If Jesus Comes to Our Church

Recently I was visiting a parish and the pastor confided in me that he was a little distracted by this large plant that was stationed immediately in front of the altar and the plant was taller and bigger than he was. He was having some difficulty in this obstruction of his view of the people at Mass and he mentioned this to a few people and they said, "Father this is the way we've always done it here." Does that sound familiar? So he decided that to move the plant would cause such a

stir that it would be better to just leave that one alone. Doesn't that sound familiar though? This is the way we've always done it here.

Now, if you can get the picture of that sanctuary in your mind, you can appreciate this Gospel where Jesus does a whole lot more than just move around the furniture. In doing so, he causes some stir that would register perhaps 5.5 on the Richter scale throughout all of Judea. To begin with, some brief background information could help us appreciate what's happening here. This particular Gospel episode about Jesus cleansing the Temple takes place in John's Gospel at the very beginning of Jesus' public ministry. It is unlike the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, where this scene occurs immediately before Jesus' Passion and death; almost suggesting it's another reason—perhaps the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back—that so provoked the Jewish leaders that they began to conspire his very death.

The scholars who study the Scriptures suggest that the Synoptic account is more historical, but you know enough now about the Gospel writers, that they can take this theological license to construct the Gospel not according to perfect chronology or biography, but rather to present a certain theology. With that liberty, John places this scene of Jesus cleansing the Temple in the beginning of his Gospel to suggest this is what his ministry will be about—that is, transforming all of our religion, all of our life with the Lord. Jesus' ministry is about bringing new life and needed changes that sustain that new life.

The Gospel begins by setting the stage, as John says, "The Jewish Passover was near so Jesus went up to Jerusalem." You might know that the Passover was the greatest of all the Jewish feasts of the entire year. It usually occurred about mid-April, much like our own Passion week and Easter celebration. There was a Jewish law in fact that every adult Jewish male who lived within 15 miles of Jerusalem was obligated by the Law to attend the Passover festivity in the holy city of Jerusalem. So, we see Jesus making this pilgrimage to the holy city and to pray in the Temple. In fact, along with people from the outlying areas around Jerusalem, pilgrims came from all over the world. William Barclay, in his commentary on this passage, suggests that more than 2.25 million Jewish people would often come to celebrate the Passover in the time of Christ. Isn't that amazing? 2.25 million people coming together to celebrate this great feast of the Passover.

The people who would come to the Temple, we're told, "Came into the Temple precincts." That is where Jesus came upon people engaged in selling oxen, sheep and doves and others seated changing coins. Again, scholars suggest that these activities were commonplace in the Temple precincts. Let me describe what the Temple precincts were. The Temple consisted of several inner courts all leading into the holy of holies. There was first the outer courtyard that was called the court of the Gentiles; so anyone was allowed here. This outer courtyard, which is wide open, was the place where these animals would be bought and where coins would be exchanged. Then that led into the court of the Jewish women and then another court of the Jewish men. This led to the inner court of priests which ultimately led to the small but beautiful golden niche building of the holy of holies that enclosed the Ark of the covenant which held the great commandments, the Law of the Lord. It was there—they believed—the presence of God dwelt.

These outer courtyards are where animals were sold and where people came to offer sacrifice to the Lord as their way of worshiping God. Providing the animals in this courtyard was, in fact, a real service to these pilgrim people who came from many miles all around the world. They were obviously unable to bring along animals themselves. Furthermore, the money changers were also necessary and very helpful to the pilgrims, who did not have Jewish coins. They would have carried with them the Roman or Greek coin which would have contained the image of the Imperial king or queen, which of course greatly offended the pious Jews who believed that any graven image was a great sacrilege and therefore could not be offered at the Temple. They had to exchange this money, much like we do when we go to a foreign country and exchange currency.

Why would Jesus get so upset at this business that was carried on the way things always had been done? We're told he got even more than a little upset. We read in this Gospel: "Jesus made a kind of whip of cords and drove them all out of the Temple area. Sheep and oxen alike. He knocked over the moneychangers tables, spilling their coins. He told those who were selling doves, 'Get them out of here.'"

It does remind me of, and bring me back to my childhood, when my brothers and I would be playing football in the living room and mom would come running and shouting, "Get out of here!" I understood at the time it's not good to kick field goals in the living room, but I couldn't figure it completely out; the green carpet made a wonderful Astroturf. We were perfect passers— and by the way, the furniture was a great blocking tackle so what was the big deal? These people would have said, "What's going on? What's the big deal? We've always done it this way." Why did Jesus get so angry? I suggest three reasons that seem to be implied in this Gospel and even stated explicitly in Jesus' comment when he shouted, "Stop turning my father's house into a market place!”

We know, first of all, that it would've been very difficult to pray with all these sheep and goats and oxen bleating and yelling and mooing and making all their loud noise, not to mention the banter of all the market salesmen trying to make their bargains. You can appreciate this if you've ever been to the Holy Land—honest-to-goodness it’s striking what the marketplace is like. It is loud with yells and smells of all kinds and it's a bombardment of the senses and very distracting. I remember it even seemed to carry over into one church we happened to visit; I won't mention the church, but it was almost impossible to pray. That's what Jesus is first saying, 'You've turned this place of prayer into a marketplace.' That would have irked him greatly.

Secondly, we can learn something about the moneychangers. From William Barclay's commentary, I learned that they customarily charged an exorbitant exchange rate. In fact, they were known as cheaters because of all the money they made off these poor pilgrims. They had them over the barrel you see. They had the only business in town, so to speak.

In another Gospel, Jesus looks to these moneychangers and says, "You are a den of thieves." Well yeah, they were ripping off the people but, worst of all in Jesus' mind, they were doing it in the name of God and in the name of religion. That is so perverted, it's blasphemous.

