The Third Sunday of Lent, Year B

When God is Angry

Readings: Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19:7-14; 1 Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-22

I must admit to being uneasy about the anger of Jesus in today’s Gospel. It is something with which I have struggled throughout this week. Generally what I struggle with is what I need to preach about. Why do I struggle with it? I guess it starts with my own issues around anger. Now I do not get angry very often, but when I do I really blow my top. And the silly thing about it is that I don’t usually get angry about important things. I usually get angry at some perceived slight. I fuss and fume about it. I toss and turn all night thinking about it, wondering what I should have said differently, how I should have handled it. And the person who slighted me often doesn’t even know I am angry.

But surely that is not what bothers me about Jesus’ anger. Imagine the scene for a moment! With the approach of Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem to the temple. The outer court of the temple was a huge area, big enough to house a few football stadiums. In this outer court – and understand this, we are not talking about the sanctuary – were crowds of people, all vying to change their money into the currency acceptable in the temple. Once changed, they went off to purchase birds or animals for sacrifice. The area was more than likely closely guarded by soldiers.

It was business as usual as Jesus entered the temple. What a commotion ensued when he took action! He made a whip of cords and used it to drive out the animals. He poured out the coins of the moneychangers, overturning tables in the process. The scene was one of total chaos.

Doesn’t it make you wonder, “What was he thinking!” The very anger of Jesus in doing what he did! What was his objection?
But once again, that is not really what troubles me. Perhaps it is about the image I have of Jesus. When it comes down to it, what bothers me is that he is acting on a very human emotion, and I think that somehow Jesus should be above all of that. Do we ever really get away from our Sunday School “Gentle Jesus meek and mild” image? We are all inclined to create Jesus in our own image, or at least in the image of what we would like Jesus to be. We may see Jesus as a mild-mannered moralizer guaranteed not to offend. We may see him as a gentle soul with long blond hair and soul searching blue eyes. And yet, if we believe that he is fully human as well as fully divine, why are we surprised at this expression of anger? Perhaps it is because it all seems so foolish.

But then as Paul points out to the people of Corinth, “The message of the cross is foolishness.” The very thought of the cross as a symbol of Christian faith confronted the values of Paul’s worldview. The claim of the Christian church was unthinkable to the Jews. They were waiting for the Messiah. They certainly did not recognize it embodied in the life of Christ. They expected a figure of power, one who would free them from the tyranny of Rome. They were looking for a king riding on a horse, not a Saviour hanging on a cross.

The Greeks too had expectations about God. They loved oratory and rhetoric. For them, God was a concept, not someone with whom you had a personal relationship. They approached God through the rational, through the philosophical. So Christ, and particularly the cross made no sense to them.

Even for us, as far removed as we are from the horror of crucifixion, the cross is foolishness. Power and authority are the way of our world. No matter how you dress it up, coat it in gold, make it a work of art, turn it into jewellery, it is foolishness… but it is God’s foolishness.

And Jesus’ action in the temple is a fine example of God’s foolishness. So we need to ask ourselves about this challenge of the status quo. What exactly is Jesus protesting?

It seems likely that his action expressed disapproval of what the temple had become. Jesus knew the law. He lived the commandments. As a Jew he understood that the commandments were about not doing violence to loyalties. He knew they were about building good relationships with other people and with God. They were about ending injustice in society. Where we accept the commandments as the basis of Western moral conduct, for the Hebrew people and for Jesus it was about creating relationships that did not exploit. God had freed them from slavery in Egypt. God gave them the freedom to figure out how the rules applied to their daily lives. God provided the promise of how they could turn around their previous life and live as God’s chosen people. Seeing exploitation taking place within the religious institution must have offended Jesus at his roots. Is he hoping to bring about a single-handed reformation of the temple? Whatever the reason, his was a deliberate and passionate act of protest that was bound to lead to trouble.

It was not a wise thing to do. Why did he not write a letter to the authorities, or talk quietly to a few of the people in private. The fact is, Jesus was thinking from God’s point of view. He was making God’s point as clearly as he could. Making that point, foolish though it may seem, was worth getting into trouble.

