3rd Sunday of Lent
My
older kids and I went to see Black Panther after church last Sunday. I have to confess: it was one of those movies
that I enjoyed so much, I want to make every sermon illustration a Black
Panther reference. I won’t; I know
you’re not always into the same things I am.
So I won’t but I will say this: there is a part of the film where the
hero is down, and even though you’re not sure how he’s going to do it, the hero
stands up. I don’t think that’s a
spoiler. Every movie with a hero in it
since at least the old westerns has had that moment where the hero finally
stands up. Whether it’s Clark Kent
loosening his tie so Superman can show up or it’s Rocky Balboa literally
getting up so he can heroically get punched in the face some more. These movies all have that moment where the
hero stands up.
I
wonder if we read this Bible story as a moment like that. Mild-mannered Jesus—our hero, but usually
just keeps his fighting to words—is finally standing up to take care of
business. Finally he is standing up to
the hypocrisy of the religious leaders; finally he’s standing up to those who
would make a profit off of the needs of the faithful; finally he’s standing up
for those on the outside who have no voice of their own.
In
a way, I think that is exactly what Jesus is doing, especially as the other
Gospel writers tell it. Maybe not so
much in Gospel of John. I mean, first of
all: in John, Jesus isn’t “finally” doing anything; this is just chapter
two. But also, in the Gospel of John, this
is the thing that sets his crucifixion in motion. More than standing up to the religious
establishment, Jesus seems to be setting himself up to be knocked down; all the
way down; down to the Cross; down to the grave.
And here’s a spoiler alert for you: he stands back up.
So
as I’ve already implied, this story about Jesus causing a ruckus in the Temple
is one of those unique stories that is told in all four of our Gospels. Clearly, this story is important both
historically, in the telling of Jesus’ story, but also theologically as we seek
to understand what this story tells us about Jesus. The problem is, as I’ve also implied, that
point varies from Gospel to Gospel. For
example, in the Gospel of Mark (where this story is told much later on), Jesus
seems to be reacting to price gouging and the exploitation of the
gentiles. But in John, Jesus seems to be
protecting the sanctity of the Temple; as though conducting commerce is beneath
the dignity of the Temple courts. Jesus
says, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!”
The
great thing about this story is that we can cheer Jesus on in it, right? I mean, he’s not yelling at us this time,
right? We’re not selling sacrificial
livestock in here; we’re not making change in here; we don’t even put up
boundaries where some people can go and others can’t, everybody is welcome
everywhere. This story is about someone
else, right? You tell ‘em, Jesus! Which is not to say that I don’t feel for
them; for the religious leaders. In
fact, if I think about it a bit, I have to admit that in a similar situation I
might have done the same thing.
Notice,
John tells us at the start that this happens right before Passover; that’s an
important thing to note because that would have made the Temple a very busy
place. This was their big day; as big as
Easter is for us, their big day was Passover.
The Temple would be jumping. The
faithful from all over the known world would cram into Jerusalem and make their
way to the Temple. People would be there
that you might only see once, maybe twice a year. I don’t know about you, but I get a little
excited on days like that; when this place is packed; I get excited about the prospect of this place being
packed. I say things like, “Park a
little farther away so visitors can find a spot. Maybe sit over here in the annex so visitors
can better see what’s going on.”
When
I take a step back, I understand what they were doing; and I have to say, I
can’t say I blame them. People are
coming from all over, they can’t be expected to bring their sacrificial animals
all the way from Asia Minor, and Europe, and Africa. “We can make it as convenient for you as
possible: we have sheep, just buy one when you get here. By the way, your Roman currency with the
Emperor’s face on it; that’s idolatrous so you can’t use it in the Temple. But we’ve got you covered there too! The money changers over here will take good
care of you. And we won’t talk about sin. And of course child care is provided. And, oh look, there’s a Starbucks right here
in the Temple.”
You
can almost hear the Temple leaders admit that they knew they’d gone too far. After Jesus makes a ruckus, they don’t ask
him, “Why did you do that?” They
know. They ask him, “What sign can you
show us for doing this?” They understand
why; they just want to know where he gets the nerve to call them on it.
I
get it: I get excited too. The prospect
of a growing, vibrant, busy, active church excites me; and I know I’m not the
only one. There were a whole bunch of us
here last Saturday. These are exciting
times for us and rightfully so. The
Spirit has filled us with dreams, and energy, and plans and it’s wonderful. We are going places and we are primed to be a
busy church. This is exciting; this is
us striving to be faithful to God’s call.
But I’m a Presbyterian; I’m one of the few Presbyterians in this church,
as it turns out. Our job is to tap the
brakes sometimes; that’s what committees are for. We want to move forward, but we don’t want to
spin out of control either. As a church,
we are listening to God’s call, we are moving in exciting directions, and my
only caution is: in our excitement, let’s not start anything that would make
Jesus chase us around with a whip. And
to help us with this, Jesus gives us an image of what it means to be his
church: that we are his Body.
They
ask Jesus for a sign and, un-surprisingly, he says something surprising: he
says, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” As a church
that is celebrating its 120th birthday this year, this might
rightfully make us nervous; but he’s not talking about the building, is
he? He’s talking about his body, but
he’s talking about it in the same way one would speak about the Temple.
When
I hear Jesus talk like this, the first thing I’m struck by is how
often we do the opposite. When we speak of the church, our temple, we
usually mean the building. I tell my
family that I’m heading off to church and they know what I mean; I mean I’m
heading to my office. They stand at the
window and wave, knowing that I can be found somewhere in this building if they
need me. But Jesus means a person: Jesus
is our Temple, and his church are the people that make up this Body of
Christ.
With
that in mind, let’s look again at what it is that makes Jesus so fighting mad: what
so angers Jesus—angry enough to chase animals and people with a whip—is that
they are abusing that Body; their own Body; the Temple of the Lord. In their excitement, they compromised their spiritual
health. They substituted what was good
for them with what was easy. Rather than
seeking what God wanted for them, they settled with what served their needs.
Here
at this Table, we are shown a better way.
here we are called to be the very Temple of our Lord, the very Body of
Christ. Here we are reminded that this
church does not belong to us because this church is made up of the bodies that
Christ has redeemed. Here we are shaped
by his example of self-giving love; an example that seeks the good of all, and
not just what is easy; an example that seeks not to be served, but to serve; an
example of a love that lays down its life for the sake of the world in the hope
that the power of God will indeed raise it up again.
I
was telling my friend Stan the other day that, what excites me the most about
the things going on around here, is that it hasn’t been about us. There may have been a time when our
conversations were about membership declines and financial concerns, but
somewhere along the line something changed in us. Lately, as we talk about our church, we talk
in terms of being the Body Christ intends for us to be. We talk about meeting more just our immediate
needs, but our community’s desperate need for a Savior. We look at who we are as a church, and
without discouragement or fear, we envision what God might do through us to
bring salvation to this world.
Let us continue to strive to be the
very Body of Christ in this world; and may we keep our Savior’s example of love
and sacrifice always before us.
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