“He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area…” (John 2:14)
In today’s gospel we have the unforgettable story of the cleansing of the temple. It’s remembered so vividly, of course, because it shows us the anger of Jesus – something we rarely see in Scripture. Generally he’s depicted as gentle and non-violent, but this passage from John portrays him, whip in hand overturning tables, acting in a manner that seems out of character.
What is Jesus so angry about? Is it that there were money changers in the temple? No, they were serving a necessary function, exchanging Roman and Greek coins for currency used to purchase sacrificial offerings. Is it the sale of animals? No, these were intended to be the sacrificial offerings. John tells us that this incident happened just before Passover. There would have been many thousands of pilgrims in Jerusalem, all wanting to visit the temple and offer sacrifice. Services of money changers and animal merchants, therefore, were needed. So what’s going on here?
From biblical scholarship and other historical sources, we learn that money changers were notorious for charging exorbitant exchange rates, taking advantage of the poor who were helpless to protest. What outraged Jesus particularly was that this exploitation was occurring in a sacred place, in the temple where, according to Jewish law, one would expect the highest regard for the poor. Simply stated he was railing against injustice. When, in the words of radio commentator Paul Harvey, we “know the rest of the story,” Jesus’ anger seems more than justified.
As Jesus saw it, unless believers practiced their faith, showed their love of God by loving others, especially those less fortunate than themselves, religion was a mockery. That’s why he frequently castigated religious authorities for hypocrisy -- for doing, prescribing, and allowing practices at odds with what they professed to believe.
According to William Herzog, former dean and scripture professor at Colgate Rochester Divinity School who resides in Pittsford, the money changers were street level representatives of a corrupt temple banking system. As a major economic force in Judean society, the temple amassed great wealth from the annual half-shekel temple tax assessed on every male Jew. Out of this accumulated wealth, loans were made to people who would lose their land if unable to repay. The temple banking system, therefore, had become an instrument of injustice fleecing the poor to benefit the powerful. This is what enrages Jesus who makes pursuing justice the centerpiece of his ministry.
Throughout the Old Testament a major recurring theme is fidelity to the demands of relationship. One important demand of relationship is to treat all people justly. This stems from the commandment first recorded in the Book of Leviticus: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus equates loving neighbor to the commandment in the Book of Deuteronomy: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your might.” Love of neighbor, love of God, and doing justice were all tied together. In fact, for him you love God no more than the person you love least.
Time after time in Old Testament history God sent prophets to protest against injustice. In Deuteronomy the Israelites are commanded: “Justice, justice you shall pursue,” especially for the vulnerable and powerless -- orphans, widows, aliens, the poor, debtors, and slaves. In Deuteronomy, Leviticus, Isaiah, and Micah, they’re admonished to share bread with the hungry, shelter the homeless, clothe the naked; to be honest in using standards of weight and measure; to refrain from coveting or seizing property or cheating people out of their inheritance.
Through the prophet Isaiah the Lord commanded: “Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes…make justice your aim. Through the prophet Amos: “Let justice surge like water, and goodness like an unfailing stream.” Through the prophet Micah: “What does the Lord require of you but to do Justice?”
For observant Jews, treating people fairly, insuring they have the means to live a decent life and to play an appropriate role in society isn’t a matter of charity, it’s a matter of justice. When are people just? When they are in right relationship with their God; with their brothers and sisters; and with the whole of created reality. When do people love? When they feel another person’s need to be as important as their own.
As Abraham Joshua Heschel put it, “To us a single act of injustice – cheating in business, exploitation of the poor – is slight; to the prophets, a disaster. To us injustice is injurious to the welfare of the people; to the prophets it is a deathblow to existence; to us, an episode; to them, a catastrophe, a threat to the world.” That explains why Jesus, both the fulfillment of Jewish law and greatest of all prophets, reacted as he did that day in the temple.
Under the glass on my desk at work is a bumper sticker I picked up years ago during a visit to the campus of the University of California at Berkley. It reads: “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.” Obviously in today’s gospel Jesus is paying attention.
A remarkable Hasidic rabbi, Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev in Ukraine, used to say that he had discovered the meaning of love from a drunken peasant. The rabbi was visiting the owner of a tavern in the Polish countryside. As he walked in, he saw two peasants at a table. Both were obviously feeling the effects of their drink. Arm around each other, they were protesting how much each loved the other. Suddenly Ivan said to Peter: “Peter, tell me, what hurts me?” Bleary-eyed Peter looked at Ivan: “How do I know what hurts you?” Ivan’s answer was swift: “If you don’t know what hurts me, how can you say you love me?”
There are lots of people hurting in the world today. Sometimes you don’t have to look any farther than the person next to you. Reminiscent of what Jesus did in cleansing the temple, we, as 21st century disciples, must cleanse ourselves of attitudes and behaviors that prevent us from seeing and responding to hurt wherever we find it. Admittedly the need is great, perhaps even overwhelming, but that doesn’t relieve us from our obligation to do justice, not talk about it, not beat our breasts about it, but to do justice. One person can make a difference. And every person must try.
The child born drug addicted; the child victimized by domestic violence; the child gunned down in the street. The teenage runaway exploited. The senior citizen forced to choose between food and medicine. The minority person discriminated against. The Zimbabwe native dying of starvation. Any doubt Jesus would be outraged? Paying attention?
Anthony J. Sciolino
Dedication of the Lateran Basilica.
November 9, 2003. (Cycle B)
Ezekiel 47:1-2, 8-9
Corinthians 3:9-11, 16-17
John 2:13-22.