Tag Archives: Jesus Christ

The Cleansing of the Temple

I developed my homily yesterday about Jesus cleansing of the temple using some of the material from my previous post, and I began by inviting the people to see what the temple area is like today.

“If you were fortunate to go to Jerusalem today–maybe “fortunate” isn’t the way to see it, given the upheaval there now– you would see where the Jewish Temple, the place described in our gospel today, once stood, where Jesus once prayed and where, as our gospel today says, he drove out the buyers and sellers.

A guide would surely lead you to the “wailing wall,” the ancient temple’s western wall, where Jews today pray according to their religious traditions. That wall was part of the platform for the former temple.

A guide would surely point out what an engineering marvel Herod the Great, the temple’s builder, achieved. How did he quarry these immense stones and put them in place!  This place was a wonder of the ancient world.

Your guide would lead you up to the temple mount itself where the ancient temple buildings once stood. He would point out some of the stones from the building burned and leveled by Roman armies in the year 70 AD, when the Romans destroyed the city.

You would also see the great golden domed Moslem shrine that stands in the place of the Jewish temple and the mosque that stands on the platform where the temple once stood.

You would see firsthand some of the tightest security in the world in place. This is a sensitive area where the least incident could lead to a political explosion heard around the globe.

Then, your guide might take you to the southern part of the temple area, where archeologists have uncovered the stairs that Jewish pilgrims took to enter the temple in the time of Jesus. You would see the baths where they purified themselves with water before entering this sacred place.

Surely, your guide would tell you. “Jesus walked up these stairs.” And as today’s gospel says, he walked towards the place where people were buying and selling and created an incident.”

A number of people after Mass remarked that they had never realized what consequences the cleansing of the temple had for Jesus. It was the act that decided his fate.

Some asked also about the role of the Jews in his death.  There are recent stories in the media about this. Is the Catholic Church holding the Jews responsible?

No. It isn’t. I wonder if an analogy can be drawn from our present involvement in Iraq. Should the American people be held responsible for the barbaric torture of people in our war there? I hope not.

I think the temple incident clarifies that question. I believe the guardians of the Jewish temple, the elite who benefitted economically and politically from this important religious place, who were tied to the Roman establishment of the day, were the prime movers who brought Jesus to his death.

It’s important not to lose sight of the fundamental reason Jesus wanted to cleanse the temple. It signified God’s presence and guidance of his people.  First, God is present in us as individuals : “Don’t you know that you are the temple of God and his Spirit dwells in you.” Jesus himself recognized this usage.

But God is present in our world and all its institutions too. The psalms often proclaim that God is king of all the earth. That doesn’t mean just the physical world. Our businesses, our schools, our political structures, our cities and nations are God’s too; he wishes them to be holy and just and true.

It’s a temptation today to give up on our institutions, to criticize and blame them.  We as individuals and the institutions that make up our world are always in need of reform.  We are not perfect, but we must strive to be, guided by God and his grace.

3rd Sunday of Lent

In Jesus’ time, the temple was the center of Jewish life and worship. Its long history began when King Solomon built the first temple in Jerusalem in 960 BC,  in the city founded by his father, King David. Within it he placed the Ark of the Covenant, containing the stone tablets on which the commandments given to Moses by God on Mount Sinai were inscribed.

The temple was a holy sign of God’s presence and continual guidance of his people.

Solomon’s temple suffered a grave blow when it was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BC. Rebuilt by the Jews under the Persian ruler, Cyrus, it was threatened again in 167 BC when Antiochus Epiphanes tried to end Jewish worship in it and substitute a cult of his own. A fierce Jewish revolt under the Maccabees regained its possession and the temple was rededicated to the worship of God in 164 BC.

In 20 BC Herod the Great began a massive rebuilding of the temple on a grand scale as a sign of his own Jewish piety and to impress his overlords, the Romans. Herod’s temple — its ruins can be seen today in Jerusalem — stood till its destruction by the Romans in 70 AD. Jesus worshipped there, while it was still being built.

Jesus’ cleansing of the temple, which three gospels report, was a startling and provocative act. Certainly, his words about destruction triggered an alarm for the guardians of this venerable place and caused them to take steps to stop this trouble-maker from Galilee. If he overturned the tables in the entrance way and drove people out, what would he do next?

But Jesus claimed that he himself was the new temple; he was the new lawgiver who came to fulfill God’s command of love. He is God’s presence; the Word dwelling among us and in whom we dwell.

Lent calls us to personal reform, but doesn’t it call for reform and rededication of institutions as well? We may think right away of some of the world’s secular institutions that need it–like banks and governments. But how about our churches, parishes, our religious communities–don’t they need reform too?

