"My Father's House" - Sermon for the Second Sunday after Epiphany (Narrative Lectionary 4)

My Father’s House
Epiphany 2 – Narrative Lectionary 4
January 19, 2014
Grace, Mankato, MN
John 2.13-25

Today we have John’s version of the cleansing of the temple and I imagine it is causing no small amount of cringing in the pews across our land. Some people are cringing because we have gone from Jesus’ joyous gift of wine in the wedding at Cana last week to Jesus’ angry expulsions in the temple this week. Others are cringing because we usually read this text during Lent when Jesus is on the way to the cross and it seems out of place. But I suspect the most cringing comes from women’s groups, service groups, and youth groups who regularly set up tables in the narthex to solicit support for their worthy causes. They are cringing with good reason. Once a year, their normally gracious and mild-mannered pastor morphs into the Incredible Hulk and attempts to do some temple (or narthex) cleansing of their own, verbally lashing the faithful into repentance and submission.

Well, can we step back, take a deep breath and see if we can prevent green skin and split clothes? I think this story does challenge us, but in a way that can make a difference in our lives. As we have seen, John’s gospel operates on many levels and invites us into the mystery it presents to us in each of those levels. Jesus and the people he meets seem to talk past each other, yet he invites them into a relationship with God. The Gospel of John assumes that people are seeking a relationship with God, whether they know it or not. So, early on in this Jesus story, he prods us into asking where we look for and find God. With his actions in the temple, Jesus says it is to be found in a person more so than a place.

It is important to note that, unlike the other Gospels, Jesus doesn’t call the courtyard a “den of robbers.” In fact, the selling of animals and the changing of currency were important services to pilgrims coming to Jerusalem to worship in the temple. Animals were needed for sacrifice and it was much easier to purchase them in Jerusalem than to bring your own. Similarly, the tax to support the mission and ministry of the temple needed to be paid in Jewish currency, not Roman, which contained the image of Caesar. Both of these were activities done with good intentions, but they had taken on a life of their own. The scene was noisy and chaotic at best, but also hindering non-Jews from praying in the only place they could at worst.

A number of years ago, my friend Susie lost her job and her sister Linda gave her some interesting advice. The first thing she should do to find a new one was to clean her apartment. (If you knew Susie you would know this was no small feat.) The idea was that, once she got her personal life in order she’d be prepared for her professional one. So, one thing our text prompts us to consider is those things in our life getting in the way of our relationship with God? What are the things that are good but have taken on a life of their own, limiting our relationships? What might be clogging up our lives, preventing us from the abundant life Jesus came to give?

This past year especially, as we have been living into God’s intention for us, I’ve wondered about some things. As I look at all of the ministry we do, both here but also outside our doors, I’ve wondered if we are doing too much even though everything we do is good and important to somebody. More importantly, I’ve wondered if we are doing the right things, those particular ministries that God wants us to be doing, and wondering if we’d be better instruments for God by going deeper rather than broader. Most importantly, I’ve wondered if some of things we do are hindering our walks with God rather than helping.

I also ask the questions about my personal and professional lives: what, if anything, is in the way? Please know that I don’t have any answers, but as your pastor I think we have to talk about this. That doesn’t mean beating ourselves up, defending our particular turfs or getting green and mean. It means asking Jesus to do in our lives what he promises, to help us lose ourselves to find ourselves. It means remembering the God who took on human flesh and died continues to go to great lengths for us. That’s not something to cringe at, but to welcome so that in the midst of chaos we find abundant life. Let’s talk. Amen.