Turning the Tables

Jesus turns the tables to put things right. Obviously, I’m still working on the Temple Incident recorded in John 2. Doing a first-person sermon as Nicodemus is fun and has some value. But it’s also a way to punt on the real repentance issues in this text.

The systems of White Male Supremacy that structure white Christianity are not going down without a fight. It would be easy for us white liberal Christians if the whole issue were Franklin Graham leveraging his Operation Christmas mailing lists to fear-monger his racist, xenophobic, homophobic bullshit. If only the tables to be turned belonged exclusively to those “other white folks,” this would all be so much easier.

But it’s our tables that need turning as well. Jesus turns the tables to put things right. In John 2, Jesus is clearing away the obstacles to abundant life. That climaxes in a few weeks with his welcome to outsiders in John 12. It is this boundary-busting welcome that provides the final step toward his glorification on the cross. It’s when the outsiders want in that the reign of God fully arrives in John.

Nobody really wants that kind of talk in our white, mainline churches. We don’t want to go and talk to people in our neighborhoods who don’t already belong to our churches. We don’t want to keep doing hybrid worship – both in person and online – once The Pandemic has passed. That was just an expedient to keep our insiders inside. We don’t want to take nonmembers into account when we make plans for our property that might affect them. We don’t want our tables to be turned in such a way that we are guests and Jesus is the host.

That’s all crazy talk, we think. If we go down that path, we’ll end up turning over tables just like that nut from Nazareth. If we start tossing money around like it belongs to the poor people, where will it end? After all, somebody has to pay the bills to keep the Temple in business, right?

We white folks have made God’s houses into spiritual shopping malls where we sell comfort to the comfortable, serenity to the settlers, and peace to the privileged. As long as they are paying the bills, we’ll keep selling the goods. And after a while, the last one left can turn out the lights.

Jesus turns the tables to put things right. When that happens, the system responds with violence. Abundant life disrupts the power of scarcity. Bigger pies are harder to manage and manipulate for personal gain. Good news for the poor is, at least in the short term, bad news for the rich. Zeal for God’s house will consume us, we’re afraid. So we set the tables back up almost as fast as Jesus turns them over.

Jesus isn’t arrested at the moment he enacts havoc, because the crowd approves of what he does. It’s only the powerful, the privileged, and the propertied who get their underwear in a bunch about the difference between a demonstration, a protest, and a riot. Jesus enacts a symbolic prophetic sign, but he turns over real tables, scatters real money, chases real livestock. When we spiritualize this into some merely verbal protest against a religious system, we let ourselves off the hook.

But Jesus enacts the nightmare of every entrenched power structure. The crowd might see the Matrix, might wake up from the nightmare, might come to know that the system was created by and for the privileged, rigged for the rich. The goal of the system is to make sure that poor, white men continue to blame anyone but rich white men. In our system, race makes that identification easier. So that’s where we start the turning.

Jesus turns the tables to put things right. What must be overturned in the Church to put things right?

Before we jump to that, let’s start with me. I need my tables turned regularly. For example, I was in a conversation not long ago where a Black pastor reminded us of the ways in which White Christians have debased and destroyed Black communities. He wasn’t particularly aggressive in his comments. He simply told the truth without padding it for us white folks. I was grateful for the candor (sort of).

I didn’t hear one thing I hadn’t heard or read before. Yet, I felt my face get hot. I felt my head begin to shake. My guts started vibrating in rhythm with my lower jaw. In response to just the slightest honest input, I was ready to tip into a full-blown shame storm. To compound my response, I was then ashamed for being ashamed.

That response won’t do. But it’s necessary. “For through the law I died to the law,” Paul writes in Galatians 2:19-20, “so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” I don’t like having my ego crucified any more than anyone else does. But there’s no real life without that death.

For me, turning the tables means spending more time hearing face to face from my Black, Brown, Native, and Asian American siblings. It’s not up to them to educate and reform me. That’s my work and our white folks work together. I need to continue to render myself less dangerous and more resilient in such conversations. And I look forward to opportunities not merely to become a better person but to work as a partner with my siblings in ways to make our community better.

And then there’s the Church. Jesus turns the tables to put things right. We are called to overturn the “White Liberal Limbo” game. That is the game where we ask, “How slowwwwwww can we gooooooo?” As long as we give the most fragile folks veto power over constructive change, we will continue to maintain our systems of white male supremacy. If congregations die doing the right thing, that’s faithfulness. The alternative at this point is to be whitewashed tombs filled with the bones of people who don’t know they’re dead already.

I believe that in the coming decades we’re going to end up with a number of church buildings and other properties that will simply stand empty because all the white people have either died or left. Let’s make plans now to give those properties to cheated communities or to sell them and repay the proceeds to those communities. I know we white liberals are happy about justice until it starts to cost us money. But the tables of the moneychangers must be overturned if we White folks are to be freely and fully human.

It’s easy to write that knowing that reparations are unlikely to happen on any scale in my lifetime. Talk is cheap. So, we are establishing a Reparations Repayment Calendar at our house. We will give money to a number of organizations and causes that advance the agendas of racial justice and repair. From our perspective, these are not “donations” (although the IRS would regard them as such). These are repayments of debts owed for centuries.

For example, in honor of the Great Three Days of Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter, we will give to the NAACP Legal Defense fund and to a local bail relief fund. Jesus was crucified between two thieves. He went and preached to the spirits who were in prison. The stone is rolled away, and the jail cell of the tomb is empty. We see a connection.

On Thanksgiving, we will give to the Omaha tribal organization. Our house stands on Omaha land. It is only ours because of the original theft based on the Christian “Doctrine of Discovery.” We can be grateful for how the land was loved and stewarded before we got here. And we can begin to make legitimate payments for the damage we have done to Native communities. We see a connection.

In Epiphany, we remember that the Wise Ones came “from the East.” We can give to the the ELCA’s Association of Lutherans of Arab and Middle Eastern Heritage. The strategy for that mission in our church is chronically underfunded, and we can make some small gift to address that need. During Lent we can direct our offerings to the Urban League of Omaha, since Dr. King’s birthday almost always falls during that liturgical season.

We can give a Pentecost offering to a Latinx-related cause in honor of Cinco de Mayo. In February we can support a cause focused on the concerns of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, since that’s about the time of the Chinese New Year.

