2026 Reading Plan Reflections - Day 38

Jesus’ words are stark. Not poetic. Not symbolic fluff. A warning spoken plainly. When I read this verse, my mind often goes to the Dome of the Rock on the Temple Mount. Built in the late 7th century, the Dome is one of the oldest surviving Islamic structures in the world. Its golden dome rises from the place where Israel’s Temple once stood—the center of worship, sacrifice, and identity for God’s covenant people.

Today, the Temple is gone. No stones left on another. Jesus’ words, fulfilled. It’s tempting to read that scene as a lesson about them—about Israel’s unfaithfulness, about history, about other religions occupying a once-sacred space. But Jesus didn’t speak these words to score points in a future religious debate. He spoke them to the disciples standing right next to Him. Men and women who assumed the Temple’s permanence meant God’s approval was guaranteed. And that’s where this gets uncomfortably close to home...

The deeper warning in Matthew 24 isn’t just that sacred buildings can fall. It’s that sacred things—even God-given ones—can be replaced when faith drifts from trust to transaction, from devotion to duty, from obedience to assumption.

The Temple wasn’t destroyed because stone is weak. It fell because the hearts meant to house God’s presence had slowly made room for substitutes. Put another way, the Temple wasn't destroyed because God withdrew His love, but because God refused to be reduced to a symbol.

And we are not immune to the same temptations. We may not have golden domes or ancient courtyards, but we have our own replacements:

• Activity instead of attentiveness to God
• Tradition instead of transformation
• Certainty instead of humility
• Influence instead of faithfulness
• Comfort instead of costly obedience

None of these are evil on their own. The Temple wasn’t evil either. But when good things take the place of God Himself, they eventually collapse under their own weight.

Jesus isn’t threatening demolition for shock value. He’s naming reality: anything we treat as untouchable—anything we assume God will protect regardless of our posture—can become an idol. And idols never stand forever.

The haunting question isn’t what happened on the Temple Mount. It’s what has happened in us.

What sacred spaces in your life have quietly been repurposed? What practices remain, but the presence has thinned? What structures still stand, but no longer serve their original purpose?

Jesus speaks not to condemn, but to wake us up—before the stones start falling.

Name the replacement. Ask God plainly: What good thing have I allowed to take Your place? Write it down. Don’t justify it.
Clear one space this week. Remove a distraction, a habit, or a commitment that crowds out prayer, Scripture, or obedience—even temporarily.
Pray a risky prayer. “God, if something in my life needs to fall so that You can reign more fully, give me the courage to let it go.”
Choose presence over permanence. This week, value attentiveness to God more than preserving what’s familiar.