Status Quo or Mojo?

John 2:13-22
The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers at their business. And making a whip of cords, he drove them all, with the sheep and oxen, out of the temple; and he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, "Take these things away; you shall not make my Father's house a house of trade." His disciples remembered that it was written, "Zeal for thy house will consume me." The Jews then said to him, "What sign have you to show us for doing this?" Jesus answered them, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews then said, "It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?" But he spoke of the temple of his body. When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word which Jesus had spoken.

I grew up in Vandalia. You might know of this small town that extends east of the Dayton Airport. Vandalia was built at the height of the suburban craze in the 1950s and 1960s. Every house looked the same—a three bedroom, concrete slab, aluminum sided, one story ranch with an attached one car garage and a ¼ of an acre back yard. Every house in my block and in every other block for that matter looked almost exactly the same.

Down the street towards town and just off the I-75 exit was an unusual looking building. I remember it being a bit out of place for it looked like a castle next to the cracker box houses in my neighborhood. It was St. Christopher’s Catholic Church. Growing up we were taught that the Catholic Church was unholy, anti-Christian, and full of sin and iniquity. The xenophobic and prejudiced theologies that formed me as a child couldn’t fathom a church that allowed you to drink and gamble. In fact, when it came down to it—it was all about Bingo.

I remembering listening to our pastor preach on our gospel text growing up and thinking that it was also about bingo. Oh, it wasn't the game itself—it was the notion of playing bingo to raise money for the church. Looking back, I think it was more about Catholics than about bingo. Somehow along the way Protestants have picked up an anti-Catholic bias in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

Parents worried that their sons or daughters might marry Roman Catholics. And when John Kennedy ran for president, some worried that the pope would soon be running America. We were suspicious of Roman Catholics and Bingo was further proof that Catholics were up to no good because they played bingo in church and we didn't. We were always waiting for Jesus to come and overturn the bingo tables, sending the cards flying all over the church basement and spilling the little numbers out of the cage that spun them around.

"Stop making my Father's house a marketplace!" Jesus would shout as he tipped over the cash boxes and Bingo balls. We were quite sure that Jesus would not have been upset, however, with our bake sales, the carry in suppers or the yard sales to raise money for missions. But our text today is not about bingo, or bake sales, or pork roasts, or yard sales. Jesus' actions that day in the temple were a powerful sign of Jesus' anger and frustration with the way things were in his society. He couldn’t stand the status quo, and wasn’t afraid to show a little mojo.

And a closer look at this chapter brings us deep into the heart of who exactly Jesus was. Just prior to this event in the temple we read the story of Jesus' miracle at the wedding in Cana. Do you remember? They ran out of wine at the wedding and Jesus told the steward to fill six stone jars with water. Then he told the steward to taste the water, and--ahhhhh--the water had been turned into such excellent wine that the steward wondered why the host had saved the best for last. Now that wedding story is much deeper than just wishing Jesus would come to our parties and give us the best he has to offer—although we certainly would have liked him to eat pancakes and sausage a few weeks ago when we were raising money for our Back Pack program!

What’s really interesting about the wedding at Cana is not necessarily that Jesus turns water into wine, but that the water Jesus turns into wine was intended to be used for a specific purpose. The stone jars Jesus had filled with water were used for the rites of purification. By the time of Jesus, an elaborate system of purification had been developed. Some things were considered pure and others impure. Women were impure seven days after the birth of a son, and 14 days after the birth of a daughter. Dead bodies were impure. People with blemishes such as leprosy were impure. Certain foods were impure and almost anything sexual was impure. The list had gotten very, very long.

In his book "Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time," Marcus Borg sees the ministry of Jesus as challenging this extensive purity system. The effect of the purity system was to create a world with sharp social boundaries; between pure and impure, righteous and sinner, whole and not whole, male and female, rich and poor, Jew and Gentile. Changing water into wine was not so much about getting people drunk so they could have a great time, but it was a way that Jesus could break down the barriers imposed by these purity laws. Jesus used water reserved to purify women and children and outcasts and diseased people, for the purpose of making the best available for everyone. It was a different way of seeing the world and God's care and compassion for it.

Following that story we have this event that takes place in the temple. The temple represented the very core of this purity system. The animals being sold there were for sacrificial purposes. These animals were required for sacrifice, and there were economic implications because poor people couldn't afford to buy the best animals. Moneychangers were an essential part of the system. It was idolatrous to use Roman coins stamped with the emperor's image to buy your sacrifice; so the moneychangers weren't simply making change for a twenty; they were giving pure tokens in exchange for impure money, often at a profit.

By attacking these money changers and overturning their profit making businesses at the expense of the poor and disenfranchised, Jesus challenged the purity system that these temple practices represented. Jesus anger was out of disgust and frustration for the way the rich and elite exhibited their power over the vulnerable and those lacking influence and social status. Jesus' life and ministry challenged the rules that named things and people pure or impure. Jesus saw an alternative society that was shaped not by the politics of purity, but by the politics of compassion.

Jesus was a political activist. He understood God’s realm being grounded in compassion and love. And all of his teachings and relationship sought to establish that. He had compassion for the Samaritan woman at the well. She was considered impure by her bloodline and behavior. He had compassion for the woman accused of adultery threatened with stoning. He had compassion for the sheep who were not yet part of God's fold. So we must ask ourselves, if we want to be like Jesus then who are those people in our communities who have been shut out of the church because of some archaic purity code? Who are the folks who don’t feel welcomed into our church because they don’t have fancy clothes to wear, or can’t afford to put money in our offering plates, belong to unconventional families or don’t fit the profile of a successful Christian?

Many have said that you can’t build a church on charity. We can’t grow unless we attract people of means. We shouldn’t spend so much time, energy and resources on children and families that can’t give back. That unless we have economically stable and wealthy people in our congregation we won’t be able to sustain our ministries. But I have to ask myself when I hear these accusations, what is more corrupt? Packaging the gospel so that people feel good about themselves—or telling people the good news that God loves them regardless of who they are, or how much they make, or what their relationship status is. Do we truly welcome everyone into the family of God?

There are many corrupt institutions in our society, and the church is often one of them. Belonging to a church used to be some kind of status symbol.  But times have changed. Through outreach, mission and service the church can stay true to the message of the gospel, and reach out to its community neighbors. And if we can keep ourselves from judging our success based on numbers, or economic status, or the amount of offering taken in weekly—but focus on reaching out to as many of these neighbors that we can—as a community, then corruption will never manipulate our ministry. Our journey to meet our neighbors right where they are will keep our hearts pure and our focus clear.

For no matter if our neighbors are rich or poor, young or old, woman or man, gay or straight, majority or minority; God’s grace and love is available to each and every one of our neighbors who haven’t found it yet. For no matter who they are or where they are on their journey—God welcomes them. And their journey to wholeness begins with us. And that is something they shouldn’t have to pay one cent for. For I ALSO once was lost, but now I AM found; was blind, but NOW I see. Amen and Hallelujah!

(Statistics from www.city-data.com. Sermon excerpts from Barbara K. Lundblad’s sermon, "Far More Than Bingo" from March 23, 2003 http://www.day1.net/index.php5?view=transcripts&tid=78)