You can see where we’re headed with this. It will be a work in progress. It will not be a substitute for any other efforts toward education, advocacy, support, growth, and further repentance. But it will be, we hope, a way to make “table-turning” a part of our ongoing rhythms of faith and life.

Right now, however, there’s something of particular urgency. Our racist former president has stoked the fires of hatred against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. The number of hate crimes against the AAPI communities has skyrocketed in the last year. In response, the AAPI Association in the ELCA drafted a statement that was approved within hours by the ELCA conference of bishops. You can read that statement here.

In addition, plans are being made to make March 21 a Sunday of prayer and lament in our churches around this disgusting rhetoric and related crimes. That’s not likely to be the most popular thing a pastor or other leaders have ever advocated. But it’s a way to set a few things a little closer to right.

Jesus turns the tables to put things right. In this Lenten season, we are called to be turned and to turn. How will we answer?

Under (De)Construction

How would you respond when everything you thought you knew is called into question? What happens when everything you believed about God begins to crumble? The fancy, academic word for that process is “deconstruction.” In our time, lots of Christians are experiencing this disorienting, destabilizing, distressing process.

I’m one of those Christians.

What are some of the deconstructing data I’ve learned about myself, my Church, my theology, and my country over the last ten years?

I participate in and benefit from a pervasive and centuries-old system of white male supremacy.
That system is built into the founding documents of our nation and has been supported and strengthened by such leading lights as Abraham Lincoln, FDR, and JFK.
The Church to which I’ve devoted my adult life helped to create and underwrite the imperial ideology, the racist constructions, and the Doctrine of Discovery which form the foundations of that system.
Every element of my life, my identity, and the institutions of which I am a part is not only infected with that system but continues to resist any and all efforts at reform and restructuring to remedy and repair the effects of that system.
And the overwhelming majority of my white co-religionists think I’m delusional and making it all up when I engage with and believe the things in this list.

That’s not everything, but you get the idea. One part of deconstruction is identifying and dismantling the myths that support the current system. Another part of deconstruction is learning the real and full history that has gotten us to the place we’re at now. Still another part is asking what needs to be done to take that system apart. Yet another part is discerning what needs to arise in place of the current system that will give life in the place of death, hope in the place of despair, equity in the place of domination.

You want to talk about deconstruction? I’m so glad you asked! Today’s gospel text is a launching pad for Christian deconstruction.

What is the mythology Jesus attacks here? He challenges the assumption that as long as the Temple is standing and operating that Jerusalem will be safe. The Temple has become a magical charm that wards off evil on its own rather than the dwelling place of God. At least some people have put their faith in the Temple rather than in God. That’s an uncomfortable critique in a time when some of us American Christians are positive we can’t practice our faith unless we’re in our buildings.

What is the real and full history that got folks to the place they were at in the text? The Roman Empire had taken control of the Middle East about a hundred years earlier. Many faithful Jews thought they were right back in the Babylonian Exile as a result. Pagans were calling the shots, even in the Temple. The Temple authorities were collaborating with the Romans and making big money as a result. Lately, the high priestly family had installed a new revenue stream by moving the animal sacrifice shopping center into the outer precincts of the Temple. That was, for Jesus and others, a bridge too far.

This shopping center was part of a system that transferred wealth from the poor to the rich. The Romans took their cut as well. Instead of the Temple functioning as the holy house of God, it had become a religious mall. The word Jesus uses here translates directly into the English word, “emporium.” So, that’s the real and full history, and everybody knew it. The mythology benefitted the powerful and squeezed the poor. The real and full history was a foundation for overturning the mythology.

What needs to be done to take that system apart? Now we come into the center of today’s text. Jesus publicly attacks the system in an act of civil disobedience. Anyone who thinks that public protest, including disrupting traffic and business, is not Christian – such people must have cut John 2 out of their Bibles. This public protest is central to Jesus’ critique of the Temple system.

Jesus declares that in the place of the Temple system God will put…Jesus! Deconstruct this house, Jesus says, and three days later I will replace it with my body. Along with the disciples, we understand now that he was talking about his Resurrection. As we noted last week, Resurrection isn’t raising up a new body in the same old world. Resurrection is raising up a whole new world, and Jesus’ body is the first part of that New Creation.

What needs to arise in place of the current system that will give life in the place of death, hope in the place of despair, equity in the place of domination? It is Jesus’ resurrected body. In the Cross and Resurrection, Jesus gives life in the place of death. In the good news of Jesus Christ, we have hope in the place of despair. In the world turned right side up (as we mentioned last week), we have equity in the place of domination.

Following Jesus creates a world under (de)construction.

This will seem like crazy talk to the world. The world as it is depends on the mythologies of American exceptionalism, white male supremacy, profit over people, and the hyper-individualism that makes it impossible to respond to the system. Paul reminds us in First Corinthians that the foolishness of this world is the wisdom of God, and vice versa.

It is unfortunate that we Church people favor the foolishness of this world over the wisdom of God. What does Jesus want to drive out of our churches? What does Jesus want to deconstruct so we can live? Begin with the list in the previous paragraph, because all that garbage walks in the front doors of our churches with us.

Add to that list our familiar mythologies in church – that we are nice, kind, welcoming people. That we are entitled to comfort when we experience the least bit of distress and that comforting us is God’s main business. That we center ourselves and our perspectives as normal, right, good, and true. That we are completely satisfied with ourselves and need nothing from Outsiders – although they are welcome if they want to assimilate and be just like us. That our church buildings are sacred and that we insiders are too.

That all seems like crazy talk to white church people. It’s a good way for preachers to be encouraged to find other employment. The white church as it is depends on both the cultural and the congregational mythologies to survive as is. But that won’t do if we are faithful followers of Jesus.

Following Jesus creates a world – and a church – under (de)construction.

So, is there any good news here? Yes, there is! It’s the same good news Jesus offers to his audience in the Temple. Tear it down and in three days I’ll build it up. Resurrection is the only Reconstruction that works.

Our mythologies of mastery murder people all the time. They have to go. Our systems of self-serving starve and enslave and erase people all the time. They have to go. What’s the good news?

They were built up. They can be torn down.

Following Jesus creates a world – and a church – under (de)construction.

This won’t get done in our lifetimes, or in the lifetime of the world. But it has already started. Jesus builds up the whole new world with his body. He is The Word made flesh. His body in the world is the Church!

