Sermon by Walter G. Edmonds
Damascus United Methodist Church
Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; I Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2:13-22
Third Sunday in Lent - March 15, 2009
The Gospel lesson for this day from St. John 2 is one story that appears in all four Gospels in the Good Book. The story of Jesus’ turning over the tables, removing the cattle with a whip, and pouring the money coins on to the ground in the outer court of the temple, remains the most violent depiction of our Lord’s conduct in the canonized scriptures. All kinds of words are given to his severe removal of the merchants and their property: anger, disgust, act of justice, rebuking, repulsive negating of evil, hate for usury. Whatever term to be chosen, it becomes necessary to examine why our Lord of love and grace, reacted so vehemently to what may appear as only merchants attempting to be helpful in the worship preparation for the sacrifices made at the temple altar.
Let’s regroup as we hear John’s retelling of the cleansing of the temple. First of all, John tells this story at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, that is, the first of the journeys into Jerusalem, the first of the three pilgrimages to the Holy Temple recorded in John’s Gospel. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the Synoptic Gospels, or the ones written in similar style, this brash event occurs right after Palm Sunday and only days before the trials and crucifixion. In these three Gospels, the driving out of the merchants is considered to be the breaking point for the Sanhedrin, the temple council, who after Jesus’ rampage in the outer court, decide he must be seized, tried and convicted, and taken to Pilate for a death sentence. John’s Gospel does not suggest that meaning. The meaning we find in this last Gospel is connected more with Jesus’ true abhorrence of such activity being conducted within the close proximity of the holy space and its impinging effect on the place he called the oikos (pronounced ee-kos) of the abba, the “home of the daddy.”
We must stop to gain perspective. To most of us we see the ancient Temple as a formal structure to house the worship activities of the Hebrews and the Jews. We view the structure as a place for prayer, yes, but more for formal worship with ornate rituals that had their prescribed behavior and carried meaning for the entire state of the community, but nevertheless, a formalized house or auditorium complex. This is not the meaning the Temple held for Jesus, for the choice of the Greek word oikos captures the affection and identity Jesus experienced and cherished in the Temple in Jerusalem. Oikos is an every day word, informal but powerfully tender, meaning home or humble abiding place. Oikos is the kind of word that suggests “the going home to be with your mother or your father,” or the most beloved in your life, as in the Christmas songs, “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” or “I’ll have a Blue Christmas without You.” Oikos holds that power of desiring to be restored to your roots, after war or suffering separation, to be in that absolutely freeing presence of love and acceptance that acts as a womb or a shelter.
For Jesus the Temple in Jerusalem was the perfect home for being with His daddy. Not to over-do-it, but casting it in a more comprehending picture: coming to the front steps of the altar of sacrifice in the temple courtyard and smelling the aroma of roasting lamb, was like opening the door at mom and dad’s home and smelling the turkey on Thanksgiving at noon, knowing that you were about to feast with those you love the most, and share their most precious gifts and presence with eyes, lips hands and stomachs. That’s the way we must understand the Temple in Jesus’ mind and heart. Yes, Jesus knew that the God presence was in essence Spirit, just as we do. But Jesus also knew, as we do, that this heavenly presence makes itself mysteriously known in the everyday vessels that feed our every sense. As the fourth commandment of today’s reading from Exodus 20 in the Old Testament reveals and reminds us, “Keeping the Sabbath in God’s presence and therefore God’s home” is what refreshes us, rejuvenates us, rebuilds us, and restores us. Without “home with our spiritual daddy or mommy,” life slowly erodes, separates us, and puts us on a path that is extremely lonely, and in the long run, becomes ruinous. Oikos bears all that weight and meaning, and must find its holy place in our bodies, minds and spirits.
