Third Sunday in Lent (Violet), rcl yr b, Sunday, March 3rd, 2024
EXODUS 20:1-17; PSALM 19; 1 CORINTHIANS 1:18-25; JOHN 2:13-22

But he was speaking of the temple of his body

So, when exactly does the clearing of the temple take place? Because it seems we have a disagreement at the highest of levels. Matthew’s Gospel has it near the end of Jesus’s public ministry of teaching. Mark’s Gospel has it near the end of Jesus’s public ministry of teaching. And Luke’s Gospel has it near the end of Jesus’s public ministry of teaching.

But John’s Gospel? Here it is, right at the beginning. Chapter 2! Jesus hasn’t done much more than call disciples and turn water into wine at the Wedding at Cana. No small thing. But there’s a whole lot more yet to come.

So which is it? When does the clearing of the temple take place? Near the end of Jesus’s ministry, or at the beginning of it?

There is certainly value in historic investigations into Scripture and Jesus’s life. But in reading Scripture as Scripture, we end up having to contend with the fact  that while the gospel writers do write and share with us the shape of Jesus’s life, and do intend to share the reality of a real historical person, historical accuracy is not always what they are most interested in.

On the big things—the ministry of healing, the calling of disciples, the passion and the empty tomb—on these things the Gospels are consistent. But in reading the Bible as Scripture, what we have to contend with is that the Gospel writers are doing theology too, and that this theology is centred on the reality of the resurrection. As John’s Gospel puts it today: “After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.”

There is a way, here, in which the resurrection has transformed the minds of the disciples. And they began to remember things according to their newly founded relation with God through Jesus the resurrected one.

This idea is not that foreign to us though. Sometimes we hear some surprising news about someone and then we remember things they said a bit differently. It’s what make good TV shows worth rewatching, and good books worth rereading. I just rewatched True Detective season 1; the first time through, you find out who the big bad is late in the season. But the second time through, early appearances of the big bad become much more menacing, because now you know what he is really up to. And this is because we see the story differently when we know how it ends. Films like Memento are all about the way we see things differently once we know about some other thing that happens later.

For the disciples this is a real-life thing. They know how it ends, with the crucifixion and the resurrection; and now they remember some strange stuff that Jesus says about the Temple, and they remember it differently. In fact it seems that the first time they heard it they thought what Jesus said was so odd and weird that they just dismissed it. But now, in the light of the resurrection, they know what Jesus meant when he says “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The first time they heard it it was bewildering. Three days? A temple takes decades to complete. “But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this.”

What John’s Gospel wants to help us see by putting Jesus’s cleansing of the temple, and his words about how he was speaking of himself as the temple, what John’s Gospel wants us to see is that all the rest of what Jesus does in the Gospel—the healings, the hanging out around the dinner table, the teachings, all this should be seen in terms of Jesus as the new temple.

Jewish worship would begin to centre around the synagogue, but the temple still looms large in Jewish religious imagination. John’s Gospel takes a different tack, and Christian faith becomes less about the Jerusalem temple and more about dwelling with Jesus, the Jesus who is the temple and the centre of our faith, our prayers, and our worship. Christian worship, Christian prayer, and the Christian life all now centres around Jesus and our dwelling with him.

Places of worship—buildings and such—are still important, as the Christian community would quickly come to understand. But the word made flesh, the God who dwells with us in the person of Jesus, the Jesus who invites us to dwell with him, this Jesus becomes far more central to the Christian faith than any temple.

And our church buildings are a reflection of this. This sanctuary is built so that we may come together around an altar on which is prepared the bread and wine that is Jesus himself, his own flesh and blood, shared with us that we might come closer to him. We gather now around the resurrected one; and our buildings serve this as a primary purpose.

It is likely that we should see the clearing of the temple in similar terms. When Jesus drives out of the temple the moneychangers, and the people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, when Jesus pours out the coins of the moneychangers and overturns their tables, this is probably not about selling things after church in the Upper Parish Hall.(Which is good news for anyone who likes cookies.)

David Ford puts it this way: “The twentieth century … open[ed] the way for the global dominance of money-centred capitalism. How can God be worshiped and loved with all our heart, mind, soul and strength in the face of the attraction and power of money? How can imaginations and desires shaped by advertising, economic incentives and imperatives, and fear of need be freed to delight in and serve God and other people?Can zeal for God and the worship of God compete for attention and time with the attractions of earning money and consuming?”

What is at stake here when Jesus drives out the moneychangers from the temple is who it is we serve. If Jesus is the temple that is destroyed, and after three days is raised up, then the clearing of the temple is a way of Jesus underlining his own centrality to our lives. It is an admonition to place Jesus at the centre of our lives, rather than the pursuit of money, or the consumption of goods. Jesus is claiming a place far more central to our lives than making the money so we can buy the things.

This does still have something to do with our places of worship though. I think we can take our partnership with the Working Centre as a good example. They are, technically, a renter. But when we add up the work done by the wardens, and our property people like Dave Sapelak, and our caterer Angus Sheach (to name a few), when we add up all we do to help make this work, it really is a partnership of a sort.

And why would we put in this work, why would we have St. John’s Kitchen come and take up space with us? Do we do it just for the rental income? The income is good, don’t get me wrong; but if our only motivation in welcoming people into our building is money—then we are at risk of having Jesus coming in and reminding us who it is we serve and who it is that is central to the life if this building. But if we see inviting rental partners into this space as a way of serving Jesus, a way of coming closer to Jesus, as a way of inviting others into the love of Jesus, then we are on much safer ground.

If Jesus is our temple, and if Jesus is the one with whom we would dwell and share our life, and if our buildings are meant for this mutual indwelling of us with Jesus and Jesus with us, then this place already isn’t actually ours. It already belongs to Jesus. And if this is the case, we don’t welcome people into our space. We don’t even welcome people into a space that belongs to Jesus. Jesus welcomes all of us—me, Mindy and Bette, all the way to Lincoln and newest newcomer, Jesus is welcoming all of us into a space that is already his.

Jesus is the host of hosts, the one who welcomes each of us into the temple that is Jesus himself, that each of us might dwell more closely with him.