, and national security. It was the ultimate symbol of permanence and divine favor. In foretelling its destruction, Jesus was pulling the rug out from under their entire understanding of stability.

This passage speaks directly to us today. We, too, have our "temples"—the institutions, careers, relationships, health, and financial security we believe are unshakable. We invest our hearts and hopes in them, trusting they will not fail us. And then, life happens. A diagnosis comes, a job is lost, a relationship fractures, a global crisis erupts, or the Church itself is shaken by scandal and division. The stones of our personal and communal temples begin to crumble, and we are left feeling disoriented, fearful, and asking the same question as the disciples: "Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be?"

Jesus’ response is not the one we want. He does not provide a timeline or a simple escape plan. Instead, He offers a stark and realistic picture of the human condition: there will be wars, insurrections, earthquakes, famines, and plagues. There will be persecution, betrayal, and hatred "because of my name." He does not promise to spare us from the turmoil but to be with us in the midst of it.

This is the heart of our hope. The Christian life is not a guarantee against suffering; it is a promise of victory through it. Jesus shifts our focus from the external cataclysms to the internal fortress of our soul. He says, "It will lead to giving testimony." Our moments of greatest trial become our most powerful platform for witness. When we respond to hatred with love, to betrayal with forgiveness, and to despair with steadfast hope, we are not merely enduring; we are testifying to the power of Christ within us.

Most importantly, He gives us a promise that is the cornerstone of our faith: "Not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives."

This is not a promise of physical invincibility, for the martyrs He describes clearly suffered physically. It is a promise of the ultimate inviolability of our soul, our eternal life in Him. The world can take our possessions, our reputation, even our physical life, but it cannot touch our identity as beloved children of God, redeemed by Christ. Our true life—our soul—is held securely in the palm of God's hand.

So what are we to do?

Stop Clinging to Stones. We are called to a holy detachment from the passing things of this world. This doesn't mean we shouldn't appreciate beauty or build good things, but we must never mistake them for the ultimate foundation. Our security cannot be in the Temple, but in the God whom the Temple was meant to house.

Embrace the Promise of His Presence. In the chaos, Jesus tells us, "do not be terrified." Why? Because "I myself shall give you a wisdom in speaking." He is with us. In the courtroom, in the hospital, in the lonely night, in the heated argument—He is there, providing the grace we need for that precise moment.

Persevere. The key to securing our lives is not a brilliant strategy or a flawless escape, but simple, dogged perseverance—hypomonē in Greek, which means a patient, enduring, and active staying-power. It is the daily decision to get up, to pray, to receive the Sacraments, to love our neighbor, and to trust that God is in control, even when all evidence seems to the contrary.

The destruction of the Temple in 70 AD was not the end for the early Church; it was the beginning of its mission to the whole world. In the same way, the crumbling of our personal and worldly temples is not our end. It is an invitation—a painful but grace-filled one—to let go of what is temporary and to cling to what is eternal: Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever. He is the one foundation that, when everything else has fallen, will remain.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus, when the foundations of my world are shaken, be my rock and my refuge. When I am afraid of the wars and insurrections in my life and in the world, quiet my heart with the truth of your presence. Grant me the grace of perseverance, that I may not seek to simply escape trial, but to testify to your love within it. Help me to build my life not on passing stones, but on you, the eternal cornerstone. I trust in your promise that not a hair on my head is forgotten, and that my true life is secure in you. Amen.