“Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables.” — John 2
The people of Minnesota have given us some great things. Scotch tape
was invented there,
lutefisk (if you don't know what that is, you can check it
out on your Google machine here ), Garrison
Keillor, and the Mall of America. I once
had a conference in Minneapolis and we got some free time and went to the Mall
of America. We went there three days in
a row and walked, and walked, and walked. At the end of our last day, I looked at the
map of the mall and realized that in three days, we had only covered one tiny
portion. If you haven't seen it, you
can't imagine how big it is. 258 Statues
of Liberty could lie inside the Mall. If
Mount Rushmore was divided into individual monuments, a president could reside
in each of the Mall’s four courts. Annually, it is estimated the Mall of
America generates two billion dollars for Minnesota’s economy. Yeah. it's big.
In Jesus' time, the Temple in Jerusalem was one of the greatest malls
of its day. What began as a temple of
worship — a place of prayer — had become something quite different. It had become a shopping mall, bank,
government building, and revolutionary symbol all wrapped into one. And all of these were in the outer courtyard
of the temple.
What is it that caused Jesus to become so angry? It can only be one
thing: injustice. Have you ever bought
popcorn at the movies? Have you ever
filled your tank at a gas station right off the freeway? You know because of their location they're
going to charge you more. The merchants
in the temple had that all figured out, and they were the only game in town. The sacrificial system in the temple had
evolved, over the centuries, into an efficient machine for fleecing rich and
poor alike.
If you went on a pilgrimage
to Jerusalem, your goal was to sacrifice an animal, according to the Law of
Moses. You could bring your own sacrificial animal, of course, but if you came
from far away, it was easier to purchase a beast locally, at a steep markup. The law said you had to present a perfect
animal, without mark or blemish. Unless you purchased a pre-approved animal
within the temple precincts, you had to bring your offering before an
inspector, who would tell you whether or not it met the grade. And guess what?
The inspectors were in cahoots with the animal-sellers, who knew how to grease
their palms with silver. Rarely did they grant approval for a sacrificial
animal brought in from the outside.
There was something else. If you had journeyed from one of the lands of
the Jewish diaspora —
Greece, Egypt, Asia Minor, even distant Rome — the coins
jingling in your purse would have been imperial coins, engraved with the
Emperor's likeness. Such graven images violated the Second Commandment, and so
were forbidden within the temple precincts. In order to buy yourself a
sacrificial animal, you had to first exchange your Roman money for image-free
Judean coins. The money changers, who had a monopoly, charged exorbitant
commissions, but the poor pilgrims had no recourse. They got them coming and
going, those temple merchants.
You can see why when Jesus walked into that chaos of the free market,
he didn't see a house of prayer. he saw a den of thieves. It was not enough that Rome was oppressing
Israel. The leaders of Israel were oppressing their own people.
For the longest time I read this passage as Jesus losing his temper and
flying into a rage. But there is a detail in verse 15 that suggests this was a
more deliberate action that Jesus took time to prepare for. "Making a whip of cords" would take
some time and gathering of materials, wouldn't it? If Jesus had merely lost his temper, he would
have grabbed the nearest blunt object and started flailing away. But this detail suggests that there was a time
lapse between noticing the money changing going on and reacting to it. His followers and the people of Jerusalem were
all watching him. And he was going to teach a lesson.
And do you notice, that not a word was said, nor a hand raised against
him, as He poured out the
changers’ money, overthrew their tables, and drove
out the livestock. His Presence awed his
opponents, and the people who had been ripped off all their lives were on his
side. The only challenge his opponents
could come up was to ask him for a sign. A symbol of authority that gave him
the right to do all this. And Jesus replied, "Destroy this temple and in
three days I’ll raise it up."
Let’s just pause for a wonderful quote by Garrett Keizer: "I am
unable to commit to any messiah who doesn’t knock over tables." Don't you love that? [Garret Keizer in The
Enigma of Anger (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2004)]
Then came the calm aftermath spoken of in the Gospel of Matthew 21 —
Jesus began to teach every day in the temple and it says there were
"children who were crying in the temple, "Hosanna to the son of
David!" And since the temple officials couldn't win the argument, they
decided to become indignant about the kids, and in Matthew 21:16 said to him,
"Do you hear what these are saying?"
And a very calm Jesus replies, "Yes. Did you never read, 'Out of
the mouth of babes and nursing babies you have perfected praise?'" Oh, don't you know that ticked them off!
Former Presiding Bishop John E. Hines said it's so well: “They did not
crucify Jesus for saying ‘Behold the lilies of the field, how they grow.’ They
crucified him for saying, ‘Consider the thieves of the temple, and how they
steal.’”
Do you think what happened to the Jewish Temple could ever happen to
us? How would we know if we've stopped
being the Church and become a mall? I've
sometimes heard people say, "The Church needs to be run more like a
business." It isn't that we can’t
take some lessons from business, but when we make business our model I think
we're in trouble. When we judge our
success as a church the same way Apple does, we've got a problem. John's first readers would have known that
the temple was already a smoking crater by the time they read his gospel, since
it was destroyed by the Romans in A.D. 70.
Jesus' words and actions were thus not only prophetic, but a stark
reminder that any institution that claims to be of God is doomed to failure if
it refuses to pay attention to God's own core purpose and values. Jesus' action in the Temple this morning challenges
us to look at Trinity to determine whether we're being faithful to his call, or
whether like the Temple in Jerusalem, we’re due for some table flipping. some
spring cleaning. For example:
· Do we measure the church's success like a business? Are we so focused
on our attendance figures, buildings, budget, programs, that we fail to
question whether we're doing what Jesus wants?
· Do we talk in our meetings more about property and budgets or about
people and what we are doing and can do for people within our walls and outside
our walls?
· Do we avoid the risk of being prophetic and challenging people with the
Gospel of the Kingdom, and instead play it safe and not talk about
controversial subjects? About justice for the poor and a living wage and
fairness for workers; equality in our nation for women, people of color,
immigrants, gays and lesbians; and safety for all our children from pollution,
global warming, and gun violence?
· Have we started to look to human beings to take care of all of our
problems and make this church what we want it to be. Instead of we ourselves
truly becoming disciples of the Christ the way Jesus intended to change the
world, do we sit back and look to the Vestry. or the priests. or our new rector
to solve everything?
We don't need to be able to answer each one of those questions, but I
think we do need to keep asking them. As
long as we keep our eyes focused on the one who said, "My house shall be
called a house of prayer for all the nations." and keep asking those
questions, I think we're on the right track.
The noise in the outer courtyard must have been deafening: Moneychangers
and merchants haggling, sheep baa'aing, cattle mooing, doves cooing, people
talking, laughing, getting upset with each other. Jesus stopped all that in today's Gospel, and
what was left was a silence so profound that the people there could hear the
voices of the children crying in the temple, "Hosanna to the son of
David!"
In the very deepest room of the temple. The Holy of Holies. was the Ark
of the Covenant. The High Priest only
went in there once a year. Arching over
the mercy seat were two cherubim, their golden wings reaching toward each other
at the top. But the mercy seat itself was empty. Yet it was that space that was
considered the very presence of the Almighty.
Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury talks about this
emptiness: "The cherubim did not reside on the mercy seat. God's presence
was nowhere portrayed within this "Holy of Holies" — or anywhere else
within the temple. All that greeted the high priest was a blank slab of open
space, a void, "the great speaking absence between the images".
Lent is a time of stripping away of all the noise — letting go of
things that are holding us back from life, real life. Before we can be ready for the joy of Easter,
we take this time to examine ourselves, to examine our church, and to seek the
silence between the wings of the cherubim.