Lent

Beyond the Sanctuary of the Sanctuary

John 2:13-22

The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” 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; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.


Thursday night, in our Bethel Bible Series class, we found ourselves discussing the work of Martin Luther King, Jr. and about how strategic his non-violent Civil Rights Movement was in this country… How he took intentional advantage of the prolific media coverage he knew his actions would receive – if he only knew how prolific media coverage could be, just a few decades later, right?!?

But we talked about how he banked on the photos and videos and news reports of the violent responses to his non-violent actions… How he hoped white America – and the rest of the world, too – would see the images of police dogs attacking peaceful protestors.

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How he hoped white America – and the rest of the world, too – would see the fire hoses turned onto marchers dressed in their Sunday best.

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How he hoped white America – and the rest of the world, too – would see the beatings and the abuse and the arrests of innocent African-American men and women, boys and girls.

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And about how he hoped white America – and the rest of the world – would respond with revulsion and revolution against the injustice made plain to them by this ugliness.

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And until they saw it for themselves, too many people were able to deny or pretend it was something other than as shameful and sinful and wrong, as every bit of it was.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was as peaceful as he was persistent. He was as wise as he was faithful. He was as clever as he was courageous. He knew exactly what he was doing and what he did was change the state of race relations – and the status of African-American people – in our country and in the world, for the better. And he learned so much of his strategy, of course, from the God he knew in Jesus Christ.

And I thought about all of that again for this morning, because some people are under the impression that Jesus walked into the temple in Jerusalem on the day we just heard about and that he was surprised to find the cattle, the sheep, the doves and the money changers doing their thing; that he showed up for worship or for prayers – being the good, faithful Jew that he was – and that he was caught off-guard to see “the market-place” that set him off.

But back in Jesus’ day, it was common for things to be sold in and around the Temple. Because the celebration of Passover was right around the corner, Jews from all over the known world were traveling to Jerusalem in order to celebrate the holiday. Since it was difficult to travel with animals and because animal sacrifice was an important, necessary part of Jewish worship, those who came to Jerusalem had to buy the animals they were expected to sacrifice, once they got into the city. Jesus, again as a good, faithful Jew, may even have done this himself more than once in his day.

Now there is all kind of reason to believe the merchants in the temple were ripping off those who came to buy their animals. It’s believed they made them use special currency and exchanged it unfairly and that the animals were probably being sold for more money than they were worth – maybe like the difference you pay for a hot dog at Lucas Oil Stadium versus what you’d pay for the same, if you bought it at the store and cooked it yourself.

So when Jesus shows up in the temple at the time of the high festival of the Passover – the Super Bowl of Jewish festivals, you might say – and when he starts cracking whips and tossing tables and pouring out money and herding cattle toward the door, he knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t just about the selling of things. It wasn’t even just about the high prices of those things, though that would have gotten everyone’s attention, for sure.

Jesus was staging a one-man protest. And he was protesting the powers-that-were. He meant to turn over, not just tables and coin boxes, but the whole Temple system of it all. He meant to drive out, not just the cattle and the sheep, but the whole practice of an empty, superficial, superstitious sacrificial system. He meant to point out and to call everyone’s attention to himself and to what he came for in the first place: to focus their attention – and the world’s – on what was to be the center of their faith, the object of their devotion, the source of their salvation going forward, his very self.

In other words, the times they were a-changing, or they were supposed to be, and Jesus wanted everyone to know it. The way to God’s heart of hearts wasn’t through the practice of sacrificing in the temple any longer. Jesus, himself was to be a new, better, different, complete kind of sacrifice. He was angry and God was still weary of the hypocritical, half-hearted, misguided worship of God’s people. There weren’t enough cattle, sheep or doves to burn on God’s altar that would do the trick of redeeming what was broken in the world. Jesus, the Son of God, came to fulfill all the law and the prophets. And he would – by his own destruction and resurrection – redeem and restore the world to the God who created it.

In still other words… in words that might speak to the likes of you and me, these days… God still desires more than just this… God desires more than just our ceremonial singing and our ritualistic repentance. God desires more than just placating the problems that surround us with “thoughts and prayers,” no matter how faithful or well-intended they may be. God desires that our worship and our devotion and our service and our sacrifice take place beyond the sanctuary of the sanctuary, if you will.

So I wonder what that looks like for each of us, for Cross of Grace, for God’s church in the world. Of course there may be as many different answers and action plans as there are people in this room, or churches in the community, or faith communities in the world. But what if we start close to home? What if we start by looking in the mirror?

What is it that stirs you? What is it that makes your heart beat a little faster? What is it you would do, for the sake of the kingdom, that feeds you and fuels you? … that could keep you up at night? …that you’d do for free and for fun? For what might you turn over some tables or stage a protest, if you had the chance?

Whatever the case, what Jesus shows us in this morning’s Gospel – and what the likes of Martin Luther King, Jr. prove – is that the work of the faithful people of God can be a hard, holy road. When Jesus drops that line about destroying the temple, he knew just how hard and holy it would become for him. He knew he was to be the new temple – that his passion would lead him to suffer, to be crucified, killed and raised from the dead – wherein lies the source of our own purpose, our own passion, and our one and only most reliable hope.