The second thought we need to bear in mind about this story has to do with the Greek word emporio (pronounced e-bor-ee-o), a word from which our English word emporium comes from. The word emporio means market or exchange, which in itself seems innocuous. This is the word that is given to the money exchangers and sellers in the front court of the temple in the St. John passage. However, the word emporio in Greek has a very negative meaning, and has so for both the Jews and the Greeks. It implies people who cannot do the real thing, that is, “raise the animals, grow the crops, gather the fruit.” People who worked in an emporio were considered to be lazy, to have no impulse to work or to create, in fact, they were considered misfits who wasted or ignored their gifts and sponged off the rest of the community. They were considered to be one step away from tax collectors, and two steps away from prostitutes. Now having that understanding, listen again to the words from St. John, as Jesus addresses those who are only a few feet away from the altar of sacrifice. Verse 16 states, “He told those who were selling the doves, ‘Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” Stop making my abba Father’s oikos a disgusting emporio (e-bor-ee-o). Stop making my daddy’s home a cheap pander- house! Now we begin to conceive of the righteous wrath that must have been in Jesus’ heart as he watched these people debase the “sacred home,” that he loved beyond measure, that he had loved since he was at least twelve years old when he came with his parents to be blessed as a young man of God.
Bible scholars tell us several things that add fuel to the fire. Money changers were necessary in the Hebrew system, because the money of Rome had engraved images and sometimes captions declaring the divinity of the Caesars. This was so offensive to Jewish leaders that they produced their own money that needed to be used to pay the temple tax of a half shekel. Also, the buying of animals, a necessity for those coming a far distance for the holidays (we might view it as a farmers’ market) had been located nearby in the Kidron Valley or on the slopes of the Mount of Olives, but not in the Temple. Evidence in the Mishnah suggests it was Caiaphas, the High Priest, who more recently brought the market into the outer courts- who knows, as a money maker? Whatever the reason, one can see why Jesus’ love for his Father’s house, most personally, his daddy’s home, was being attacked by this maraudery of merchants. (Much of this information came from The Lectionary Commentary: The Gospels; Scott Black Johnston; p.493)
The prophet Malachi had predicted that, “The Lord will suddenly come to his temple … He will be like a refiner’s fire and a launderer’s soap … He will purify the Levites (the priests), and refine them like gold.” (Phrases from Malachi 3: 1-4) Zechariah also speaks of a day when there would no longer be any merchant in the temple precincts. In his last verse of the book, he writes, “Every pot in Jerusalem and Judah will be holy to the Lord Almighty, and all who come to sacrifice will take some of the pots and cook in them. And on that day there will no longer be a merchant in the house of the Lord Almighty.” (Zechariah 14: 21)
These scriptures confirm the actions of Jesus in today’s Gospel. Zeal was in his heart for the “home of his daddy.” He could no longer restrain himself, seeing what even the caretakers of this Holy House were allowing to be done inside the Holy walls. Jesus had been on his way to the Temple to ready himself for the Passover with some purification rituals, so the marketing in the outer court must have literally “pushed him over the edge.” Loving the place where you enter to pray and be at one with the abba, and finding instead the racket of emporio (e-bor-ee-o) caused our Master, to clear God’s House, and set right the stage that eventually led to his trial and death, two or three years before, or two or three days before.
What must we do with this poignant story? Lent provides us with a gut-check about our accustomed daily life. Are we no longer bothered by the things people do to destroy the Sabbath? Are we content to let others talk us into dropping into worship when it fits our plans? Are we disposed to making Wednesday night dinners or Sunday School classes substitutes for Sabbath Worship and Eucharist? Do we let other community activities from washing cars to being in plays somehow become as redeemable as worshipping Jesus Christ with our family, neighbors, and the Body of faith? Do we hold on to these walls and this room as the oikos (ee-kos) for the abba Father, where we know this sanctuary as the “home for our souls?” How do we protect ourselves from all those who would cheapen its life, and reduce the worship of Jesus Christ into mere ritual?
These kinds of questions come to us as we fully take in the story of Jesus casting out the merchants, animals, and money changers from the Holy Temple. These kind of questions need to prod us to stand up against those things that threaten or diminish the presence of our God in our lives, in our families in our community, yes even in this temple building of prayer and worship. These kinds of questions are at the heart of Sabbath keeping.
Jesus the Christ has given us the zeal for the abba Father’s loving presence in our lives. And Jesus the Christ has given us the example of authority to keep our “Home in Him” clean and pure and holy. Let us be diligent in this endeavor as Lent continues.
