And it's worth considering the immersive experience of the temple at the time of Jesus. Jesus, when he walks into the temple, sees the masses of animals and money changers there, and becomes immediately furious with what he sees, and why wouldn't he? For the temple would be even more of an immersive experience than a modern worship service. As I said on Sunday, we know that there were animals in the temple, we know that there were money changers, but what we don't think about are the sounds, the smells, of being in a space covered with this kind of nonsense.
If you're someone of a certain age, you may find yourself bothered by the noises in an existing service, the children crying, the kids eating snacks, and all the attendant issues that brings. But here's the thing - imagine yourself in the temple in the first century, and imagine how loud it would be. The cattle would be lowing, no doubt, and the sheep bleating, the money changers trying to do business, and all the people there as well. And if that's not enough for you, imagine the smells. There's a reason that we don't do live nativity scenes inside the church, and that reason has something to do with how much plastic sheeting we would have to put down. Yes, that's right, this scene from the Gospels comes with a whole lot of real world immersion, and a lot of real world, quite literal BS.
You do realize that in the Temple, there would have been tons of garbage all over the place. And when Jesus shows up at the Temple, he shows up to drive it all out. All the layers of filth, all the
You may not know this, but this picture is really clever. |
It gets to that point, you know. It gets to that point, where you can lose sight of what's really important in the face of all the decor and accompaniments. It gets to the point where you can't see what you prioritize, based on all the attendant stuff that goes along with it. That happens for real, and it happened for the Jews at the time of Christ. These were people who had been told in their holy book that God took no pleasure in burnt offerings, who were told that God wanted them to rend their hearts and not their garments, but they still continued to default to the standard, the desire to make their faith, their worship, about what they were doing, and about their sacrifices, their money, and so on. Their BS.
So when Jesus drives the animals out, when he drives out the money changers, when he scatters the coins and drives out those selling animals, what is left? Jesus is left. And when Jesus is left, those in the temple ask him by what authority he does these things, and he replies 'destroy this temple, and I will raise it up in three days.' Of course, they think he is referring to the temple around him, but he is actually referring to the temple of his body.
And what Jesus has done is to remove all the distractions, to drive out all the mess, all the nonsense, all the barriers, and to leave himself at the centre of it all. The temple has been laid bare, and there is only Christ at the centre of it, and him crucified.
This is what our Epistle reading for this week was all about. It was all about Paul wanting to preach only Christ and him crucified. And that's it. All the rest of our faith is decoration, is accessories. But accessories, garnish, they're only good as long as they bring out the best in what we want to be focused on to begin with. If they don't, then they're useless to us. And that brings us to lent. This season in which all the distractions go away. All the usual distractions we have all around us, all the usual things we have that occupy our thoughts, all the things that draw focus away from Christ and him crucified, all those things go away during Lent. And in Lent, all we're left with is the stark reality of the cross. All the banners, the paraments, the decor, the accessories, they all go away, and all we're left with, by the end of the time of Lent, is the cross, bare and naked before us. The reaction that we have to it, by the time that Good Friday rolls around, should be similar to what officer Malus has at the end of the Wicker Man. And yes, before you ask, the good version of the Wicker Man. The stark reality of the cross is something that we forget every once in a while, and that's what the season of Lent helps us with. It breaks down all the distractions, everything that stands between us and Christ crucified. All the distractions melt away, and we get to see the reality of what we believe in with clarity. We can see what we believe in, and why it's important. We can see the cross of Christ, and beyond it, the empty tomb. The celebration of Easter means all the more if you've voyaged through the wilderness of Lent, if you've seen the temple laid bare, if you've been at the foot of the cross, then the resurrection, the breaking of death itself, the unweaving of the fabric of entropy, it means something. And that's what we believe in. In Lent, we finally have the focus to see it.
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