What foolishness it is to buy into the nonsense that Jesus, the son of a carpenter turned preacher could do any good. Yet that is what we believe as Christians.

What foolishness it is to believe that a God of love reigns over this fractured, violence-ridden world of ours. Yet it is at the heart of what we believe.

What foolishness it is to think that God cares about starving millions, the deprived, the poor, the downtrodden, the victims of society. Yet that is what we proclaim as Christians.

What foolishness it is to insist that we have a personal relationship with God, that God is in our midst caring for us, that God is personally concerned about each of us. Yet that is what keeps us going through all the difficult patches of life.

And if we really do believe in the saving act of Christ, then the real foolishness is that we are not acting on it, that we are not working to transform ourselves and our world. The suffering Jesus dying on the cross turns the tables on power. The cross becomes a symbol of love broken and poured out for all. We become bread for a hungry world.

And yet there is something else that keeps niggling at me this week. It is what happened after Jesus’ violent act. Things got even stranger. When asked to justify himself he refused. Instead he gave an explanation. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” We look back on it from our Christian perspective and interpret it as a prediction of his death and resurrection. But it must have caused some scratching of heads and wondering if Jesus was in his right mind.

The cleansing of the temple is a warning against a false sense of security, against seeing Jesus as we would see him, against that ‘comfortable pew’ sense that can lull us into a sense of complacency. Jesus did not come to make our lives comfortable. Jesus did not come to give us warm fuzzy feelings about the faith, to offer us a safe and cozy religion. Jesus came to challenge our prejudices and illusions. He came to offer us radical transformation.

So yes! There is much we could learn from Jesus and his table turning tactics, for there are many injustices at work in our society. There is much we could learn about living passionately. Are we passionate enough to challenge the systems of the Church and the world? Are we passionate enough to become advocates for the poor and for those in need? Are we passionate enough to speak out wherever there is injustice? Are we passionate enough to challenge a world where war is condoned because it is economically practical? Are we passionate enough to stand up to those who would continue to destroy God’s beautiful creation by denying the harm that we are inflicting on our ecology. Lent is surely an appropriate time to take a good look at ourselves, at our motives.

It should happen for each of us on a personal level. Lent is a time, first of all to test our own lives. What barriers and stumbling blocks to a close relationship with God have we allowed to enter our lives? How are we living out our covenant with God?

It should happen on a corporate level. What marketplaces do we make of the church of God? What abuses are made in God’s name?

And when we have examined our motives, then we need to do something to change them, to turn the tables on them. I believe passionately that armed with our Christian faith we can change the world. That may be foolishness, but if it is then I will be foolish for God. Our prayers make a difference. They can bring about healing to this fractured world. They can change our hardened hearts and help us to live as brothers and sisters.

The cross is foolishness. But it is God’s foolishness. During this Lenten season let us embrace its foolishness. Let us take up the cross and follow Jesus. Let our faith make a real difference in our lives. Amen.

The Third Sunday of Lent, Year B

God’s Foolishness

Readings: Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19:7-14; 1 Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-22

“The message of the cross is foolishness,” says Paul. The very thought of the cross as a symbol of Christian faith confronted the values of Paul’s worldview. The claim of the Christian church was unthinkable to the Jews. They were waiting for the Messiah. They certainly did not recognize it embodied in the life of Christ. They expected a figure of power, one who would free them from the tyranny of Rome. They were looking for a king riding on a horse, not Christ hanging on a cross.

The Greeks too had expectations about God. They loved oratory and rhetoric. For them, God was a concept, not someone with whom you had a personal relationship. They approached God through the rational, through the philosophical. So Christ, and particularly the cross made no sense to them.

Even for us, as far removed as we are from the horror of crucifixion, the cross is foolishness. Power and authority are the way of our world. No matter how you dress it up, coat it in gold, make it a work of art, turn it into jewellery, it is foolishness … but it is God’s foolishness.

