When we read the Gospels, we are faced with a variety of challenges. One of the subtle, often-overlooked, issues is that of what could be called “life parallels.” We read something in the Gospels, watching something Jesus does or listening to what he says, and we can sometimes mistakenly make a direct “life parallel” to our own world and situation . . . where it might not actually be the case.
One prominent example is the Temple. As recorded in the Gospels, Jesus visited the Temple in Jerusalem a number of times. And, we might be tempted to draw a direct life parallel between the Temple in Jesus’ day and our church. But such a parallel is not, perhaps, truly appropriate.
The Temple was the sole, God-ordained place for sacrifice to be offered. There were very specific regular, as well as annual, rituals to perform. And although God’s presence was manifest in the inner most part of the Temple, the Temple probably reminded people of their distance from God rather than underscored his nearest to them. (And that idea was radically altered when, in Jesus’ dying, the veil of the Temple separating the people from their God, was ripped in two, from top to bottom!) This differs greatly from “church” as pictured in the New Testament.
But we sometimes don’t realize that distinction. So, for example, when we come to the passage in the Gospel of Mark where Jesus “cleanses the Temple,” we might end up trying to make sense of the passage and apply it in the wrong way. Mark wrote:
Then they came to Jerusalem. And He entered the temple and began to drive out those who were buying and selling in the temple, and overturned the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of those who were selling doves; and He would not permit anyone to carry merchandise through the temple. And He began to teach and say to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a robbers’ den.” (Mark 11:15-17).
Perhaps you have heard this passage applied by someone saying something like . . .
We shouldn’t sell stuff on the church property.
There is something special about our church because it is God’s house.
But such ideas betray a misappropriation of this passage. (It’s not that some case might not be made for such ideas, but it would be hard to insist that such things are what Jesus is intending to teach by what he did in the Temple.)
For the follower of Jesus, there are no God-ordained places for sacrifice; one sacrifice has already been made–the cross of Jesus wholly and in a holy way replaced all sacrifices. According to the author of the letter to the Hebrews, the Temple was a shadow, a picture, of what was real. It was intended to point to something; it wasn’t the something. And, the church in the New Testament is not a stand in for the Temple. Also, Paul makes clear, in his letters, that God’s dwelling place is now in the hearts and lives of the followers of Jesus.
So, there is no direct “life parallel” between the Temple in Jerusalem and the church you might attend. But, if that is the case, then what are we to learn from Jesus’ “cleansing of the Temple”? Is there something for us to see there?
Maybe the thing for contemporary readers of the Gospel to grasp in this passage is less about “sacred buildings” and more about Jesus in the midst of normal “religious” life.
Jesus steps into what looks like a very “lively” religious setting. But he doesn’t see what he thinks ought to characterize life with the Father. It’s really not so much about the place but about the people who are acting as if they are religious.
They don’t privilege prayer. Jesus does. They don’t welcome others. Jesus does. They are self-consumed and concerned about what’s in it for themselves. Jesus isn’t. It really is about how Jesus is looking at things . . . and not so much what he is specifically looking at.
If I put my attention on who is in the Temple and what matters most to him, then his “cleansing of the Temple” becomes much more powerful and provocative . . . and I don’t end up simplifying the idea to whether we sell books in the lobby of the church building.
I wonder how Jesus looks at what I do?
Do I privilege real conversation with God over appearance? Do I see worship as an occasion to invite and welcome others to join me in approaching God? Does genuine worship characterize my days, or just religious kind of busy-ness?