The Plymouth Pulpit
March 16, 2008
Rev. Dr. Donald Olsen
“Just Worship”
Hosanna, Hosanna in the Highest!
Save us! Save us in the Highest Way!
Everybody loves a parade! Don’t we? Ah the spectacle of it all, the adorned vehicles laden with flowers, beautiful women – often throwing candy, the floats displaying all manner of creativity, the marching bands and precision drill teams marching, always marching forward under the huge helium filled balloons of various cartoon characters.
The thought of cartoon characters reminds me of my own participation in parades. Yes, I’ve been in a few myself. I hesitate to say this in the presence of Howard, but I was the President of my high school choir…and we always had a float in the homecoming parade. That year, my senior year, every float had to have something to do with a cartoon character. After much debate we finally settled on Captain Crunch—yes the breakfast cereal—don’t ask me how or why, it was a group decision.
So upon a hay wagon we built a replica of a sailing vessel with a stuffed replica of the Captain himself on deck. The ship rested upon a small ocean of blue tissue paper stuffed through chicken wire. Under the bow of the vessel floated a replica of our opponent’s mascot, the Downers Grove Bulldogs. Our ship rocked back and forth “crunching” our opponent under its bow while we four officers of the Choir road in a convertible, having mastered the parade wave: elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist. Ah the spectacle of it all! Everybody loves a parade!
And what would a parade be without its politicians! Handing out pamphlets, glad handing as many people as they can, offer candy, a smile and a hardy “howdy,” they make their presence known and their need for our vote obvious. What would a parade be without politicians?
Politics: we don’t speak about it often in the church and I try to avoid it like the plague. Last week I was in the home of one of our members for dinner. A delicious meal had been prepared, the table setting and home was beautiful and a meaningful prayer offered by my host. Before I got my first bit of food in my mouth one of my host said, “So are you a Republican or a Democrat?” “Well” I said, “I try to avoid talking about politics if I can.” My other host said, “Oh, it doesn’t matter, our votes always cancel each other’s out!” After some brief conversation about our two major political parties I was ready to eat. My host then asked, “So, what do think of the Iraq war?”
For the most part I do try to avoid politics for fear of offending someone I might otherwise minister too. That is my primary task, to be a minister of the Gospel. And at times the Gospel is offensive enough to turn people away, so, especially in our current political climate, I hesitate to add another element that may turn someone away from my primary task.
On the other hand, every parade involves politics. Even my high school homecoming parade dealt with politics because it was a reflection of the school as a whole. It reflected the power and politics of our choir: There was Captain Crunch, “crunching” our opponent’s mascot and there in a convertible rode the President, Vice-President, Secretary and Treasurer: the center of leadership for that organization.
At its root, the word “politic” has to do with the many becoming one; it has to do with the makeup of the many that allows them to function together as a nation, a state, a city, an origination or even a congregation. So in the broadest sense of the word we are almost always dealing with or doing something about politics. Our text for today is especially about politics. It is about the makeup of the temple and those who administer it. Indeed, the events of Holy Week are about the politics of the temple in the first century.
Our involvement with the scripture has always raised the question, “What does then have to do with now?” And because of who we are and the context of our time, we are especially concerned with the question, “What does then have to do with this now, our now?” How does this simple parade of peasants some two thousand years about speak to us today? I need to give you some historical background to illuminate the text and, by the grace of God, open some new insights for you.
Our text and other Gospel recounts of these events are not “straightforward history,” but a combination of history remembered and history interpreted. It is the story of Jesus re-told for the time in which Matthew’s community lived, some seventy to eighty years after the events. So we need to approach it as part history and part story.
Two precessions entered Jerusalem in preparation for the celebration of Passover. One was a peasant procession and the other an imperial procession. From the east, Jesus rode into the city on a donkey as a crowd gathered and cheered along with his followers. From the West, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea led a column of imperial cavalry and foot soldiers. One procession proclaimed the Kingdom of God. The other proclaimed the power of the empire. These two processions embody the conflict, nearly hidden from us, which led to Jesus’ crucifixion.