Is this action of Jesus a reminder that God sees the whole world as his temple, and wants it to be a place of  justice and truth?

As once you came into the temple, come to us, Lord Jesus,
and cleanse us from all that makes us unholy.

Silence the noise that prevents us hearing you,
and help us see when we are blind.
Turn over the barriers that block your word,
drive away the distractions that stop our awareness of you.

Give us the wisdom of your commandments.
For you command only what is good,
We are temples of the living God,
help us to know who we are.

Lord, I cry

“‘Lord, I have cried to you, hear me.’ This is a prayer we can all say. This is a prayer  of  the whole Christ.”
In the selection from his great commentary on the psalms found in today’s readings, Augustine sees them as universal prayers. They’re not just prayers of an anonymous person from long ago, or prayers that have become part of Jewish worship or Christian worship, or even prayers I make my own today.

“This is not my prayer, but the prayer of the whole Christ.”

The psalm he calls a prayer of the whole Christ is a cry of pain, of fear. Hardly any words to it at all.  Christ prayed like this in the darkness of the garden of Gethsemani, the saint says, when his sweat became drops of blood. His prayer was not made of well-framed thoughts, it was the groaning of his heart.

All the cries of human heart are in that cry of Christ, Augustine continues, and his prayer does not end.  The story of the Passion of Jesus does not end. The garden is an everywhere, a timeless place, and his cry embraces all.

But the cries of Jesus are heard, the saint concludes, his pain and fear are taken away. Resurrection came for him, and it comes to those who are united to him.

Gospel stories: Mirrors for seeing ourselves

The gospel stories are like mirrors that help us see ourselves and what we should be, St. Asterius says in today’s readings. (Can’t find anything about him in my limited dictionaries of the saints). He’s reading the parable of the Good Shepherd, who leaves the sheep at pasture to search for the stray.

“He crosses many valleys and thickets, he climbs great and towering mountains, he spends much time and labor in wandering through solitary places until at last he finds his sheep.

And when he finds it, he does not chastise it; he does not use rough blows to drive it back, but gently places it on his own shoulders and carries it back to the flock. He takes greater joy in this one sheep, lost and found, than in all the others.”

The hidden meaning of the parable? “It teaches us that we should not look on people as lost or beyond hope; we should not abandon them when they are in danger or be slow to come to their help.”
God does not look on people as lost or hopeless. Neither should we.

Praying with Christ

The great background theme playing through our Lenten days is the story of the Exodus. Like the children of Israel guided by Moses, we go forward on our desert journey guided by Jesus Christ.

His presence with us is greater than the presence of Moses among the Israelites, however. Like branches on the vine he gathers us to himself.

He is with us when we pray, weak and stumbling as our prayer may be. Remember his presence in prayer, St. Cyprian says in today’s reading.  “Let the Son who lives in our hearts, be also on our lips.”

He’s speaking of the Lord’s Prayer, given to us by Jesus. “To ask the Father in words his Son has given us, to let him hear the prayer of Christ ringing in his ears, is to make our prayer one of friendship, a family prayer.  Let the Father recognize the words of his Son.”

The Lord’s Prayer is not just a prayer to be said by rote; it’s a “pattern of prayer,” according to the saint. We learn how to pray by considering its words and making them our own. See: http://www.cptryon.org/prayer/teach.html

We recognize the place of Christ in liturgical prayer when we end them with the words, “Though Jesus Christ, your Son…”  It’s important to recognize the presence of Jesus as we pray privately and rely on him.

When the disciples were asleep in the Garden of Gethsemani, Jesus prayed a stone’s throw away and his prayer not only strengthened him but strengthened them as well.

The Stations of the Cross

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Ash Wednesday: Remembering and Turning

Religious language and customs lose their meaning when we don’t think about them. The ashes used today are from palm branches from last year’s Palm Sunday celebration. Once carried to shouts of glory, they’re reminders now of death. “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

The biblical word “repent” is translated “turn”–calling us to turn away from sin and turn to God. It’s a certain kind of turning we’re called to make. Not a casual turning from curiosity, quickly returning to what really matters–ourselves.
We’re called to turn to God, our creator and redeemer, keeping  our eyes fixed on the One who is the source of our life.  We turn to God in humble appreciation to receive his promise of forgiveness and love.
“Someone wise must not glory in his wisdom, someone strong must not glory in his strength, someone rich must not glory in his riches.”

We come to God with nothing, so we might be filled.

Turning from sin, from anger, from resentment, we come to a gentle, forgiving  God who blesses us with gifts this holy season, through the intercession of Jesus, his Son. We know we have turned if we are gentle and forgiving of one another.
We are blessed with the sign of his cross today.