John 2:13-25. (February 8, 2015)
I.
Jesus
and his disciples go to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. When he gets to the Temple he finds that
it has been turned into a noisy marketplace. There are bankers who have installed themselves in the
precinct for the purpose of exchanging idolatrous Roman coins for Jewish coins
which were suitable for people to use at other booths to buy birds and animals
for sacrifice.
This
enrages Jesus so much that it inspires his one act of semi-violence in his
whole life. Making a whip, he
drives the animals out, and then he overturns the tables of the bankers. He makes quite a commotion. And he says, “Get these things out of
here! Don’t make my Father’s house
a place of business!” He does not
want his Father’s house made into a marketplace.
What
is his problem? Sacrifices are
mandated in the Bible, and they had to take place in Jerusalem, which means
that people had to travel. Since,
it was inconvenient to haul birds and animals on long trips; it made more sense
to buy an animal when they got to Jerusalem. But the Roman coins that everybody had couldn’t be used in
the Temple because Caesar’s face was on them and the Bible rejected such graven
images. So people had to change it
for Jewish money. And it was only
reasonable that this happen in the Temple complex, rather than in the city
where it was harder to control things.
And people cannot be expected to provide these services for free, they
have to make a living. Therefore, profits
should be made on these enterprises.
Right?
I
mean, what does Jesus want to do?
Get rid of animal sacrifices altogether? Is anything more solidly biblical than animal sacrifices? Then, frankly, there is the practical
matter of the whole economy of Jerusalem and Judea to consider, which was built
on the spending of pilgrims who came to worship at the magnificent Temple.
Jesus’
problem is that the point of the Temple and its ceremonial complex was to take
away sin. It was to restore
humanity to its original, blessed, good, whole condition, united to God, to
creation, and to each other. It is
a free gift of grace to which humans respond in gratitude and joyful
obedience. But can sin be taken
away this way? Faith in God had
been twisted into a racket designed to fill the pockets and maintain the power
of the elite.
The
Temple was not doing what it was supposed to do. In fact, it was doing the opposite. Instead of
taking away sin, it was compounding
sin. Instead of reconciling people
to God and each other, it was driving them further apart. It had been turned from a place of
prayer to a place of business.
Worse
still, it was compounding sin while making people think it was taking sin away. It’s like taking medicine that you think will make you
better, but is really making you worse.
II.
So
the Temple authorities ask Jesus, “What is your authority for doing this? What miraculous sign will you show us”
to prove that you have the right to make this disturbance? The only thing that might possibly overrule the entrenched Temple
system would be some incontrovertible miracle from God. And the Temple leaders knew this was
not going to happen.
But
that is in the end what happens. For now, though, Jesus says, Here’s my
miraculous sign for you: “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it
up.”
Of
course, the Temple executives take him literally. They think he’s talking about the actual, physical Temple,
which has taken forty-six years to build.
They hear him saying they should somehow allow the gleaming, stone
edifice to be dismantled and demolished, and that he will then personally and
miraculously reassemble every block, brick, and rafter, neatly in place. Using the Force, like Yoda, I guess.
Last week Jesus transformed the
exhausted faith of the people into
powerful new wine. Now he goes to
the heart of the religious institution of his people. And he sees that it is corrupt, ineffectual, and dead. All that’s left are the commercial
vultures picking at its carcass. Unless
they are open, light, and flexible enough to keep receiving the refreshing breath
of the Spirit, religious institutions tend to become just dead weight. They spawn leaders and hierarchies and
rules and budgets and bureaucracies and procedures. And then they seek mainly to preserve themselves at all costs.
Institutions
seem inevitably to morph into markets, places of commerce, areas in which money
comes into power. Because all
those leaders and hierarchies and rules and budgets and bureaucracies and
procedures don’t come cheap. They
have to be paid for. And the money has to come from the
people who are actually producing something,
generally. So the leaders of
institutions have to develop some tactics for convincing or compelling people
to give their money to support them.