Jesus’ action in the temple is a fine example of God’s foolishness. Imagine the scene! With the approach of Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem to the temple. The outer court of the temple was a huge area, big enough to house a few football stadiums. In this outer court were crowds of people, all vying to change their money into the currency acceptable in the temple. Once changed, they went off to purchase birds or animals for sacrifice. The area was usually closely guarded by soldiers.

It was business as usual as Jesus entered the temple. What a commotion ensued when he took action! He made a whip of cords and used it to drive out the animals. He poured out the coins of the moneychangers, overturning tables in the process. The scene was one of total chaos. What was he thinking! The very anger of Jesus in doing what he did! What was his objection? In this challenge of the status quo, is he protesting a system that places intermediaries between the people and God?

It seems likely that his action expressed disapproval of what the temple had become. Jesus knew the law. He lived the commandments. As a Jew he understood that the commandments were about not doing violence to loyalties. He knew they were about building good relationships with other people and with God. They were about ending injustice in society. Where we accept the commandments as the basis of Western moral conduct, for the Hebrew people and for Jesus it was about creating relationships that did not exploit. God had freed them from slavery in Egypt. God gave them the freedom to figure out how the rules applied to their daily lives. God provided the promise of how they could turn around their previous lives and live as God’s chosen people. Seeing exploitation, taking place within the religious institution must have offended Jesus at his roots. Is he hoping to bring about a single-handed reformation of the temple? Whatever the reason, his was a deliberate and passionate act of protest that was bound to lead to trouble.

It was not a wise thing to do. Why did he not write a letter to the authorities, or talk quietly to a few of the people in private? The fact is, Jesus was thinking from God’s point of view. He was making God’s point as clearly as he could. Making that point, foolish though it may seem, was worth getting into trouble.

What foolishness it is to buy into the nonsense that Jesus, the son of a carpenter turned preacher could do any good. Yet that is what we believe as Christians.

What foolishness it is to believe that a God of love reigns over this fractured, violence-ridden world of ours. Yet it is at the heart of what we profess as Christians.

What foolishness it is to think that God cares about starving millions, the deprived, the poor, the downtrodden, the victims of society. Yet that is what we proclaim as Christians.

What foolishness it is to insist that we have a personal relationship with God, that God is in our midst caring for us, that God is personally concerned about each of us. Yet that is what keeps us going through all the difficult patches of life.

And if we really do believe in the saving act of Christ, then the real foolishness is that we are not acting on it, that we are not working to transform our world. The suffering Jesus dying on the cross turns the tables on power. The cross becomes a symbol of love broken and poured out for all. We become bread for a hungry world.

There is much we could learn from Jesus and his table turning tactics, for there are many injustices at work in our society. There is much we could learn about living passionately. Are we passionate enough to challenge the systems of the Church and the world? Are we passionate enough to become advocates for the poor and for those in need? Are we passionate enough to speak out wherever there is injustice? Are we passionate enough to challenge a world where war is condoned because it is economically practical? Lent is surely an appropriate time to take a good look at ourselves, at our motives.

It should happen for each of us on a personal level. Lent is a time, first of all to test our own lives. Who do we refuse to forgive? What barriers and stumbling blocks to a close relationship with God have we allowed to enter our lives? How are we living out our covenant with God?

It should happen in our parish. Who do we turn away through our perceived lack of resources? Who do we keep out because we see them as too needy, or too different?

It should happen as Church. What marketplaces do we make of the church of God? What abuses happen in God’s name?

And when we have examined our motives, then we need to do something to change them, to turn the tables on them. I believe passionately that armed with our Christian faith we can change the world. Our prayers make a difference. They can bring about healing to this fractured world. They can change our hardened hearts and help us to live as brothers and sisters.

What are the issues we live with daily here in Oshawa for which you have a passion? Is it related to mental illness? It is such an issue in every community. How do we ensure that the voiceless are heard? How do we ensure that the are kept safe?