So may our passions be inspired by the abundant love of God, in Jesus Christ, broken and poured out for the sake of the world. May our purpose – as individuals and as a community of faith – be grounded in the same grace, mercy and peace we see in him. And may we go about our work with more faith than fear, prepared, not just for whatever sacrifice and struggle might find us along the way, but prepared, too, for the redemption and new life that will come for us and through us when we do.

Amen
 

The Temptation of Redemptive Violence

Mark 8:31-38

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.


Two weeks ago we explored the story of Jesus transfigured on the mountain. If you recall, that message centered on the idea of cruciform discipleship. Today’s gospel story is the scene that unfolds immediately prior to the ascent up the mountain, making today’s message something of a prequel. 

The scene begins following Jesus’ question to the disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” To which Peter replied, “You are the Messiah.” 

Today’s gospel scene makes a pretty bold and startling claim about what being the Messiah actually means. Namely, it involves great suffering, rejection, and death. Resurrection, yes; but by the time that bit of good news gets to Peter’s ears, he has already stopped listening. And chances are, we have stopped listening also.

Peter rebukes Jesus for talking about suffering, rejection, and death; just as he will do again a few verses later on the mountain in the presence of the transfigured Christ. Peter suggests Jesus has it all wrong because that’s not how the story is supposed to go. Suffering? Rejection? Death? No, no, and no. Their ancestors already been there and done that for far too long.

The Messiah was to usher in a new age of peace and prosperity for God’s chosen people; an age of peace and prosperity that would come about once they have had the chance to engage in all the nasty, violent, angry, evil stuff against their enemies. The people who had endured generations of great suffering, rejection, and death were ready to dish it out in kind, teaching their enemies a lesson. Peace would follow, but only after more violence. It would only be fair and just.

It was an approach to peace-making modeled efficiently by millennia of occupiers; most recently, Rome. Caesar was Lord. Caesar promised and brought the good news of peace to the nations; albeit, a peace produced by the blade of a sword. All who threatened the peace were killed. This system had worked incredibly well for the Romans as their boundaries spread into multiple continents. The Hebrew people were simply awaiting their turn, when their Lord would come, lead them into battle, and vanquish all their enemies so they could finally enjoy the blood-stained peace for which they had fought.

There’s something tempting about the notion of repaying violence with violence. Something exciting, invigorating, alluring, and even instinctive. It’s a very human thing. Repaying an insult with an insult. Passing and cutting off a driver who cut you off. Wishing some degree of bad fortune on “those people.” Killing people who kill people. Repaying violence with violence…the examples are everywhere. 

Last week I went to the theater to watch a movie and most of the movie previews preceding the show were about a man who had something awful happen to him so he sets off to kill everyone who could have had a hand in it. There are so many movies that tell this same story because it is a fool-proof formula for profit. People are willing to pay to watch someone use violence to rectify the world and rid it of the violent people. It speaks to a very human part of our nature. And it is tempting to see this as an appropriate way to engage with the world. 

If there had been theaters instead of gladiator games for entertainment in these times, Peter would have wanted a Bruce Willis-type Messiah. After all Die Hard is a much better title for a movie about a Savior than Suffer, Be Rejected, and Die.

The desire to use violence to rid the world of violence is a human thing. Which is why Jesus rebukes Peter’s rebuke with the statement, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Revenge is a human thing; not a divine thing. The myth of redemptive violence (the idea that violence is an appropriate response to violence) is a human thing; not a divine thing. 

Notice, that Jesus refers to Peter as “Satan.” The first reference to Satan in Mark’s gospel was when Jesus went into the wilderness following his baptism, where he was tempted by Satan for 40 days and 40 nights. Satan is temptation personified. And the only things that tempt us are the things we crave but know that we should avoid. 

We confess Jesus was fully divine and fully human. In this exchange with Peter, Jesus’ full human-ness is on display. Peter tells him he should walk down the path of victory through violence. Jesus is tempted; otherwise he would have not have called Peter the name of temptation personified. For an instant he peers into that probable future of might, conquest, and revenge. But then he turns his back on the tempter. Jesus looks at his disciples and fully commits himself to the path that will lead to victory through suffering, rejection, and death. Not only does he commit to follow this path, but he instructs any who would follow him to pick up their cross and walk the same path.

There is much that needs to be said about the myth of redemptive violence – the idea that violence can be used as an instrument of good. I cannot adequately unpack this profound idea in a few minutes here, but I would like to point to the words of theologian Walter Wink, who writes, 

"The myth of redemptive violence is the simplest, laziest, most exciting, uncomplicated, irrational, and primitive depiction of evil the world has ever known…. By making violence pleasurable, fascinating and entertaining, the Powers are able to delude people into compliance with a system that is cheating them of their very lives."*

Violence begets violence; and violent actions are just as deadly for the perpetuator as the victim.

Jesus’ instruction to pick up crosses and follow him are not just prohibitions against violence. It is more an invitation to live a full life that exudes the divine force of peace throughout the world. 

Consider Jesus’ call as an invitation for you to notice when the tempting tunes of violence and revenge sing their siren songs. Notice when the voice in your head turns violent, insisting that either you yourself or those people over there deserve to be punished. Boldly proclaim the same mantra Jesus used when he was tempted, “Get behind me, Satan.”

Amen.

 

* Walter Wink. The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millennium