Hence the whole rigamaroll of buying and exchanging that people had to
pass through before they could worship in the Temple.
And
a market, a place of business, is the polar opposite of the zone of grace,
forgiveness, redemption, equality, freedom, and liberation that the Temple was
originally supposed to be. The
Temple that Jesus found was upside-down. It had become a gauntlet of haggling, interest, accounting,
scarcity, lies, and swindling. It
had taken what God gives freely to all, and put price tags on it.
III.
When
Jesus tells the officials that he will raise up “this temple” after its destruction,
in effect he is saying, “I am the
true Temple. My body is the real Temple. And after you destroy this temple, that
is, after you kill me, I will rise up
after three days.”
Now
the new Temple, the real Temple, is “the Lamb of God who
takes away the sin of the world.” In
place of these living sheep that Jesus stampeded out the door, the shedding of
whose blood was not working anymore, he puts himself. The people’s relationship with God, creation, and others,
was not being healed. Their
alienation and sin was not being repaired. That is something a market, as a battlefield of competing
self-interest, cannot ever do.
But
this reconciliation will happen in the ultimate sign that Jesus predicts, which
is his own death and resurrection.
He takes away the sin of the world, not by buying and selling, but by
dying and rising up again. He
carries our sin, our brokenness, our hatreds and fears and selfishness, our
shame and anger, in his body, which is the same body we have, made of the same
stuff. And he immolates all that
on the cross, vaporizing it, and revealing it to be the nothing that it
is. And he gives us God’s own new,
eternal life of love, and pours that into our hearts in his resurrection.
It
is his death and resurrection that reveal that he is the new, true, final
Temple. Unlike the Temple that
failed to do its job, Jesus will himself lead his people through death to new life.
That is the only way to new
life.
Not
through propping up an institution that was actually dead but didn’t know it,
and was now nothing more than a cynical cash-cow for the elites. But through the transformation which requires that we die to our old fearful selves
caught in addiction to violence, selfishness, and suspicion, so we can be
reborn on the other side, a place of light and life, joy and grace, healing and
liberation.
The
true test of anything is whether it actually accomplishes its purpose. In terms of the Temple: does it heal
people? Does what goes on there
take away sin? Do people find
reconnection and wholeness? Do they
emerge from the place reconciled to God, creation, and their neighbors? Are their broken souls restored to
integrity and unity? Or do they
come away from the place with little more than souvenirs? Trinkets and a t-shirt? Some pictures?
That
is a tough standard but it has to be applied to churches as well. Are we better people, are we more
grounded and together, are we more healthy and strong, are we more peaceful,
forgiving, compassionate, open, joyful, and loving because we came to church
this morning? How can we continue
to improve our gathering so that it is more apparent and more likely that we
will be made better by coming here?
IV.
Jesus’
ministry is not a Temple-reform movement.
He is not trying to apply principles of adaptive change to the religious
institutions of his day. He comes
not to reform but to replace the
Temple with himself… and by so doing
reveal that the true Temple, the true place where we meet, worship, hear from,
and respond to God is… everywhere. He is the Word through whom everything
was made. In him the whole creation is his Father’s
house.
His
body is not just his historical, mortal flesh but now given to us
sacramentally, so that we literally become
him. The gathering of his
disciples, the church, is now his body. Paul says that therefore now each of
our bodies is a temple, a holy space where we encounter God. The Lamb is the Temple who gives himself
to us making us the Temple. And the blood of the Lamb of God, his
divine life, becomes the life of the whole world.
Now
the words, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace,” mean that in God’s
eyes nothing is for sale; nothing is reduced to a dead commodity; nothing is
considered only for its exchange value.
The whole place has already been bought with a price. Jesus, the Lamb of God, reveals the truth
of Psalm 24: “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, the world and
all those who dwell therein.” And
it is all free. Unencumbered. Priceless. +++++++
No comments:
Post a Comment