3 Lent

 

March 19, 2006

 

John 2.13-22

 

 

“Take these things out here! Stop making my Father’s house  a marketplace!”

 

This cry is part of the very vivid picture we have of Jesus in this morning’s Gospel.

 

This is not the meek and humble Jesus some of us have come to know—this is not the gentle and compassionate Lord who called the little children to himself.

 

It is, rather, the Jesus who stands up to injustice.

 

It is the Jesus who, when provoked, comes forward and cleanses the Temple.

 

“Take these things out here!”

 

This image of the chaotic market place, with all of its sounds and smells, is one we can easily imagine, even today.

 

In this place, the people who came to the Temple to worship God were being cheated constantly.

 

Foreign coins (with their images of pagan gods and rulers) were not allowed in the Temple, so on the porch, they had to be exchanged (at a ridiculously high rate) for shekels.

 

These were then used to buy animals—usually lambs—that could be sacrificed by the Temple priests for the release of sins.

 

If people brought their own animals, they were often inspected and told they were not worthy to be sacrificed because of blemishes or defects and were often refused.

 

Yet, despite the unfairness of all of this, Jews were expected to come to the Temple and make sacrifice there.

 

So, what we find here is a people being abused by the religious leaders they trust.

 

You can see why Jesus gets so mad over the situation.

 

“Take these things out here! Stop making my Father’s house  a marketplace!”

 

These are pretty strong words from Jesus.

 

And his action of driving out not only the guilty money-changers, but the innocent animals as well says a lot to us.

 

We no longer have to make these sacrifices.

 

Jesus becomes the ultimate Lamb—the one who was sacrificed once and for all on the altar of the Cross.

 

“Take these things out here! Stop making my Father’s house  a marketplace!”

 

This Temple that Jesus cleanses would not, for much longer, be God’s dwelling place.

 

Begun in about the year 20 B.C.. (or B.C.E.), it would be destroyed by the Romans about forty years after Jesus’ prediction.

 

More immediately, when Jesus talks about rebuilding the destroyed temple in three days, he is not talking about the building in which he stands at the moment.

 

Rather, he is referring to his own resurrection.

 

His body—a new and glorious Temple—would be destroyed,  yes, but in three days it would be rebuilt in a more glorious way than anyone could predict.

 

Still, we can’t quite ignore that resounding cry:

 

“Take these things out here! Stop making my Father’s house  a marketplace!”

 

To some extent, this is the rallying cry for all of us during these days of Lent.

 

The message for us—here and now—is not just about a building—or even this building in particular.

 

It is a message about the very temple of God that is our very body.

 

Now I’m going to mention something we Episcopalians shy away from in the pulpit—sin.

 

The fact is, we DO sin.

 

We are most profoundly aware of our own sins during this season of Lent, hopefully.

 

Sin is, to put it bluntly, a choice we make.

 

We choose to sin—we choose to turn away from what we know is right. That is, quite simply, what sin is.

 

We sin—we chose to do wrong—in many ways.

 

We sin against others, we sin against ourselves and we sin against God.

 

We sin against our bodies—that Temple in which God most profoundly dwells—in many ways.

 

We don’t exercise enough. We don’t eat right. We overindulge or we punish our bodies unnecessarily. We might drink a bit too much. We might eat too much. Or we might not eat enough.

 

We might have unhealthy and unrealistic self-images.

 

More than that, we are, at times, arrogant and conceited. We put ourselves first and foremost. In a sense, we make idols of our selves.

 

And we sin against each other.

 

We don’t respect those people who share our lives with us.

 

We backbite. We gossip. We turn away from others with a coldness and an indifference that distances us from those around us.

 

We don’t respect the worth and dignity of others.

 

The Quakers teach that doing wrong to others “wounds your own soul.”

 

And it does. How can we love ourselves with a holy and real love, if we don’t love others with that same love?

 

And, in turn, how can we love God with that same love if we don’t love others, or ourselves?

 

In a sense, we pollute our own temples with these thoughts and actions.

 

We commit sacrilege to our own temple—that very dwelling place of God—when we do these things.

 

This Lenten season is a time for us to recognize that it does not have to be this way.

 

It is a time for us to say to ourselves—see, I have fallen short in what I can do.

 

“Take these things out here! Stop making my Father’s house  a marketplace!”

 

We occasionally have to take a good, long look at ourselves and do some major housecleaning.

 

Like Jesus, we need to take up the rope and to start casting out from ourselves those things that make dirty our own sacredness.

 

But the message we can take away from this morning’s Gospel is that, sin as we may, turn away as we might, there is always a chance for cleansing and, in doing so, we can make right, in some way, the wrongs we have done.

 

The season of Lent isn’t a time for us to beat ourselves up over what we have done wrong.

 

It is a time for us to recognize our failures and to make an attempt to do better.

 

It is a time to take joy and delight in the fact that God dwells within each and every one of us.

 

This divine Presence within us is what ultimately renews us and makes us whole and holy.

 

It is what makes us tabernacles of the Most High.

 

It what makes each of us, like the Virgin Mary, a Theotokos, a God-bearer.

 

Like Mary, we too carry God within us.

 

And in doing so, God makes us holy.

 

So, be aware of uncleanliness of your actions and deeds.

 

Cast away your arrogance and your cold-heartedness.

 

Get angry, like Jesus, at the profanity that is being done within you.

 

And, like Jesus, cleanse the Temple of your self.

 

Let God dwell within you and shine through you with a brilliance that, no matter how hard you might try, you will not be able to hide.