Can we dare be consumed with zeal for the real house of God? That word is quite intentional, I think. Just as Jesus’ mortal body was all used up in the Resurrection of his immortal body, so our broken and failed churches can be used up in the construction of bits and pieces of that whole new world.

We need to do our own deconstruction. That means major tearing down of denominational and congregational power structures that keep white, male supremacy in charge. In spite of what some people might hope, this is going to be costly for those of us who have been in charge for a couple of millennia. But, as we heard last week, what can we give for the life of the world? Probably our own lives – or at least our own power.

Some of our white congregations are going to disappear no matter what we do. That may be true of some of our white denominations. Can we begin to transfer that wealth and land and power to Native, Black, Brown, Asian and other communities on the margins who have paid for our privilege with their lives and livelihoods Maybe.

At the very least, we folks in power have to talk honestly. We have to train ourselves so we are less dangerous dialogue partners and more resilient listeners. Even that would be a start.

Following Jesus creates a world – and a church – under (de)construction. Get ready for some tables to be turned…

Text Study for John 2:13-25 (Part 4); 3 Lent B 2021

Part Four – Politics in the Pulpit

White scholars, preachers, and pew sitters squirm as we consider the Temple Incident. The squirming becomes sweating when we begin to discuss Christian civil disobedience. No, that’s not right. The sweating begins when we consider “politics in the pulpit.”

The general rule in white, mainline congregations on that one is quite simple. Don’t do it. When pastoral leaders engage in something that resembles Christian civil disobedience, such as participating in a peaceful public demonstration for Black Lives Matter, the response from some parishioners is somewhere between panic and outrage. So, this text requires us to dig deeper into such responses and look ourselves in our (white supremacist) faces.

The fact that this is even an issue betrays our privileged, colonial position in the culture. If we resist Jesus’ actions, we are reading the text from the perspective of the religious, economic, and political establishment, not from the perspective of the oppressed and exploited people Jesus represents. That perspective is largely the viewpoint of white male supremacy that dictates the terms of power and the pace of “change.”

I think of the words of Ijeoma Oluo in this regard. She’s worth quoting at length (as is often the case).

“How often have you heard the argument that we have to slowly implement gender and racial equality in order to not ‘shock’ society? Who is the ‘society’ that people are talking about? I can guarantee that women would be able to handle equal pay or a harassment-free work environment right now, with no ramp-up. I’m certain that people of color would be able to deal with equal political representation and economic opportunity if they were made available today. So for whose benefit do we need to go so slowly? How can white men be our born leaders and at the same time so fragile that they cannot handle social progress?” (Mediocre, pages 7-8).

Oluo’s words could be transposed quite easily into the Temple Incident. Who was resistant to changes in the Temple system of wealth extraction? It certainly wasn’t the people who had to decide between getting groceries and buying a pair of doves for the required sacrifice. It certainly wasn’t the people who had to decide between a visit from their friendly Roman legionnaires and having enough money to clothe their children. The people who reacted negatively to Jesus’ Temple intervention were those who benefitted from the system of exploitation.

With whom do we identify? And what is the place of “political witness” in the life of Christian congregations? Here we privileged, powerful, and positioned white people can learn a great deal from the experience and expertise of our sisters and brothers in Black congregations. I deeply appreciate the writing and witness of Dr. Esau McCauley in his book, Reading While Black. I want to quote extensively from that work here.

We white folks have a long history of treating Black Christian political witness as bothersome (at least) and far too extreme (most of the time). McCauley rehearses the criticism of Dr. Martin Luther King’s actions in the Birmingham bus boycott from eight white mainline religious leaders. We Lutherans have our own tales of shame as when, for example, James Forman was summarily rejected by Lutheran authorities when he presented them with a plan for reparations from the church. McCauley describes the pushback as a question. “Was [King’s] public and consistent criticism of the political power structure of his day an element of his pastoral ministry or a distraction from it?” (page 49).

In most of our white mainline congregations, the honest answer would be obvious. Pastors do spiritual things, not political things. White people generally thought that Dr. King should stay in his lane and tend to his flock. Of course, as McCauley points out, such a binary approach was not an option and would not be considered in most Black congregations. The privilege of separating religion and politics is a mark of white supremacy and not a mark of biblical Christianity. The Temple Incident is a case in point.

I can imagine some of the critiques applied to Jesus during and after the Temple Incident, especially by those in power. What does that stupid rabbi think he’s doing? He may know the Bible, but he knows nothing about the real world. Why doesn’t he mind his own business and help people deal with their problems? We liked him a lot better when he was healing people and handing out bread.

But now that damned fool has gone from preaching to meddling. Doesn’t he know the Romans are watching? What if they decide to strike back? And doesn’t he understand that the whole Temple system depends on that money? How will we keep the doors open if people stop buying the animals and using the Temple banking services? He’s going to have to be dealt with, one way or another.

McCauley then works through the “quietist” texts in Romans 13 and 1 Timothy 2. He suggests that Romans 13 cannot be used to justify violent revolt. But there’s a lot of distance between armed insurrection and doing nothing. “Submission and acquiescence,” he writes, “are two different things” (page 51). Indeed, we are called to pray for the welfare of government officials. But that is also not an invitation to inaction. “Prayer for leaders and criticism of their practices are not mutually exclusive ideas,” McCauley says (page 53). “Both have biblical warrant in the same letter” (1 Timothy).

McCauley discusses the inherently political and politically explosive nature of Jesus’ ministry. This was not Jesus’ innovation but rather a fulfillment of the trajectory in the Jewish scriptures to challenge and upset the rulers of this world, beginning with the Egyptian Pharaoh. “It was precisely inasmuch as Jesus was obedient to his Father and rooted in the hopes and dreams of Israel,” McCauley writes, “that Jesus revealed himself to be a great danger to the rulers of his day” (page 55). The Temple Incident is a clear illustration of this revelation.

McCauley reminds us that “those Christians who have called out injustice are following in the footsteps of Jesus” (page 57). This means, of course, that those of us who remain silent are not following in the footsteps of Jesus. That’s not something I’ve preached very often, nor have I heard it with much frequency in our pulpits until recently. John 2 presents an opportunity to at least point this out.