Or maybe your passion is for those who live in poverty. That too is present in the city of Oshawa. Food Bank usage continues to increase despite the fact that it was, from its inception, to be a bandaid solution. The Community Development Council of Durham released a study on poverty in the region and found as much as fifteen percent of Durham residents live in poverty. Our poor are working poor, people working multiple part time jobs at minimum wage to support their families. Our government gives families money for their children and then takes it back in the form of claw backs. Others are the elderly, living on fixed incomes. How can we become advocates for the poor? Isn’t that what the gospel calls us to be?

Is your passion homelessness? Once again here it is more hidden. But lack of affordable housing is more and more an issue in our cities. The average wait in Oshawa is almost four years. Sixty-eight percent more units are needed to solve the problems that exist. That kind of statistic means slum landlords and substandard housing.

Perhaps your passion is the environment. The Community Garden is, of course, a wonderful response to the issue. We are all recycling and doing our part, but what else needs to happen? Is it the greening of our neighbourhood and church? Is it through Advocacy for our First Nations people in their quest for justice?

The cross is foolishness. But it is God’s foolishness, and the foolishness of God is wiser than we are. During this Lenten season let us embrace its foolishness. Let us take up the cross and follow Jesus. Let our faith make a real difference in our lives and in the lives of those we touch. Amen.

The Third Sunday of Lent, Year A

The Well is Deep

Readings: Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5:1-11; John 4:5-42

My father used to take so called ‘busman’s holidays’ with our family. It took us on many wonderful adventures, but often there were problems as well. One summer we had entirely too much water as it rained day in and day out. One summer we had too little water. Our family of seven was staying in a rectory on Manitoulin Island that had a cistern big enough to supply two. We longed for a much deeper well. In fact, there were many complaints to my father about the lack of water, particularly by my teen aged sister.

Water was definitely a practical concern for the Israelites as they travelled through they made their journey through the wilderness. They thirsted, and, true to form, they took it out on their leader. “Give us water to drink,” they complained. “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” At a time of thirst, of longing, of insecurity and loss they blamed Moses. And God took pity on poor Moses! “Go to the rock at Horeb,” God told him. “Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that people may drink.” God graced them with water there in the wilderness, for God’s well is always deep. The water from the rock was a sign that God understood the people's thirst. But you can be certain that God's grace was more than a physical meeting of their needs, for the people of Israel thirsted spiritually as well. They needed to experience God's grace washing and refreshing them in the midst of all the loss and confusion that they were feeling. They needed to know that God was with them, leading them through that desert time, abundantly gracing their lives.

Water was a daily concern for people at the time of Jesus. Jesus himself experienced thirst as he travelled the dusty roads of Israel. One hot day as they approached a village, the disciples went off to look for food while Jesus headed for the well to quench his thirst. His throat was dry and his tongue hard. He looked into the depths of the well. There was lots of water there. But without a bucket how was he to get any. He had no choice but to wait until someone came along.

It was a Samaritan woman, an outcast even in her own society, who finally arrived at the well. The well was a deep one. It had an abundant supply of clear, sparkling water. Jesus watched as she lowered her bucket and brought it filled to overflowing.

He asked her for a drink. She was surprised that he would make the request of her. A Jewish man speaking to a Samaritan woman! Any self-respecting Jew would have endured his thirst. Even as a man, it was his duty not to descend to the level of asking a woman for help. But had he not done so, the conversation that followed could never have taken place.

That is what is behind her question. “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” She knows her place. She feels threatened by his request, and she gives voice to it. But she passes the bucket to him just the same. He sinks his head in and takes a long drink.

He goes on to tell her about a well so deep that it will never dry up. He speaks about living water. As he speaks she begins to see where her life has gone wrong. Somehow Jesus makes her conscious of the futility in her heart and life. He offers her fulfillment. The Samaritan woman left home for the purpose of drawing water. She found water of a very different sort. She met Jesus at the well and became a new person.

Her story does not stop there. She goes back to the village, filled with joy and expectation, filled with good news about this person that she has met and what it has meant in her life. “This couldn’t be the Messiah, could it?” she says to them and invites them to find out more about Jesus. They believe in him because they see such a transformation in this woman’s life. Their faith journey begins. They invite Jesus to stay with them for a time. They too drink from that deep well.

