Flipping Tables

Next week is Holy Week, the holiest time in the Christian calendar. Even those of us in churches who don’t follow the liturgical calendar pause to observe the last week that Jesus lived on earth. When I read through the gospels the chapters marking the end of Christ’s earthly ministry feel especially sacred.  The story is familiar, yet new with every reading. The Triumphal Entry. The Last Supper. Crucifixion. Death. Burial. And the glorious Resurrection. I have heard these stories since childhood. Flipping tables doesn’t seem to belong here.

Something doesn’t fit

Flipping tables seems dissonant, somehow odd. and out of place. After the events of Palm Sunday where Jesus and his entourage entered Jerusalem to shouts of “Hosanna, Son of David” and “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,” Jesus goes to the Jewish Temple and looks around before going back to Bethany for the evening.

The next morning, he returns to the temple.  He entered the makeshift market where merchants sold doves and sheep for sacrifice and exchanged their local currency for the shekel accepted by the temple priests.

Flipping Tables. Reciting scripture.

And Jesus disrupts the whole operation. He begins flipping tables. All the while, he recites scripture. “My Father’s house is to be a place of prayer for all nations. You have made it a den of thieves.”

Hundreds stand still, mouths agape, their eyes riveted on the Galilean rabbi. They are shocked at his anger, amazed at his audacity. Some run to report the disturbance to Jewish authorities. But no one stops Him.

How long did this upheaval last? Was it a few minutes? Or hours? No one tells us. No one came to arrest him.  Not yet.  Nor does anyone try to stop him. Not even the disciples interrupted his outburst. And as quickly as it began, it ended.

Plotting His death

The frustrated Pharisees grew angrier at Jesus and began to implement the plans they had made to kill him. But the massive crowds continued to listen, spellbound, to every word He speaks.

What difference does it make?

What does this episode mean to us in the twenty-first century? The Temple Jesus so zealously defended is gone, destroyed by the Romans a mere forty years later. The inconvenienced merchants likely gathered up their wares, tracked down their errant livestock, and continued business as usual the next day.

Why is this story in all four gospels? Does it matter to me?

The obvious answer is yes. God allowed its inclusion for a reason.  But let’s consider some of those reasons.

Some reasons for flipping tables

First, the presence of the shops in the outer court of the Temple pushed out any God fearing gentiles who wanted to pray in the Temple area.

  God singled out Abram as the forebear of Messiah. And He promised “I will bless you and make your name great. And in you, all the families of the earth will be blessed.”  God didn’t intend for His message of salvation to be proprietary. He intended for Abram and his descendants to be a “kingdom of priests.”

Stop right there.

The place where the merchants had set up their tables to sell livestock and exchange coins was called the court of the gentiles. In Herod’s temple, it was as far as a gentile could go into the temple complex. A wall, five feet high, with tablets inscribed in Greek and Latin warned gentiles to stay back, on penalty of death.

The merchants were blocking access to God for those on the outside. Their tables stood in the place where outsiders could pray.

Welcome? Maybe.

But we’re not turning people away are we?  Our signs declare “God loves you” and we station greeters at our church doors to make sure no one is turned away. But do we really mean it when we say, “everyone” is welcome? Or do we squirm a bit when someone who hasn’t bathed sits near us, or think the mother should be shown the nursery when a baby cries?

Creating distractions.

Next, the money changers were distracting the worshipers from their reason for being there. While there was a genuine need for travelers who lived in all corners of the empire to exchange money and purchase animals for sacrifice, these transactions could have been completed before entering the temple.

But it’s easier!

Doubtless, it was easier to handle everything in one place. But they had made a holy place into a mundane place of business. Sheep bleated, men argued over prices and such, and the cacophony invaded the thoughts and ears of worshippers.

Flipping tables over flip phones?

What about us? How easy is it for us to bring the distractions of the world into the church? Or into our personal time with God for that matter?

Most of us, me included, carry our phones into church with us on a regular basis. After all, we can read the Bible on it, or even take notes. And, we can give our offering using the church’s app. But how often do notifications catch our attention? It’s easy to allow a text or a notification to draw us into the vortex of the internet.

Liars and cheats lead to flipping tables

Last, the merchants were able to cheat pilgrims arriving to celebrate Passover. While the text doesn’t tell us that they were doing anything dishonest, history tells us many took advantage of the vulnerability of travelers. The priests would reject any animal not purchased from an approved vendor, allowing the sellers to set prices with no competition. And exchange rates were often unfavorable to the pilgrims who had no recourse if they wanted to participate in the required ceremonies. What should have been a time of joy and remembrance could devolve into a stressful, expensive venture.

Surely not us?

Surely this doesn’t apply to us, does it? We don’t exchange currency in the foyer or sell lambs in the parking lot.

But do we value programs over relationships? The gospel is simple. We are all sinners, unable to save ourselves. But Jesus stepped in and took our punishment. He died and was raised on the third day so we could have eternal life too.

No double standards

If we require more than Jesus requires, we are exploiting the vulnerable. When we make laws out of preferences, we create barriers that keep people from a relationship with God. When Paul wrote the Ephesian church, he reminded them that there was no longer a barrier between them and the rest of the temple. The cross took care of that. We should take care that we don’t erect new ones.

Like you, I prefer the pictures of Jesus blessing children or feeding thousands to the picture of him angrily flipping over tables and running merchants out of the temple. But it’s an important picture for us to consider, lest He comes intent on flipping tables.