“Protest is not unbiblical,” McCauley concludes, “it is a manifestation of our analysis of the human condition in light of God’s own word and vision for the future. His vision may await an appointed time,” he continues, “but it is coming” (page 62). Analysis of the human condition in most of our mainline pulpits is limited to individual consolation and comfort. In order to avoid the political and social justice conversation, we retreat into individualized “spiritual disciplines” that may offer us personal serenity but do little to inform our social consciousness or energize our public witness. I know that in some cases such disciplines do in fact inform and energize. But my observation is that such connections are exceptional.

I come now to some real dynamite in McCauley’s chapter. I will quote the paragraph fully.

“The question that ought to keep Christians up at night is not the political activism of Black Christians. The question should be how 1 Timothy 2:1-4 came to dominate the conversation about the Christian’s responsibility to the state. How did we manage to ignore the clearly political implications of Paul’s casual remarks about the evil age in Galatians and his wider reflections on the links between evil powers and politicians? How did John’s condemnation of Rome in Revelation fall from view? Why did Jesus’ public rebuke of Herod get lost to history?”

We might add, how did Jesus’ act of civil disobedience fail to motivate white, privileged, mainline Christians to embrace such public and prophetic actions as normal for us? “It may have been,” McCauley continues, “because it was in the best interest of those in power to silence Black voices. But if our voices are silenced,” he declares, “the Scriptures still speak” (page 64).

It is not the case that radical liberal political crazy people have cherry-picked Scripture for a few proof texts to underwrite their causes. It is the case that our positions determine our reading. If we read without analyzing our social positions, we will read inaccurately and narrowly. It is not that Blacks carved an anti-slavery position out of a pro-slavery Bible. It is the case that slaveholders whittled their Bible down until the anti-slavery ammunition was removed.

McCauley’s work can help us to see that white mainline Christians do that more broadly. It is not that individual conversion is in the Bible and social justice is not. It is the case that privileged, powerful, and positioned people prefer a Bible that contains the former but not the latter. Such a pared down text then allows us to stay where we are. But if we stay where we are, we will not follow Jesus where he goes.

References and Resources

Croy, N. Clayton. “The Messianic Whippersnapper: Did Jesus Use a Whip on People in the Temple (John 2:15)?” Journal of Biblical Literature, vol. 128, no. 3, 2009, pp. 555–568. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/25610203?seq=1. Accessed 23 Feb. 2021.

Domeris, William. The ‘enigma of Jesus” temple intervention: Four essential keys. http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S0259-94222015000200038.

Hurtado, Larry. Mark (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series). Grand Rapids, MI.: Baker Books, 1989.

Jeremias, Joachim. Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. Philadelphia, PA.: Fortress Press, 1969.

Lewis, Karoline. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-3.

Malina, Bruce J., and Rohrbaugh, Richard L. Social-Science Commentary on the Gospel of John. Minneapolis, MN.: Fortress Press, 1998.

McCauley, Esau. Reading While Black: African American Biblical Interpretation as an Exercise in Hope. Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP, 2020.

Myers, Alicia D. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-5.

Ruiz, Gilberto. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/cleansing-the-temple/commentary-on-john-213-25-2.

Salmon, Marilyn. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22.

Shore, Mary Hinkle. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-4.

Witherington, Ben. “Jesus and the Temple Tantrum (A Study of John 2:13-17).” https://www.seedbed.com/jesus-and-the-temple-tantrum-a-study-of-john-213-17/.

Text Study on John 2:13-25 (Part 3); 3 Lent B 2021

Part Three: The Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord

It is hard to over-estimate the power and significance of the Jerusalem Temple for Jews in the time of Jesus. “The Temple was the most important factor in the commerce of Jerusalem,” writes Joachim Jeremias in Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. “By means of the Temple treasury, to which every Jew had to pay his annual dues,” Jeremias continues, “the whole of world-wide Jewry contributed to the commerce of Jerusalem.” Malina and Rohrbaugh writes, “While the temple was obviously a religious center in ancient Israel, it was also the central economic and political reality in the society…It was the center of a redistributive economy in which the economic surplus was effectively drained from rural areas” (page 74).

The Temple was the only real “industry” in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus. The city hosted many other types of economic activity, but nothing compared in scale and scope with the operations of the Temple. The revenue included the annual dues from all over the world mentioned above. In addition, there was the revenue from pilgrims during the four great annual feasts. The largest of these crowds came at Passover, so it’s no surprise that the financial operations of the Temple were most visible and business-like at such a time.

“Every good Jews was committed to spending a tenth of the produce of his land in Jerusalem” during such pilgrimages,” according to Jeremias. “The system of taxation and tribute [in the temple] looks to the well-being of elites,” Malina and Rohrbaugh write. “It would be hard to overestimate the import of the temple as the center of a redistributive political economy. With large treasuries and storehouses for material of all sorts, the temple function somewhat like a national bank and storage depot. It became,” they conclude, “a repository of large quantities of money and goods extracted from the surplus product of the peasant economy” (pages 78-79).

The Temple, therefore, was responsible for the accumulation and concentration of huge amounts of wealth among those Jerusalem elites. These elites engaged in conspicuous consumption and were detested by the peasants and impoverished. The merchants and traders certainly catered to those elites and were therefor included in the cast of despised characters. “Whether temple trade was dishonest or not has often been debated by modern scholars,” Malina and Rohrbaugh notes, “but the different terms used in Mark and John would have been synonymous and unambiguous in the minds of ancient peasants. For many peasants, all traders or merchants were dishonorable extortioners and presumed to be dishonest” (page 74).

It was not only the Priestly pockets that were lined by the Temple offerings. The Romans took their cut as well. “Roman coffers benefited from the marketplace that supported sacrificial rites,” Marilyn Salmon writes in her workingpreacher.org commentary. “A disruption at the marketplace at one of the temple courts during a festival season like Passover affected Rome’s revenues. During the Roman occupation, they controlled the temple. We cannot know what Jesus had in mind by his angry demonstration, but he could not have been unaware that it would get the attention of Roman authorities. A reasonable speculation,” Salmon concludes, “is that his anger was related to the complicity of Roman bureaucracy and temple authorities.”

We can imagine that Jesus’ action against the Temple and its commercial system might have evoked cheers and jeers from the impoverished peasants standing in line to be squeezed once again for their offering of pigeons.