Thirdly, I would suggest it seems that the reason Jesus was so upset—and had every reason to be upset—was the fact that they were forgetting what their religion was all about. It's not about just selling animals and burning incense and yelling and making the right exchange of coins. What the prophets down through the ages tried to sell them is a converted heart; a pure heart; a humble heart. That is the sacrifice God asked of us, that we turn away from injustice and help the poor and the oppressed and the needy; the hungry widow; the lonely. And somehow, somehow, it's so easy to forget what it's all about, isn't it?

I can't help but think of some contemporary examples. When I drive by some churches and I see this huge 10' x 10' sign for bingo or festivals or fish fry’s or raffles and then you have to strain your eyes to see the small print: [spoken in a quiet voice] and Sunday services are at... It's like, do they realize what sign they are really giving? Are we forgetting what it's all about? Is this not a sign of certain priorities we sometimes have unconsciously? Exterior signs are only indications of other things that need to be looked at today and I want to raise the question: If Jesus came to our church, our Temple today, what would he say? What would he want to change?

I asked that question to my homily group that meets every Monday morning—a group of priests that come together to look at the Gospel—and I was really proud of the question I raised and my brother priests said, "What do you think?" and I said, "Well..." Then I started where I think Jesus would start, I said, "I think he'd go right to Rome. Start right at the top and I think he would just tell them what they need to hear. Now that needs to change and I think he would just set everybody straight on all the right issues. Get in line!" And I was going on and on with this list of my issues that I think need to be changed and how I think Jesus would have a clearing house of all kinds of things that I don't think have a lot to do with the Gospel and I was really getting hot and heated and I was giving a mini-homily right there and I'll never forget, after it was over there was just dead silence. And I thought, "Yeah! I really got them. I really got them!" You know? “I really got them thinking.” And then Father Phil said, "Hmm, do you really plan to say that?" I said, "Yeah." And he said, "Well, I think Jesus would not start in Rome. I think he would start at home." "Hmm," I thought. And he said, "I think if he would come to our home parish, I think the first thing he would want to change is me." Whoa. As soon as he said that, I immediately felt like those men in the Temple must've felt when the tables were turned around. Yes, the tables were turned around on me and I was embarrassed for thinking that what I was suggesting was all so good; but not completely of God.

I now come to share with you that I think if Jesus were to come into this Cathedral, this temple today, I do believe the first thing he would want to change is me. I hope you would agree for yourself too. I believe that Jesus would want to drive away all those things that keep us from drawing closer to the Lord; all those many things that distract us. Usually it's not so much the raffle tickets as all the other chances that occupy my mind and take my attention. It's all those things that really keep me from praying well. I think if Jesus were to come into this church today I think he'd want to change those obstacles that keep me from coming closer to everyone. Those things that he would want to deliver from me (and I suspect from you) will be those injustices that we are so often unconscious of; those prejudices; that pettiness that keeps us from not

honoring our Father's business, which is all about love and service. I would think he would want to change in me whatever truly is not giving service to the Lord.

It's a wonderful coincidence that this Sunday, in those parishes that are commemorating the catechumenate process, that we're being invited to celebrate this Scrutiny. By that I mean the priest is inviting those preparing to come into the church at Easter time to go through a scrutiny of themselves to see the sin in their life that is keeping them from coming closer to Christ and living the full Christian life. I think we all would do well to make that scrutiny ourselves; to see what is blocking us—those things in the category of "we've always done things this way" and our own bad habits and bad thinking that needs to be challenged and changed. What is it that the Lord really wants to do to you and to me?

I want to leave this question with you today. If Jesus came into our church today, what would he want to change? What do you imagine? Let me end with this story, perhaps you've heard of it. It's a wonderful story about a certain monastery that grew on very hard times as the numbers had greatly declined. As the monks grew older and older, there was very little life left in that monastery. The Abbot of the Monastery was feeling very depressed and discouraged so we went off to pray and met this other holy man of God. He poured out his heart to this man who understood his burden and commiserated with him and the two men joined together in prayer, asking that God would support him and strengthen him and bless his Monastery in some way. Before he left this holy man, as they embraced, the holy man whispered in his ear, “Just know that the Christ is among you."

When he returned to his Monastery, the Abbot shared that with the brothers over dinner and conversation. As they came to reflect on it, one after another started wondering what that holy man might have meant: "Christ is among you." Could it be, they thought, that maybe Christ is present in the About? Not likely, but just in case they began to think maybe they better be more respectful and obedient to him. Then you could almost hear their mind speak out-loud their inner thoughts—one thought— could it be crazy Charlie? No...I mean he's too crazy but isn't it just like the Lord to come through the least of all and they recognized maybe Charlie was carrying Christ with him. And another thought about another and it went on and on and the amazing thing is, little by little, they began to take a new look at themselves and each other and it did change things; how they beheld each other and spoke to each other with new reverence and respect. Before long, there was this slow but gradual change that occurred in the spirit of this Monastery and even those who came to make retreat there noticed the difference.

They spoke of that when they returned home and many more then came to begin to make pilgrimages; something that (for whatever reason) people long ago had stopped doing. After a while, young men began to inquire about joining this community; they could see such a life of love and before long the monastery was filled again with a whole new life and love because they discovered the Christ was among them. That is what's going to change this church. That we could see the Lord among us. Calling us all to change. It's not the trickle down theory starting at Rome; it's starting right at home.

It is what the Lord wants to do right at home in the little chapels of our houses and families and friends; and even at work. Imagine the Lord walking even into here. What would he say? What would the Lord say? Or to our home parish, what would he say? It's all about conversion. What would Jesus want to change?