As individuals we all go through times of uncertainty when we feel that the well has run dry. Many have suffered loss of one kind or another whether it be through sickness, or the death of a loved one. In these uncertain economic times many have suffered through insecurity in their work, downsizing and even job loss. There are all the disappointments and difficulties of life. At such times it becomes difficult to hold onto our faith.

As a congregation too, the well has often seemed dry. We have certainly gone through many times of uncertainty. In fact it sometimes seems that uncertainty is the normal way of life in this parish. At such times it becomes difficult to trust the leadership, either clerical or lay. It is difficult to trust that the Diocese has our best interests at heart. We know as a community that people come to church looking for spiritual answers to their thirst. And we know too that this parish has much to offer to people who come. God’s abundant grace is so apparent in the ongoing life of this wonderful, dynamic parish. How do we truly trust God and open ourselves to the good things that are happening in this place? How do we begin to trust that the well is deep and the water is abundant and pure. For the well is deep. Our parish of St. Francis continues to be a life giving source of grace for many people. We offer good liturgy, faithful ministry, diversity, a strong life of prayer, and a wonderful sense of community. We reach out into the community with ever increasing generosity of spirit.

Are we thirsty enough to meet Jesus at the well? Do we with David say, "My soul thirsts for the living God?" Our journey through this wilderness time of Lent is an opportunity to acknowledge our thirst for God. Out of that kind of thirsting, out of the kind of acknowledgement that the Samaritan woman made, out of the acceptance of our need for God, out of our reliance on God's mercy, comes that gift of grace that is able to quench our spiritual thirst.

Grace affects all of our relationships beginning with our relationship with God. But most important, it manifests itself in action in our lives. Our lives become focused on others. We learn to share the grace by which we have been graced. Not by looking for Brownie points. First of all, God doesn't give them. But even more important, we don't need them. Grace is free. We share grace by offering Christian service, the kind of service that is always offered by practicing Christians. It is the kind of service that the world needs to see us doing, because it offers Christ to the world. It is seeing God's grace manifested in us that will change the world. People will begin to say for real, "See these Christians – how they love one another!"

Marvellous things happen when we begin to awaken to the wonderful things that God has in store for us. Let us put our trust in God's promises. God has the answer for our spiritual needs. God has the answer for our physical needs too. Let us pray that God will give us the grace and the vision to be everything that God is calling us to be.

The Third Sunday of Lent, Year B

Passionate Living

Readings: Exodus 20:1-17; 1 Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-22

We are part of a broken world. How evident that is as we read in the newspaper about war and conflict. Just to name a few of the terrible situations faced by people in our world, there is Darfur which has seen some 350,000 people killed and another 1.8 million displaced. There is the Civil War in Sri Lanka. There is the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan. There is the situation in Gaza. Peace and diplomacy so often fail to resolve conflict. What is the Christian way to view what is happening? How can God’s word speak to us in the midst of turmoil?

The Ten Commandments, God's covenant with Israel, speak to us at every level of human experience. They speak to us as individuals, as community, and as nation. They are moral guides to our growth as people who live in communion with one another and all of creation. They cover all aspects of life. They are summarized for the Christian in Jesus’ call to us to love God, and to love neighbour.

If we take the Ten Commandments seriously – and I certainly trust we do – we must surely be asking ourselves some difficult questions about the way we live our lives. What gods do we put before God? Where do we put all of our energies? In placing our energies, do we leave time for God? Are there any discrepancies between what we profess as Christians and how we act towards others? How do we keep Sunday holy when society demands that we work? What injustices do we see going on around us? Are we willing to speak out against them? Are we willing to do something about them? In this consumer society of ours, which causes us to covet from cradle to grave, do we stand up to the desires of the world and put God and neighbour before our own needs? The command to love God and love neighbour makes us responsible for the world in which we live. We are responsible to help those who live in poverty. It is our responsibility to care for the sick, to live in peace, to live out our ministry as servants in a broken world.