We return, therefore, to an earlier question. What did Jesus do here? Was it a demonstration, a protest, a riot, an insurrection? Was it something else? “Scholars have been unable to decide,” write Malina and Rohrbaugh, “whether this incident represents an attempt at reforming the temple…or a prophetic action symbolizing the temple’s destruction” (page 73). We have noted above that it appears in John to be a clear demonstration that Jesus replaces the Temple as the location of God’s presence in the world.

That doesn’t clear up the nature of what Jesus did. One of Jesus’ primary public acts in John is an act of civil disobedience. Jesus’ action is a prophetic provocation. But was it violent? In a time when some Christians are engaging in public demonstrations of civil disobedience, comments on the theology of protest could be helpful.

Clayton Croy walks through this question in terms of vocabulary, grammar, and social dynamics in his JBL article. He notes that some commentators use the Temple Incident to make the case for Jesus as a social revolutionary who was willing to use violence when the situation warranted. This cuts against the pacifism evident in the Sermon on the Mount and in the Passion Narratives.

Croy’s article is playful, not only in the title, but in its content as well. “What would Jesus whip?” he wonders, tongue firmly planted in cheek. His conclusion, however, is not whimsical. Based on his linguistic analysis, he concludes that Jesus improvised some sort of switch or goad with which he drove the larger animals from the scene.

Croy quotes the work of Cosmas Indiocopleustes, “an Egyptian merchant, monk, and geographer” from the sixth century after Christ, who wrote “a remarkably astute exposition of John 2:15-16.” Cosmas described Jesus’ Temple Incident strategy in three steps: (1) expel the large livestock with the whip, (2) toss over the coinage and tables by hand, and (3) chew out the human beings rather than chastising them physically. “I agree with Cosmas’s reading of John,” Croy concludes, “that Jesus did not apply the whip to persons in the temple precincts.” Croy further concludes that there is no conflict between this action and “the broadly attested tradition of a non-violent Jesus.”

So, Jesus doesn’t whip any human beings during the Temple Incident. But he does seem to cause property damage and commercial interruption. What shall we make of that?

William Domeris describes this event as an “intervention,” relying on the Latin meaning of the word as a “coming into.” He writes, “Intervention as a neutral term leaves open the degree of physical force involved, and the actual intention of the primary actor.” That being said, he notes that what Jesus “finds” (verse 14) in the Temple may be the result of fairly recent innovations by Caiaphas. In John’s account, Jesus orders the merchants to leave, rather than the dove-sellers (as we read in Mark’s account). The quotation from Zechariah reinforces this emphasis in John.

Domeris quotes Richard Horsley who asserts that the Temple Incident was an attack on the financial activities operated and controlled by the priestly aristocracy and used to exploit and extract wealth from the lower classes. The Temple had become, as Domeris quotes Borg and Crossan, the locus of the tax system both for Jerusalem and for the Roman provincial administration. Moreover, the Temple was sort of the Judean “Fort Knox” and “IRS” where the collected taxes were stored, and the taxation documentation was maintained. It should come as no surprise that during times of rebellion, the first items to be destroyed by the rebels were those tax records.

The Temple Incident has much in common with the “Occupy Wallstreet” actions of a few years ago. It is what Ben Witherington calls “a prophetic sign act.” Witherington suggests that the Temple Incident demonstrated the need for reform of the system and God’s coming judgment on Herod’s temple. The act was likely popular with the exploited. It also likely precipitated the final confrontation with both Jewish religious and Roman civil authorities that led to the trial and crucifixion.

What does this say about Christians and involvement in civil disobedience? Clearly, based on the Temple Incident, there is a place for such action on behalf of and in solidarity with exploited and oppressed people. This is especially the case in terms of extractive systems and structures. Jesus engages in some property damage, disruption of business, and defying of rules and regulations. He does not attack persons physically but has no problem with other types of confrontation.

We can see that the Temple Incident was effective in several ways. It is targeted to specific practices and structures. It really does create difficulties for the people in power. It is highly visible and clearly interpreted. The impact on those who are the beneficiaries of the action is mostly positive. The action gets the attention both of the public and the authorities. And the meaning seems clear.

Jesus certainly also understands that one result may be a violent response from the authorities. In fact, he may have had this action (among others) in mind as he made his “passion predictions” in the Synoptic gospels. Nowhere does he indicate that he will “deserve” this violent response for his actions. It is rather “necessary” in the sense of being the expected response of the system under attack. Jesus is prepared to risk and endure this response for the sake of the mission, the “Good News of the Kingdom of God.”

Most of us white Christians these days have no experience with such civil disobedience and demonstration. In fact, we likely regard such displays as illegal and offensive. Yet, here in the gospels is our affirmative model for such behavior. Perhaps we can learn a bit from our Black, Brown, Native, Asian, Pacific Islander, female, LGBTQIA+, and other oppressed sisters and brothers about the necessity for such actions. And when we decide to join in, we should be clear – as are they – about the likely response. Taking up one’s cross is not only symbolic.

References and Resources

Domeris, William. The ‘enigma of Jesus” temple intervention: Four essential keys. http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S0259-94222015000200038.

Hurtado, Larry. Mark (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series). Grand Rapids, MI.: Baker Books, 1989.

Jeremias, Joachim. Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. Philadelphia, PA.: Fortress Press, 1969.

Lewis, Karoline. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-3.

Malina, Bruce J., and Rohrbaugh, Richard L. Social-Science Commentary on the Gospel of John. Minneapolis, MN.: Fortress Press, 1998.

Myers, Alicia D. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-5.

Ruiz, Gilberto. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/cleansing-the-temple/commentary-on-john-213-25-2.

Salmon, Marilyn. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22.

Shore, Mary Hinkle. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-4.

Witherington, Ben. “Jesus and the Temple Tantrum (A Study of John 2:13-17).” https://www.seedbed.com/jesus-and-the-temple-tantrum-a-study-of-john-213-17/.

Text Study for John 2:13-25 (part 2); 3 Lent B 2021

Part Two: Consumed with Zeal (John 2:13-25 NRSV)

John’s account of The Temple Incident refers to two texts from the Hebrew Bible: Zechariah 14 and Psalm 69. Reading these texts closely can help us appreciate better John’s account.

Zechariah 14 is a prophecy that describes the return from the Babylonian Exile and restoration of all that was lost in the sack of Jerusalem. There will be a final battle, and Jerusalem shall be restored as the high point of the world – in fact, the place where the watersheds of the Middle East shall originate (verse 8). “And the Lord will become king over all the earth,” Zechariah declares in verse 9, “on that day the Lord will be one and his name one.”

