Taken to the Cleaners

Lent 3B 03/15/09

John 2:13-22

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

They say hindsight’s 20/20. If that’s true, there’s a whole bunch of people seeing Mr. Bernie Madoff clearly for the first time this week. He pled guilty to defrauding hundreds of people out of their investments in a “Ponzi Scheme” that involved almost sixty billion dollars. Sixty billion! Many of these investors went to sleep one day comfortably provided for financially, and woke up the next with their retirement funds having vanished into thin air. It’s lamentable.

What’s even perhaps more lamentable is the fact that there hasn’t been a groundswell of those who profited hugely in the early stages of the deception, stepping forward and giving back the ill-gotten returns on their investments, so that those caught in the scheme’s collapse might receive some restitution. I don’t think any of them have. But a congressman has introduced a bill—but, oh—not to set in motion such an equitable redistribution of tainted wealth. Rather the bill would have the federal government give back the taxes those folks paid on their sizeable earnings. Curiouser and curiouser.

If hindsight’s 20/20, than what’s foresight in this instance? Short-sighted to say the least. Blinded by the radiance of easy money, people lined up to invest with Bernie. They knew the old adage, but believed in the “too good to be true” investment plan anyway.

Of course that’s blaming the victims, which is not totally fair. Perhaps the blame rests more on the shoulders of those whom we pay to protect us from such debacles—the regulatory agencies. These are the ones charged with the responsibility to make sure “what never can happen again” doesn’t happen again. To ride shotgun on the bull market and keep an eye out for bandits. Unfortunately their impact is limited both by the sheer volume of things to regulate versus the finite resources available to them, and by the thoughtful deregulation enacted by the last two administrations. Still, the cause of this mess can’t reside simply with the SEC, tempting as that may seem (it’s always fun to blame the government!).

No, the fault lies in the hands of the Bernie Madoffs of the world—those who either legally or perhaps illegally or unethically, extracted wealth from the trusting, somewhat greedy, masses who were then led down the golden road to instant gratification in the form of endless consumer credit, houses with big mortgages, and 401K funds that earn thirty percent per annum. We were tempted, and we ate the Apple, and the IBM, and the Citi group, and the AIG, and the GM, and the BOA. We gorged ourselves on the fast food economics they offered us. But now the bubble has burst, the bear is loose in the DOW, and we’re left with fiscal indigestion. They say hindsight is 20/20. I say we’re seeing clearly now, and what we’re seeing is discouraging, disappointing, and detestable. And it needs to be cleaned up.

You know, often, when you’re in the middle of something that’s happening, like this Ponzi scheme, there’s no time to do anything but react—in whatever way, for good or for ill. It’s only later on, with time and resources available, that you can make some sense out of your experience. It’s that way for us in these economic times. And it was that way for the disciples as they traveled around with Jesus—listening to the strange and radical things he said. And especially seeing the wondrous, and sometimes provocative things he did. What was up with all the healings, the exorcisms, and feeding thousands with just a small basket of food? And that time in the temple, with the sheep and the doves, and the money on the floor, what was that about?

Surely Jesus’ activities described in today’s gospel of John are some that gave the disciples pause. These actions were definitely provocative, if not illegal—surely Jesus did not hope to endear himself to his powerful opponents at the temple by trashing the joint like a rock star in a hotel room.

It must have been shocking to the disciples to see Jesus that worked up, that violent. And for what reason? The cattle and sheep and doves were for sale there for the worshipers’ convenience. It was easier to pay a bit more for a sacrificial animal that was certified blemish-free, than it was to raise one and bring it with you to the temple—just to have it rejected for sacrificial purposes. And the moneychangers were there to helpfully provide (for a small fee, yes, of course) the exchange of the realm’s coinage, with the graven image of false god Caesar on it, for good old Hebrew money. You wouldn’t want to break the first commandment in the temple itself! So, this ancient version of the mall was a convenient and traditional part of the core of worship in the temple—the sacrificial system. The hustle and bustle, the noise and the smells, and the profit taking weren’t seen as anything out of the ordinary by the disciples, or by any other Jew for that matter. Save except for one. Who was that?

Jesus. Jesus saw things differently. So he chased the sheep and cattle out of the temple. He let the doves out of their cages and they flew off. Then he turned his attention to the moneychangers’ tables. He couldn’t liberate coins, but he could ruin the neat stacks of them sitting there. So, he turned all the tables over. Scattered the loot all around the courtyard. Sent those moneychangers dashing after their rolling profits. Yes, Jesus saw things differently. When he looked at the colorful, noisy marketplace, he did not see tradition. He saw God’s people drifting away from God. He saw the rotting remnants of a once vibrant and socially responsible religion. He saw parasitic vendors devaluing the sacrificial worship practices, ironically enough, through the over-valuing of the sacrifices. Jesus saw a den of thieves. So he cleaned house.

