Third Sunday of Lent – Cycle B
Exodus 20: 1-17;
1 Corinthians 1:
22-25;
John 2: 13-25
Scripture
can be described at a double-edged sword. It's a sword that cuts both
ways. The Gospels that we proclaim each Sunday both confront our
sinfulness and comfort us in our in our feelings of doubt and pain.
But today's Lenten Gospel neither confronts us nor comforts us.
Today's Gospel startles us.
Jesus,
our savior, calls for us to love our enemies and to turn the other
cheek. Jesus, our model, lived meekly and was humble of heart. But
today, this same Jesus lunges through the Temple with a whip in his
hand, driving out animals, turning over the money changer's tables,
spilling thousands of coins all over the floor and yelling at the top
of his lungs: Get out of here! You are turning my Father's house
into a shopping mall, not a place of prayer.
This
image of Jesus shocks us. Many are uncomfortable with this angry
Jesus. One of the biblical commentaries that I read cautioned that
we should not concentrate on Jesus' anger, and instead focus on the
symbolism of the story. It even went so far as to say that Jesus
didn't use the whip. He merely cracked it to make his point.
I'm
not so sure about this tame explanation. I believe this
interpretation of the events robs Jesus of his humanity. Jesus was
like us in all things except sin. Jesus knew what it meant to be
angry. I'm not referring to anger that takes the next step toward
violence. We all understand that violence is sinful, and Jesus would
never tolerate it. When one of his disciples drew his sword and cut
off an enemy's ear at the arrest, Jesus strongly rebuked the
disciple, and ordered his followers to stop the violence.
But
there is another kind of anger. It is that human and natural emotion
that flares in our veins whenever we meet injustice and hypocrisy.
This kind of anger is a natural and God-given resource that keeps us
from despair. This kind of anger is a flicker of hope in the face
what might seem to be insurmountable oppression. It was this kind of
holy and hopeful anger that Jesus felt in the Temple that day.
The
money changers were in the temple because people had to pay the Temple
tax for the sacrifices carried out each day. But it was unlawful to
use coins emblazoned with Roman images, so the people had no choice
but to use the money changers services. What had begun as a religious
practice had turned into a lucrative business.
Jesus'
anger that day fulfilled the prophecies of people like Zechariah and
Jeremiah, who foretold that in the days of the Messiah all would be
holy in Jerusalem and no merchant will be found in the temple.
That's why the people were so startled by Jesus' holy and hopeful
anger and demanded proof that he was indeed the Messiah.
What
makes you angry? I know that for me, I feel anger when I've been
looking forward to something and it doesn't go as planned. I get
angry when I'm doing something I see as important, and am interrupted
by something I see as trivial. But mostly, I get angry with myself
when I fail to live up to my own expectations.
Jesus
gave us so many demands that I continually fail to achieve. Demands
like love my enemies and turn the other cheek when attacked. I
always seem to fall short with commands like forgive 70 times 7,
leave my gift at the altar and first go and seek reconciliation with
my brother, place justice on the same level as worship, see mercy as
more important than dogma. The bar for being a good Christian is set
pretty high, and I know that I'll never reach it. But the anger that
I feel for my shortcomings gives me hope that I will continue to try.
Perhaps
the struggle is more important than the final results.
Righteous
anger has another trait. With one person, righteous anger can bring
hope and resolve. When righteous anger is shared and harnessed among
many, the results can be much more concrete and satisfying.
Fifty
years ago this week, activists attempted to march from Selma to
Montgomery, Alabama in support of the voting rights for Black
Americans in the south. Their peaceful protest was met by state
troopers wielding billy clubs and tear gas. Our nation watched in
shame and horror as the protesters were beaten and imprisoned on what
has become known as “Bloody Sunday.” Later, when Governor
Wallace refused to protect the marchers, President Johnson sent in
the Army and the National Guard to keep order.
The
result of this series of events was the passage of the Voting Rights
Act into law later that year. Righteous anger when shared and acted
upon can bring about lasting change.
Not
all anger is the same. Righteous anger can bring hope. Righteous
anger peacefully exercised can bring about change and justice. But
we can never allow that righteous anger to disintegrate into violence
and hatred. That's the line that Jesus draws in the sand for us. As
we continue our Lenten journey, let us be ever-mindful of this
distinction.
Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
Third Sunday of Lent
March 8, 2015
Painting: Rembrandt, Christ Driving The Money Changers From The Temple (Detail), 1635