There will be terrible consequences for those who resist the Lord’s rule. But they shall be defeated, and all their wealth shall be collected for deposit in Jerusalem. The survivors shall become faithful in their practice. There is specific mention of an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem at the festival of booths (Pentecost) and the sanction of drought for those who do not come. Everything shall be imprinted with the label, “Holy to the Lord,” including the bells on the horses and all the cooking pots.

The upshot of this for our text is that Temple sacrifice shall cease to be an economic transaction. “And there shall no longer be traders in the house of the Lord of hosts on that day,” the prophet declares. Of course, that means that there are traders in the Temple when the prophecy is spoken and/or committed to writing. This section of Zechariah may have been spoken and/or recorded in the fourth to third centuries before the Christian Era.

More important, this verse also means that the removal of the traders is a sign that the Day of the Lord has come.

There is, therefore, great irony in the report of the demand for a sign in John 2:18. In fact, the removal of the money-changers is a deeply prophetic sign, recognized in the Hebrew Bible as such. Jesus seems to brush off this irony with a cryptic reply. You want a real sign? Tear this temple down and in three days I’ll raise it back up. How’s that for a sign!

Of course, no one could grasp the meaning of those words until after the Resurrection. As the disciples reflected on what they had seen, they came to understand and embrace the deeper meaning of Jesus’ declaration.

At times, commentators have resisted the idea that the Temple court was a place of commerce and exchange. However, the evidence for this comes from a number of sources. Jeremias reviews this material in Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. There is certainly a lively trade in “doves” (can also be translated as pigeons). These are the sacrificial animals for the poor who have a dispensation because they cannot afford sheep, cattle, or oxen.

Some have disputed the presence of larger animals in this area of the Temple. However, Jeremias notes traditions that support the existence of this commerce. More to the point, Jeremias notes that the high priest may have been invested financially in the trade. He notes that Josephus describes Ananias, who served as high priest from about 47 to 55 in the Christian era, as “the great procurer of money” (page 49). Josephus also reports, according to Jeremias, “that the Temple was said to be going to rack and ruin because of avarice and mutual hatred” (ibid).

“So, we are forced to conclude,” Jeremias writes, “that in the Court of the Gentiles, in spite of the sanctity of the Temple area, there could have been a flourishing trade in animals for sacrifice, perhaps supported for the powerful high-priestly family of Annas” (ibid).

If that is the case, then Jesus’ action is not only a symbolic attack on the Temple authorities and establishment. It is a direct threat to a portion of the livelihood of those privileged, powerful, and well-placed priests. It’s one thing to insult a powerful person. That’s bad enough. But when you attack a source of revenue, that can get you killed.

I can’t help but think about the turns taken in the Civil Rights movement in the United States. As long as the movement was about “those terrible racists in the South,” the support of northern liberals was fairly solid. Sit-ins at lunch counters in Alabama were applauded by white folks in New York.

When the Poor Peoples’ march came to Washington, however, the tone changed. When Dr. King began to speak about economic issues, white support dried up. It is no surprise that he was assassinated during a trip to support the strike for better wages by the Memphis sanitation workers. And in our own day, anti-racism may be applauded by some. But the moment we begin to talk about reparations, things suddenly become “impossible.”

The verse the disciples later remember – “Zeal for your house shall consume me” – is a quotation from Psalm 69:9. As Malina and Rohrbaugh note, “Such quotations were often given in truncated form…because audiences could be depended on to fill in the missing sections” (page 74). This is an example of the interpretive rule of thumb: “little text, big context.”

We cannot depend on contemporary audiences to have the same scriptural memories, so it is worthy filling in the blanks here. Psalm 69 is a prayer for deliverance from persecution. Verses one through eight describe the situation of the psalmist in some stereotypical psalmic terms – neck-deep in trouble, dry-throated with fear and weeping, enemies without number, unjust accusations.

The psalmist prays that God will show up and vindicate those who have been so faithful in their steadfast witness and waiting. “Rather than a maniac come to disrupt worship,” Alicia Myers writes in her workingpreacher.org commentary, “Jesus’ disciples understand him to be like the righteous sufferer of Psalm 69: one whose ‘zeal’ for God’s house and statutes made him a target for his enemies (69:9-12).”

Then we come to the stanza containing the quote. “It is zeal for your house that has consumed me,” the psalmist writes, “the insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.” The psalmist is the victim in this drama, not the offender. The writer mourns over the state of things – perhaps the state of inauthentic and rote worship in the temple. It may be that the psalmist and associates have engaged in public demonstrations grieving over the situation of the temple – fasting, sitting in sackcloth, and other acts of mourning.

The results have been mocking, insults, gossip, and bawdy songs about the protesters in local bars. The psalmist prays for vindication, for an answer to the prayers. There may need to be more waiting for the response. “But as for me, my prayer is to you, O Lord,” the psalmist writes in verse thirteen, “At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance of your steadfast love, answer me” (NRSV).

Yet, the psalmist prays that the waiting will not be long. The public insults have risen to a heart-breaking volume. The psalmist tastes those insults like poisoned food and vinegar to drink (one thinks of Jesus’ cry of thirst on the cross for a moment). The writer is on the point of despair.

In verse twenty-two the psalmist begins an inventory of actions proposed for God in case things aren’t yet quite clear. “Let their table be a trap for them,” we read, “a snare for their allies.” The application in John 2 becomes more concrete. The tables of the moneychangers are overturned. The following verses describe destruction and indignation poured out on the persecutors. There will be consequences for the protestors, but the psalmist implores the Lord to act.

The result will be authentic worship and praise in the Temple. “I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving,” the psalmist writes in verses 30 and 31, “This will please the Lord more than an ox or a bull with horns and hoofs” (NRSV). The climax of the psalm rejects the offerings of the privileged, the powerful, and the propertied. Verses thirty-two and thirty-three lift up those who are oppressed and needy as the ones who will be glad.

Up to this point in the psalm, we might have imagined the protest taking place while the first Temple was still standing. That, however, is not the case. Perhaps the psalm began as such a protest, for example, in the time of Jeremiah. But it has become a prayer for the restoration of the Temple and a promise to those languishing in the Babylonian Exile.