Imagine if you will, the disciples’ faces as this cleansing took place. Were they shocked? Probably. Scared? If they were smart. Angry along with Jesus? Eh. How about perplexed? That’s likely to be the one emotion we don’t attribute to the disciples as Jesus whoops up on the temple merchants. But, given the circumstances, it was likely the dominant feeling for them in that moment. Think about it—they walk into the grand edifice of the temple—magnificent—like us going to St. Patrick’s Cathedral in NYC—and they are immediately surrounded by the daily routine of the temple. Everything is familiar and in a way, comforting.

Then, suddenly Jesus starts upending tables and driving out cows and sheep with a whip he made from cords. Then as quickly as it started – it’s over, except for the cleanup on aisles 1-10 he left behind. Over except for the disciples, who are left trying to figure out why Jesus did that, and even more the meaning of what he said to the authorities: “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it up in three days.” They wouldn’t understand for about three years, until the resurrection and the gift of the Spirit opened their minds to the scriptures. Then they could read a passage like, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” And see it as referring to Jesus cleansing of the temple. The they could remember the death and resurrection of the Lord and understand that he wasn’t talking about anything else but the temple that was his body. After the cross and tomb, they who witnessed it in person, could finally know that Jesus was fighting corruption, and commercialism and for the sanctity of the sanctuary.

That does it for the disciples—that’s the significance of this event for them. We glean that from the gospel-writer John’s little aside at the end of the reading. But of course, the first readers of the gospel already knew the end of the story (Jesus dies for the sins of the world and reconciles God and creation and defeats death for all time – sorry if I ruined it for you!). For them it wasn’t so much understanding the details of the story, as it was understanding Jesus and his relationship to God and to them. That is precisely why John uses the temple cleansing story, not as the finale to the Palm Sunday procession as in the other three gospels. But here in chapter four—right in the beginning. Not coincidental or accidental. For a reason. The reason being to alert the reader to some major symbolism that is introduced here and sustained throughout John. That being Jesus replaces the temple (which has drifted into corruption) as the focus of the new believing community. This issue would have been vitally important to first century Christians, who were often Jewish in background, and who sought a rationale for their disassociation from synagogue and temple.

Well, what about us? As twenty-first century Christians and specifically for us as Lutherans? (Cause us Lutherans got that interpretive Lutheran spin going on.)

There’s two ways to take it (at least). The first is to pick up on the image of cleansing, driving out the sin in our lives, making the temples that are our bodies pure and holy for the Lord Jesus to enter in. Looking at it this way we pray for Jesus to sweep though us and replace false gods such as money, property, and self-reliance, with the one true God who sent his Son to die for us and raised him so that we might enjoy eternal life.

The second way to apply the symbolism of this story is to consider what Jesus would drive out of our churches, if he were to come visit today. Would he pour out the coffee and turn over the snack table? Would he tear down the posters advertising fundraising dinners? Would he burn some of the magazines that seek to cash in on the religious market—selling everything from St. Joseph statuettes that help sell your home, to single servings of communion with a plastic dup of wine topped by a wafer. Would he stomp Fair Trade coffee and eco-palms underfoot? Would he liberate those for whom sacrificial giving is something purchased, rather than something we have no control over? Would he overturn the organ, drive out the choir, disband the praise band, and refocus worship on God alone? To sweep away the remnants of the old, ossified institution of “religion” and to replace it with a living, breathing organism that is the church—the body of Christ. Looking at the cleansing from this perspective we pray for God to reform the church, make it worthy to be the body.

Third (I know I said there were two, but I did qualify that as “at least.”). The Lutheran take on the cleansing of the temple. The previous two were heavy on law, which I noticed right away. The law convicts, the law is a mirror in which we see our sinful selves. The law drives us to despair in that we can do no other. We cannot clean ourselves. But…and here’s the Lutheran part…it’s not we who do the cleaning—it is Jesus Christ who comes to us with fire in his eyes and compassion in his heart, and it is Jesus who rids our beings, our homes, our churches, our communities, our world of that which corrupts—greed, avarice, hubris, and power, driving them out with, not a whip—but with grace. Grace is the weapon of choice in Jesus’ battle with sin. Grace, freely given, is what God promises all who invest their sin in Jesus

The return on this investment is nothing short of miraculous—freedom from sin, eternal life, an abundant life, a right relationship with God. But it’s not a scheme, or a trick. So don’t wait til you get a 20/20 perspective on it. Trust me—you won’t get taken to the cleaners. The Cleaner will come to you. Thanks be to God! Amen