This is a time for passionate living. The symbol for this third Sunday in our Lenten series is fire. It gives light and heat. It can create atmosphere in a room. It purifies and refines. It can also destroy. The bush fires this year in Australia which destroyed animal habitat, people’s homes and even their lives are a testimony to that. Fire describes anger and revenge. It also describes love and devotion. For us during this Lenten season, fire is a symbol of the burning away of the old self. The mystery of fire brought the Hebrews to associate God’s presence with fire. Moses first encounter with God was through a burning bush. The people of Israel were led through the wilderness by a “pillar of fire”. As Christians it symbolizes the Spirit of God among us. At Pentecost, the Spirit descended as tongues of fire on the people of God. Fire symbolizes the Spirit of God among us. It is a sign of conversion, a symbol of the burning away of the old self. Conversion experiences test us. Something is burned off; what remains is stronger, purer. It allows us to live passionately. The Spirit is a fire that purifies, creates, refines, destroys and transforms if we let it. It allows us to live passionately.

And so in the Gospel today we see a Jesus who lives passionately. And yes, I admit it. I feel uncomfortable about his anger. That is because I can’t quite understand it. What was his objection? What was he thinking? It was business as usual, a normal day in a busy synagogue at a busy time of the year. Animals and birds were supplied for sacrifice. Foreign currencies had to be exchanged for the temple currency. The very anger of Jesus in doing what he did! It was a deliberate and passionate act of protest. Was he protesting against the power and exploitation of the religious order of the day? That is certainly what it seems to me to be. He seems to be challenging the status quo. And it is bound to get him into trouble.

Jesus’ anger is a stumbling block to me in the same way that the cross was a stumbling block for the Jew. It seems foolish. However, what foolishness it is to buy into the nonsense that Jesus the son of a carpenter turned preacher could do any good! Yet that is exactly what I believe as a Christian. What foolishness it is to believe that a God of love reigns over this fractured violence-ridden world of ours; but I cannot help but see the hand of God in this world. What foolishness to believe that God can bring peace where there is enmity! Yet I believe it all passionately. I believe passionately that God can bring about peace. I believe passionately that my fervent prayers along with yours can bring wholeness to our fractured world. I believe that God can change our hardened hearts and help us to live as brothers and sisters.

Fortunately throughout history there have been people passionate enough about the Christian faith to challenge the systems of the Church and the world. It has been said that if Jesus taught us anything it was how to die, not how to kill! Martin Luther King Jr. put it in the following way. "To our most bitter opponents we say: 'we shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We shall appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.'"

Oscar Romero, the Bishop of El Salvador became bishop because it was thought that he would not challenge the status quo. He had a conversion experience and because of it became a passionate advocate for the poor and underprivileged people of his country. He challenged both the state and his own church. In a sermon preached shortly before being gunned down in his church he said, "They may kill me, but I shall rise up in the people of San Salvador."

So how do we let the Spirit move us? Are we passionate enough to challenge the systems that exist in the Church? Are we passionate enough to change the injustices in the world? Do we believe that it matters? Do we believe that we can make a difference? Are we willing to work for justice for those who live in poverty? For the homeless and under housed? For those with mental illnesses?

Because it begins with changing ourselves and we know how difficult that is! We cannot hope to change the Church or the world if we are not willing to make changes within ourselves. We must allow the Spirit of God to work in our lives. That means not only being passionate, but being forgiving. It means accepting God’s forgiveness for the wrongs we have done and allowing ourselves to offer it to others.

The Gospel of repentance and conversion is proclaimed in the Eucharist and in the Sacrament of reconciliation. Sunday by Sunday we are called to renewed faith in God. We are called to be a reconciled community of faith. As we pass the peace after the absolution we accept God’s forgiveness. We reach out our hands to others in peace and in love. It is a response that deepens our faith. It is a renewing of our baptismal covenant. It is a new beginning. Let us passionately embrace God’s forgiveness and allow it to change our hearts. Let us carry it with us into the world. Amen.