“Let heaven and earth praise him, the seas and everything that moves in them,” the psalmist writes in verse 34. Then the future tense kicks in. “For God will save Zion and rebuild the cities of Judah; and his servants shall live there and possess it,” the writer promises, “the children of his servants shall inherit it, and those who love his name shall live in it.”

In John’s account, the challenge to the Temple reminds the disciples of these words from the Exile. The Temple system in Jesus’ time is oppressive, extractive, and illegitimate. It is not a “real” Temple but rather some kind of spiritual shopping mall.

The people of God remain in exile even though the buildings have been reconstructed. “Jesus is not just any righteous sufferer,” Alicia Myers suggests, “he is the location of God’s glory rather than the temple building in which he stands. Jesus’ disruption of the worship practices, therefore, is God’s own critique.”

Of course, the Temple has been rebuilt by Herod – not a model of Israelite faithfulness. Jesus declares that he will build an authentic “temple” with his broken and resurrected body. It is only later – after the cross and resurrection – that the disciples can remember this action and interpret with the psalm text. They have witnessed the building of the new Temple on Easter and now bear witness to that reality.

References and Resources

Domeris, William. The ‘enigma of Jesus” temple intervention: Four essential keys. http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S0259-94222015000200038.

Hurtado, Larry. Mark (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series). Grand Rapids, MI.: Baker Books, 1989.

Jeremias, Joachim. Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. Philadelphia, PA.: Fortress Press, 1969.

Lewis, Karoline. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-3.

Malina, Bruce J., and Rohrbaugh, Richard L. Social-Science Commentary on the Gospel of John. Minneapolis, MN.: Fortress Press, 1998.

Myers, Alicia D. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-5.

Ruiz, Gilberto. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/cleansing-the-temple/commentary-on-john-213-25-2.

Salmon, Marilyn. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22.

Shore, Mary Hinkle. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-4.

Wecker, Menachem. “AOC’s favorite biblical story is mired in a dark, anti-Jewish past.” https://www.ncronline.org/news/opinion/aocs-favorite-biblical-story-mired-dark-anti-jewish-past

Witherington, Ben. “Jesus and the Temple Tantrum (A Study of John 2:13-17).” https://www.seedbed.com/jesus-and-the-temple-tantrum-a-study-of-john-213-17/.

Text Study for John 2:13-25 (Part 1); 3 Lent B 2021

Where does God meet us, and where do we meet God? Does that meeting happen in “all the old familiar places”? Or does Jesus challenge us to have a new imagination about that meeting?

The so-called “cleansing of the Temple” appears in all four gospels. That title, found nowhere in the text, carries assumptions, actions, and accusations which are not warranted by a close reading of the text. So, let’s refer to our subject by the more neutral title of the “Temple Incident.”

In the synoptics, the Temple Incident shows up at the beginning of Jesus’ final week, leading to the Crucifixion. We will refer to the report found in Mark 11:12-24. In John, this event is early in the book rather than late. This “difference” has provoked discussion and controversy over the centuries regarding the accuracy of one or another of the accounts.

I would suggest that this controversy is the result primarily of a misunderstanding of how John’s gospel “works.” As one commentator has noted, John begins where the Synoptics end. That’s true physically, in how the New Testament is constructed. But it is also true theologically. I think that John takes us to Holy Week almost immediately. He then expands his narrative by flashing back to a variety of events in Jesus’ ministry that illustrate the points John wishes to make.

One of the textual markers for this assessment can be found in the way Psalm 69 is employed and deployed in the Synoptic accounts and in John’s account. We will discuss Psalm 69 and its usage in greater detail in a later post. But for now, it is important to notice that Mark uses this Psalm in Mark 15:36, the offering of a sponge soaked in sour wine. John will use a different portion of Psalm 69:9 in his description of the Temple Incident.

I don’t believe that is accidental but is rather one of the ways John uses to signal his technique in telling the story. I conclude, therefore, that John is using what we would call “Holy Week” as the lens through which all of Jesus’ ministry is to be viewed, understood, and experienced. The so-called “difference” between the Synoptic timeline and that of John’s account is a matter of misunderstanding rather than contradiction.

The difference between John and the Synoptics is, at least, a difference in technique rather than a difference in remembrance. Before we dig into John’s text, however, we need to clear another hermeneutical hurdle. This text, among many, is used to reinforce the anti-Semitic and anti-Jewish beliefs and practices of historic Christianity. That is particularly the case when we focus on the “corruption” of the Temple leadership as the reason for Jesus’ public protest.

That emphasis on the corruption of the Temple leadership and system seems to be more at the heart of the Synoptic accounts than in John. John does not have the quotation from Jeremiah 7:11 – “Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your sight? You know, I too am watching, says the Lord” (NRSV). The verse comes from Jeremiah’s “temple sermon” in which the prophet criticizes the view that the first Jerusalem Temple (built by King Solomon) is a guarantee of God’s presence and Judah’s security.

Jeremiah’s sermon begins by identifying the social and economic injustices associated with the Temple establishment and practice (verses 5-15). The sermon continues by calling out abuses in worship practice and outright idolatry (verses 16-26). The prophet declares that the Temple shall suffer the fate of the sanctuary at Shiloh. That sanctuary in the Northern Kingdom of Israel was destroyed by the Assyrians a century or so previous. He asserts that people will hear his words but not listen to them, and the result will be devastation. The Lord will “will bring to an end the sound of mirth and gladness, the voice of the bride and bridegroom in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem; for the land shall become a waste” (Jeremiah 7:34, NRSV).

The deployment of Jeremiah’s framework in Mark’s account of the Temple Incident reinforces the emphasis on the corruption of the Temple leadership and system. Mark’s account is the “meat” in an inter-textual sandwich, the “bread” of which is the Cursing of the Fig Tree in Mark 11:12-15 and the outcome of the Curse in Mark 11:20-24. Hurtado suggests that “Jesus’ disappointment with the fig tree is like his disappointment with Israel and the temple, her (sic) chief shrine” (page 180).

The Cursing of the Fig Tree may relate to one of the oracles in Jeremiah 8 that follow the Temple Sermon. In 8:11 (NRSV), the prophet accuses the leaders of soft-pedaling the crisis as they continue to exploit the vulnerable. They “have treated the wound of my people carelessly,” Jeremiah says, “saying, ‘Peace, peace’, when there is no peace.” The leaders have not born the fruit the Lord desires, whether that is grapes or figs. The fig trees are unproductive, he says, “even the leaves are withered, and what I gave them has passed away from them” (Jeremiah 8:13b, NRSV). The connection seems clear enough to me.

