About three years ago, I stood across from the UN building watching the activity. Security was high and tense, diplomats scurried back and forth, the press thronged. The vote to invade Iraq was about to be taken by the UN Security council. War was in the air; and as one diplomatic aide I had met with said, the decision to invade had really already been made. Today marks the third anniversary of war in Iraq. I have buried a soldier killed there, and lost a friend to its violence. Today, just as I did three years ago at the UN building, I shake my head wondering what will become of us. The temple scene is Jesus asking the same question, but following it up with action.
"Making a whip of cords, Jesus 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. He told those who were selling the doves, "Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father's house a marketplace!"
All four gospels tell this story of Jesus' rage. The synoptic gospels, that is Matthew, Mark and Luke set this story at the end, using it to put into motion the events that will lead Jesus immediately to his arrest and crucifixion. But the version we read from John sets it in the very beginning of Jesus' ministry. Jesus has been baptized, called the first disciples, changed water into wine at the wedding feast and now this. He is not yet in trouble up to this point, yet he chooses to upset the temple system which sets the stage very early on for what will define his ministry and his challenge to the political and religious systems of his time.
Jesus' rage is not as simple as getting mad at the sacrificial system that he witnesses, with people from all over buying their animals. It is not about selling in the temple, nor all the disruptive activities taking place. Here is some background to make sense of his rage: We are quite used to the idea of changing money when we travel to another country. We are more and more comfortable with the idea of modern banking that allows us to simply walk off the plant swipe our MAC card, and presto, money in a foreign currency. Gone are the days of notifying your bank of the foreign currency you needed before leaving this country. For the convenience we are accustomed to a small service charge tacked onto the exchange. It is not that big of a deal. But imagine if it were that kind of deal that stood in the way of our getting to God.
As an observant Jew, Jesus would make his pilgrimages to the temple in Jerusalem. During Passover, anyone who could possibly get to the temple was expected to do so in order to offer sacrifices. For this was how one met God. Originally the idea of sacrifice meant approach. You didn't just approach God empty handed. You brought a gift. A significant industry had grown up to support this requirement. Since people were traveling long distances it was simpler to buy the needed animals when they arrived. And all money needed to be changed into the proper temple currency. If the merchants charged a bit of a fee in order to provide these services, who could blame them? After all they were providing a means for people to approach God.
However, by the time of Jesus, this practice had degenerated. The outer circle of the temple known as the court of the gentiles had become a marketplace. It was filled with merchants hawking their sacrificial animals and the money changers shouting out their exchange rates. It was smelly with animals and weary travelers. And it had become a place where people were being taken for all they could be gotten for, because the animal sellers and money changers knew the worshipers had no choice. It was required that the faithful make this pilgrimage…and the merchants were their only ticket in. Something originally good and useful and become perverted and used for gain, blocking access to God.
It is that injustice that Jesus flies into a rage over. In John's gospel it defines his ministry. In turning over the tables, sending coins flying, and setting loose the animals, Jesus is symbolically overturning a religious and political system gone bad. He overturns systems that prevent all but the very rich and well connected from making it to the inner circle of the temple. Jesus tears down the rules that have been set up to block the poor and needy. His challenge could hardly be ignored by the Romans.
This story should disturb and challenge us. It reminds us the Jesus we follow is not a tame God. In "The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself," Dan Clendenin writes: "Think about your earliest memories and images of Jesus. If you are white, American and Protestant, you might visualize a painting by Warner Sallman, The Head of Jesus,--Jesus with flowing blond hair and blue eyes. Sallman's Jesus reproduced 500 million times according to one estimate, stares into space. He is clean, safe, and passive, which is perhaps why Christians have plastered this image in many a child's Sunday School classroom. It's hard to fathom why such a harmless and respectable looking citizen would ever be arrested, beaten to a pulp, and crucified by the establishment authorities; he wouldn't hurt a flea." Today's gospel reminds us that this depiction of Jesus is a far cry from Sallman's gentle depiction as Jesus rages in and overturns the temple system.
And we know that history does not deal kindly with those who challenge injustice; with those who attempt to dismantle systems and exploit and terrorize. March 24th is the anniversary of the assassination of Oscar Romero, the archbishop of El Salvador. Although originally a social and political conservative, Romero became one who spoke out against the injustices of the Salvadoran regime saying, " A church that suffers no persecution, but enjoys the privileges and support of the things of the earth-beware!" In a sermon the night before he was killed he uttered words that the government could not ignore: "In the name of God then, in the name of this suffering people I ask you, I beg you, I command you in the name of God: stop the repression." The next day he was murdered preparing to celebrate Mass.
We are called to follow this Jesus who gazes over what is; and dares to overturn and challenge the status quo that fosters injustice and oppression. We are called to follow sometimes even at great cost. Jesus also asks us to look inside and ask what might need to be first overturned from within…asking us about the roots of our angers, making sure it is anger rooted in love of God and neighbor that drives us to take action.
It is from that love of God and neighbor that we are sent out to disrupt the systems of injustice and power that block people's access to God. We are called to do so in both very public ways, and in private ways. In proclaiming ourselves as followers of Jesus we throw our lot in with the God of love and justice. We declare that we know the power of God's resurrection that triumphs over the powers of sin and evil and death. The words of our last hymn proclaim what we are sent out to do…listen to them:
We shall go out with hope of resurrection; we shall go out, from strength to strength go on; we shall go out and tell our stories boldly; tales of a love that will not let us go. We'll sing our songs of wrongs that can be righted; we'll dream our dreams of hurts that can be healed; we'll weave a cloth of all the world united;within the vision of new life in Christ.
We'll give a voice to those who have not spoken; we'll find the words for those whose lips are sealed; we'll make the tunes for those who sing no longer,
expressive love alive in every heart. We'll share our joy with those who still are weeping, raise hymns of strength for hearts that break in grief, we'll leap and dance the resurrection story, including all in circles of our love.