There’s a holy tension in today’s readings – between the world as it is and the world as it shall be. Isaiah gives us a vision of new creation, where weeping is no more, where children live long lives, where peace reigns even among predators. And then Luke gives us a vision of destruction – temple stones thrown down, nations rising, persecution and betrayal.

For all of us, it’s tempting to choose one over the other. To cling to Isaiah’s beauty and ignore Luke’s warning. Or to dwell in Luke’s urgency and forget Isaiah’s promise. But the truth is: we live in the liminal – the space between. Between promise and fulfillment. Between suffering and restoration. Between the old creation and the new. In the here and now.

Isaiah begins with God’s declaration: “I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind” (Is 65:17). This is not just a renovation – it’s a re-creation. A world where joy is the default, not the exception. Where people build and inhabit, plant and eat, live and flourish.

“No more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,” Isaiah says, “or the cry of distress” (v.19). It’s a vision of justice, of abundance, of peace. And it’s not just for someday… it’s a glimpse of what God is already beginning to do.

Canticle 9 echoes this hope: “Surely it is God who saves me; I will trust in Him and not be afraid.” It’s a song of confidence, not because the world is easy, but because God is faithful. “Sing the praises of the Lord, for He has done great things,” the canticle says. And we sing not because everything is fixed, but because we trust the One who is making all things new.

But then we hear Paul’s voice in 2 Thessalonians. He’s writing to a community that’s confused about the end times. Some have stopped working, thinking the day of the Lord has already come. Others are idle, waiting for God to act. And Paul says, “Do not be weary in doing what is right” (2 Thess 3:13). He reminds them that hope is not an excuse for passivity. Hope is a call to faithful labor.

Paul’s words are practical, and some might even say blunt: “Anyone unwilling to work should not eat” (v.10). But beneath the sharpness is a deeper truth: the new creation is not built by waiting… it’s built by working. By showing up. By living with integrity. By refusing to grow weary.

And then we come to Jesus. In Luke 21, he stands in the temple, watching people marvel at its beauty. “All these things you see,” he says, “the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another” (Luke 21:6). It’s a shocking statement. The temple was the center of faith, the symbol of God’s presence. And Jesus says it will fall.

He speaks of wars, earthquakes, famines, and persecutions. But he also says, “Do not be terrified” (v.9). And then this: “By your endurance you will gain your souls” (v.19).

Jesus doesn’t promise escape – he promises presence. He doesn’t say we won’t suffer – he says we won’t be alone. “I will give you words and a wisdom,” he says, “that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict” (v.15).

Today we’re told through the texts that God is creating something new. Not just in the future, but now. Not just in heaven, but on earth. They tell us that we are called to live toward that new creation. Not by withdrawing, but by engaging. Not by waiting, but by working.

We hear a promise that the world will shake. Temples will fall. But God will not abandon us. Because for the faithful people of God, endurance is not just surviving—it’s trusting. It’s showing up. It’s living with hope when hope feels hard.

We are called to be people of the new creation. People who plant gardens even when the ground feels dry. People who build homes even when the future feels uncertain. People who sing even when the world groans. Because the new heavens and the new earth are not just a destination… they are a direction. And every act of love, every word of truth, every step of faith moves us closer.

So let’s not grow weary. Let’s not be afraid. And let’s live toward the new creation—with joy, with courage, with endurance. For surely it is God who saves us. And in God, all things shall be made new. Amen.