Therefore, in Mark’s account, the Temple is like the unproductive fig tree. “It is this that Jesus uses as a symbol for the temple,” Hurtado writes, “it has the appearance of dedication to God, but in substance falls short of doing his will” (Hurtado, page 181). On this basis, Jesus enters the Temple and disrupts the system for a short time. In the midst of that disruption, Jesus quotes the “den of robbers” verse from Jeremiah. Note that this quoted text comes from the lips of Jesus, not from the later remembrance of the disciples, as the scripture references happen in John’s account.

The Temple Incident is the last straw for the Jerusalem authorities, in Mark’s account. That is not the case in John, as we shall see later. Not only does Jesus interrupt the normal commercial activity in the Court of the Gentiles, but his protest “was also an allusion to the prediction of the prophet Jeremiah that the sinfulness of the priestly leadership in his own day would bring on the judgment of God” (Hurtado, page 182).

Some scholars wonder how Jesus could engage in such an action and then return to the Temple complex to teach later in the week. Mark explains this in quite simple terms. Jesus’ critique received the approval of the crowd to such a degree that the authorities had to come up with other plans to put a stop to Jesus’ public activity. Jesus was not the first to critique the Temple leadership and system, and that critique was bound to be popular with crowds who likely felt squeezed and cheated (whether that was the actual case or not). Jesus was protected in public by public opinion. That’s why he had to be “handed over” in the dark of night.

Even Mark’s account is misread if it is treated as an anti-Jewish report. After all, most of the folks in the account are Jews. This is an account of a Jewish critique of a Jewish institution, with Gentiles as – at most – spectators. A better use of this text is as a source of critique for leaders in our own religious institutions. There is no shortage of ways in which the Christian Church has made itself into a haven and sanctuary for thieves, robbers, adulterers, abusers, and tyrants. A glance at recent headlines, unfortunately, confirms this contention. Worse yet, the previous statement will be true regardless of when you might read it.

That being said, we can focus on what John actually reports and why. What did Jesus do here? Was it a demonstration, a protest, a riot, an insurrection? Was it something else? In any event, Jesus was not opposed to attacking the religious and commercial establishment. Jesus was not opposed to going after the money and property of the privileged and the rapacious. One of Jesus’ primary public acts in John is an act of civil disobedience – and this act is recorded in all four gospels. But here in John the target is not really the corrupt religious leadership and establishment.

Instead, Jesus engages in public theater, prophetic performance art. John takes advantage of that to make a different point. Jesus’ action is a provocation. It demands a response. If it is tolerated, who knows what other kinds of civil disobedience might break out. Malina and Rohrbaugh note that, “An action of the sort described in vv. 14-16 would have been a serious public challenge to persons in charge of the temple that could hardly be overlooked” (page 74).

Whatever Jesus intended in the moment, this was far more than a political protest. In the first-century Mediterranean world, temples “were heavily invested with social significance. In fact, they were personified and viewed as moral persons. They had ascribed honor just as did any family or individual and could be insulted, cursed, hated, and dishonored,” Malina and Rohrbaugh observe. “By dishonoring the temple, one also dishonored all of its personnel, from high priest down, including the One who commanded its construction and occasionally dwelled there – God” (page 79).

What did Jesus do here? “Jesus makes it impossible for people to buy animals for the required sacrifices,” Mary Hinkle Shore writes in her workingpreacher.org commentary, “and impossible for those who have come from all over the Empire to change their money and pay their tithes.” In Mark, Jesus accuses the buyers and money changers of turning the Temple into a den of robbers, Malina and Rohrbaugh note. In John, Jesus claims the Temple has been turned into an “emporium,” a house of trade. They suggest that the difference is not significant. Shore is not so sure, and I agree with her.

In the Synoptics, Shore points out, it seems that the issue is the corruption of the Temple system. “But in the gospel of John,” she writes, “this conflict in the temple takes on a different meaning. Jesus is not acting against corruption, or at least he is not only acting against corruption. He is involved in performance art. Jesus,” Shore asserts, “brings temple activity to a standstill in order to point to another holy place altogether” (my emphasis).

Karoline Lewis amplifies this in her workingpreacher.org commentary. “Jesus is not quibbling about maleficence or mismanagement but calls for a complete dismantling of the entire system. Underneath this critique,” Lewis continues, “lies also the intimation that the temple itself is not necessary. At the center of such theological statements is the fundamental question of God’s location, which will be confirmed in the dialogue between Jesus and the Jewish authorities.”

The location of that other holy place is his body – the real “dwelling place of God among us.” This is one of the questions raised in this text – where does God meet us, and where do we meet God? “The surprise in today’s gospel reading is that Jesus says that the transcendent is present in his body,” Shore writes. “The gospel of John makes this claim, that a human body — unique but also a lot like your body or mine — is the holy place of God.”

References and Resources

Croy, N. Clayton. “The Messianic Whippersnapper: Did Jesus Use a Whip on People in the Temple (John 2:15)?” Journal of Biblical Literature, vol. 128, no. 3, 2009, pp. 555–568. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/25610203. Accessed 23 Feb. 2021.

Domeris, William. The ‘enigma of Jesus” temple intervention: Four essential keys. http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S0259-94222015000200038.

Hurtado, Larry. Mark (Understanding the Bible Commentary Series). Grand Rapids, MI.: Baker Books, 1989.

Jeremias, Joachim. Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. Philadelphia, PA.: Fortress Press, 1969.

Lewis, Karoline. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-3.

Malina, Bruce J., and Rohrbaugh, Richard L. Social-Science Commentary on the Gospel of John. Minneapolis, MN.: Fortress Press, 1998.

Myers, Alicia D. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-5.

Ruiz, Gilberto. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/cleansing-the-temple/commentary-on-john-213-25-2.

Salmon, Marilyn. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22.

Shore, Mary Hinkle. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-213-22-4.

Wecker, Menachem. “AOC’s favorite biblical story is mired in a dark, anti-Jewish past.” https://www.ncronline.org/news/opinion/aocs-favorite-biblical-story-mired-dark-anti-jewish-past