Jesus Unhinged

Every year during Lent the Protestant churches in the town where I was living at the time would get together for services on Wednesday nights.  Churches would take turns hosting, different pastors would lead the services and sometimes the choirs would collaborate on a special piece of music.

The little Methodist church that volunteered to host a service just about every year was always a place of interest for me. The building was somewhat nondescript early twentieth century gothic architecture with dust that was probably older than I was. Painted on the back of the chancel wall was a huge mural.  A blonde haired, blued eyed Jesus sat on the shore of a perfectly blue lake looking dreamily into space with a look of utter serenity.  Lollipop trees surrounded the placid water and it all gathered under an azure sky with cotton candy clouds bathed in golden sunlight.

The whole thing was fairly hideous and I passed the time in worship coming up with names for this mural, like Jesus at Lake Winnipesaukee or Jesus of Sweden visits the Finger Lakes.  I think it may have been the first time I hoped God had a sense of humor.

I was sitting in that little Methodist church staring at that ridiculous mural when I first heard, or at least first really listened to the Gospel story of Jesus in the Temple. Jesus was turning over tables, thrashing a whip, emptying coin coffers, driving out the animals and shouting in anger. The image collided with the mural of Jesus at Lake Winnipesaukee but also every other Jesus image I knew. Most popular images of Jesus, though none of us know what he looked like, are akin to Solomon’s Head of Christ, Jesus with little children, or healing blind Bartimeus, and various images of Jesus on the Cross. Angry Jesus isn’t in the mix.

A little history is helpful, so please bear with me. You may remember that when Jesus was born, Mary and Joseph went to the temple and sacrificed a dove as commanded by the law.  Animals that were to be sacrificed at the temple were to be without blemish. 

The temple sellers that Jesus flipped out on performed a practical service for worshippers.  First, it was easier to buy something upon arrival than to schlep a sheep from the hinterlands.  Second, what kind of bind would a pilgrim be in if, upon inspection, they were told their animal was not suitable for sacrifice?  

Third, the law required that Jews have no graven images and Caesar’s image was on every Roman coin.  Jews, by law could not use Roman coins for a monetary offering at the temple without breaking a religious law they valued.  It is, after all, one of the Big Ten….  So the moneychangers and animal sellers provided an important service that was needed if Temple worship was to continue in faithfulness to the Law. 

It’s important to note that Jesus had no problem with the law itself.  Misinterpreting texts like this one has fanned the flames of anti-Semitism for hundreds of years.  What had Jesus so upset was that this form of worship had become an end in itself.  Worship was no longer about honoring God, it was about crossing the i’s and dotting the t’s. What got Jesus unhinged was the empty piety of it all. No matter how faithfully conceived, it had now gone completely awry.

It’s an honest albeit disconcerting invitation to look at ourselves and what we make important in our religious and spiritual lives. Sometimes we major in the minors and forget the bigger picture of what mean it means to be human in this frail and fragile world.   

But the passion that sparked Jesus’ outburst is still available to all of us…and asks us to pay attention. It’s a passion for justice and faithfulness expressed in deeds of kindness and care, equality and grace.

This Jesus who goes ballistic in the courtyard is the same Jesus who loves the little children, the same Jesus who heals blind Bartimeus and heals the centurion’s daughter. 

This Jesus who is shouting and hollering in the vestibule is the same Jesus who asked the one who was without sin to cast the first stone at the woman who was shoved before him to be judged.

This Jesus, who set the animals free, is the same one who healed the lame and loved the ones no one else could stand to be around.

The loving Savior to whom we pray while we watch and wait at the bedside of our loved ones, is the same loving Savior who weeps at the lack of health care available to the poor.

The gentle Savior whom we seek in the places of our own brokenness and pain is the same gentle Savior who cares for those whose brokenness we find so easy to judge.

This Jesus who is so unhinged and bent out of shape in these acts of anger and outrage is motivated by the same care, love and grace as when we see him in his most tender moments. 

Being a person of faith is, in part, about meeting Jesus as he is in all his humanness. Being a person of faith means that what matters most to us takes a back seat to what matters most to God. It means that what makes us different is eclipsed by the love that makes us one. We would do well to become unhinged by the same things that unhinged Jesus.