"One with Authority"

John 2: 12-35

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

January 16, 2022

Have we coined a new word yet for the extreme decision fatigue that so many of us are experiencing right now? I’d be willing to bet that many of us have found ourselves in a place sometime in the past month or so where we know we NEED to make a decision about something but find ourselves just kind of blankly staring into space, or bursting into tears, or resorting to flipping a coin. I’d also guess that the amount of time many of us have spent second-guessing our decisions is pretty high, too, right? 

We’re trying to decide simple stuff like what to have for dinner or whether we need a coat (not always easy in Kansas when it can be 70 degrees of -7 degrees in the winter). 

We’re wondering, “Is this sniffle a cold, the flu, COVID, all of the above?” We’re carefully weighing our needs with other people’s needs. 

Many folks are also carrying a level of frustration and anger just under the surface (or, okay, not under the surface) because they feel so tired of making decisions based on what’s good for the whole community when it seems like some people never give a thought to anyone but themselves. 

We’re agonizing over big decisions, like whether it’s safe to get on a plane to see our family. (Only to then have that decision made for us when COVID tests show up positive or flights are canceled.) 

Those in leadership positions are making hard decisions, once again, about how to lead organizations and communities when the ground under our feet keeps shifting and changing. 

And then, of course, there are people making decisions about how to make an insufficient paycheck stretch to buy groceries or make this month’s rent. And parents deciding how to handle an unexpected day or week off of school - not because of something fun like snow but because we don’t have enough staff to keep our schools open. 

People are tired. And the onslaught of huge-big-medium-small-tiny decisions is a major factor in that tiredness. 

Into the midst of this tiredness, the lectionary has served us up cranky Jesus today in the Gospel of John. Now, I don’t actually know if Jesus was tired when he went to Jerusalem for the Passover feast. He may have just been flat-out angry and it may have had nothing to do with exhaustion. I only know that SOME people can get angry when they’re exhausted or overwhelmed or scared. Not pointing any fingers here. 

And Jesus is angry in today’s story. I’ve heard it called Jesus’s Temple Tantrum. Cute, right? 

Except this story isn’t cute. It’s disturbing.  I don’t have any way to sugar coat that or wrap this story up in a neat little bow. Jesus’s zealousness is over-the-top. He flips tables. He puts together a whip to drive the animals out. It’s a lot.  And, really, that can make us feel pretty uncomfortable because Jesus is so out-of-character here. 

My guess is that’s why this story is one that is included in all four gospels. Something about Jesus’s behavior in the temple was so unusual, so shocking that all four authors said, “This is important.”

In the other three gospels Jesus makes this scene in the temple near the end of his life, but in John’s gospel it happens right here at the beginning of his ministry. And so we have to wonder, why does John move it to the beginning? 

Now, this is one of those stories where even the best biblical scholars are left scratching their heads because it can be hard to figure out why, exactly, Jesus is so mad. Jesus is mad when he goes to the temple for Passover and finds it filled with people doing exactly what was common-practice in his religious community at the time. There was nothing scandalous or weird going on. 

Jews like Jesus were required to travel to Jerusalem for the Passover. They were supposed to offer an animal while there. And it had to be an unblemished animal so it didn’t make much sense to bring the animal with you from afar. So you bought an animal once you got there. This is just how it was done. Seems odd to us but would have been utterly unremarkable for them. 

Also: not strange to have money changers there. People came from all over to Jerusalem and many of them had money that wasn’t allowed in the temple. So the money changers were there to help them convert their money into a different currency that was considered to be appropriate. Again, not weird. Just normal.

There’s nothing in John’s version to suggest that anyone was doing anything immoral or dishonest. Nor should we mistakenly assume Jesus was somehow trying to tear down the whole temple system. He’s not railing against his own Jewishness - if anything, he’s leaning into it more fully. He’s passionate, zealous about his Jewish faith here, for sure. 

Theologian Gilberto Ruiz says that scholars have been trying to figure out for centuries what exactly Jesus is AGAINST in this story. But, really, Ruiz says, the better question is what is Jesus FOR. Rather than seeing this story as Jesus being against the economic or religious activity taking place inside the temple, or against the religious institution itself, perhaps it’s more useful to notice that the author of John’s gospel is using this story to make a POSITIVE statement about who Jesus is. That’s probably why it was placed at the beginning of the Gospel. That’s why the whole thing reads like such a spectacle. Because we’re still being introduced to Jesus and the author wants to make sure we really understand who he is. [1] 

And Jesus in John’s gospel is One with Authority. He’s the Word who co-exists with God in the beginning. Nothing comes into being except through him. Jesus refers to God as “my Father” over and over again in this gospel. He exists in a privileged place of authority as God’s own Son with a capital S. Jesus This is the gospel where we hear Jesus call himself “I am,” just as God did centuries before. Jesus says, “I am the way and the truth and the life.”

Jesus is One with Authority in this gospel. One who authoritatively shows up in the world to stand on the side of the oppressed. One who authoritatively comes so that we might have life and have it abundantly. One who authoritatively teaches in parables and through actions, pointing the way to a more just, more loving, more compassionate world. 

One who authoritatively points the way towards what he called the Kingdom of God and Martin Luther King called the Beloved Community: A world where the table is big enough for absolutely everyone. A world where we somehow have the strength to love even our enemies. A world where we bend our weapons into farm tools and focus on the work of holy creation rather than destruction. 

And this feels like good news to me today. 

Good news to those who are weary and burdened. 

Good news for those who can’t make one more decision on their own. 

Good news for those who are disappointed by lack of leadership or flat-out terrible leadership here on earth. 

Good news for all who are looking for hope in the midst of a chaotic world. 

Good news for those who are missing someone they love and good news for those who are sick right now. 

Good news for those who can’t see much further than next week because it’s all too unpredictable or because depression is a liar.

Jesus comes to us - even still - as Ane with Authority. When we can’t read one more story about the bad news out there in the world right now, these ancient stories remind us we are a part of a much bigger story. 

That we are made of stardust and in the image of God. That God is found in temples made by human hands, yes, but God is also found in the wind on our faces, the feel of mud squishing between our toes, and deep within the people we encounter each and every day. That God took on flesh and moved into the neighborhood to come and be with us - and will never leave us. 

Christ reaches out to us in these ancient stories as One with Authority. Bringing good news to a weary world still. Thanks be to God. 

NOTES:

[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/cleansing-the-temple/commentary-on-john-213-25-2