Pilate’s procession symbolizes Roman power and Roman imperial theology. Mostly unknown to us today, it was a matter of fact for Israel in the first century. It was standard practice for the powers of Rome to be present in Jerusalem during major Jewish festivals—not out of respect or reverence, but to control the crowds in case of riots or violence. The festival of Purim, a celebration of Israel’s deliverance from the Persian Empire, often overlapped with Passover. Celebrating release from one oppressor while being occupied by another, offers opportunity for zealots in the crowd. So a military presence to kept the religious zealots at bay.
More than their military presence, Rome’s imperial theology offended Jews, especially as it was forcibly placed alongside the Jewish faith as a rival theology. Augustus ruled the empire about the time of Jesus birth. Rome’s imperial theology claimed that the god Apollo conceived Augustus with his earthy mother Atia. Inscriptions honoring Augustus refer to him as “son of God,” “lord” and “savior,” one who brought “peace on earth.” Upon his death, according to Rome’s imperial theology, Augustus was seen ascending into heaven to take his permanent place among the gods. His successors also calmed divinity, including Tiberius, emperor at the time of Jesus’ public ministry.
To honor these “god-human” rulers, Roman currency bore the graven image of Creaser, thus it was not allowed in the temple. Money changers in outer court of the temple would exchange Roman coinage for Temple coins which bore no image and would not desecrate the temple. The presence of money-changers in the outer courts was a necessary and legal. It enabled those who had made a pilgrimage to the temple to offer unblemished sacrifice which law and custom required.
Under the Persian Empire and its Hellenistic successors, the temple in Jerusalem was the center of government in Judea. The high priest and the temple authorities were in effect the rulers of the Jewish people, though of course they owed allegiance and tribute to their imperial overlords. This practice was re-instated under Roman occupation. The collaborators at the temple included some families of means, some who where well known as local leaders of influence and, of course, the high priests of the temple. Six days of the week these leaders of Israel worked in concert with the occupying oppressor, profiting from their dealings and taxation of the people—then paying tribute to their occupiers. On the Sabbath the temple leadership took refuge in the sanctuary of the temple, using the temple’s very presence to justify their activity during the week. These leaders of faith and temple used one set of rules to function in their daily lives and another for their worship.
In verse 10 of today’s text we read; “When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?" The word “turmoil” is an oddity here. It’s transliteration in Greek usually refers to an act of nature, especially that of an earthquake or hurricane: the ground shook. As this little peasant parade entered the city and crowds cheered on a humble king riding not a stallion but an ass, the ground shook! That which the city was built upon trembled.
In John’s gospel we read of the high priests concern: “If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation." But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, "You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed." (John 11:48-50) Jesus’ presence shook the foundation of their lives and they could not let it be so.
As Jesus entered the temple he looked around and began to chase the money changers out of the courtyard, overturning their tables and the seats of those who sold animals for sacrifice. As he did so Jesus cried out in his angst, "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer'; but you are making it a den of robbers." (Matthew 21:13)
Here is the key phrase: “a den of robbers.” To understand this text, to gain insight to the events of the coming week we must understand this phrase. A den is a place of rest and relaxation, is it a hideaway, a sanctuary where one seeks refreshment. A den of robbers is not a place of business where they do their thievery; it is where they relax with their bounty and try to justify their actions.
When Jesus disrupted the legal and helpful actions of money changers and animal dealers in the outer court of the temple he was not calling them robbers and thieves. Jesus knew that the High Priests at ease inside the temple itself relied on taxes generated by this legal and necessary trade to build their wealth and pay off the overlords for the privilege of being called rulers.
Jesus’ cry of anguish in the temple’s courtyard is a quote from Jeremiah where God is speaking, “Here you are, trusting in deceptive words to no avail. Will you steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, make offerings to Baal, and go after other gods that you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, "We are safe!"-- only to go on doing all these abominations? Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your sight? You know, I too am watching, says the Lord.” (Jeremiah 8-11)
By disrupting the commerce of the temple’s outer courts, Jesus was shaking the financial foundation of those residing in the inner temple. The whole city shook as Jesus symbolically destroyed the temple, demanding justice instead of collaborative thievery as a corrective to the wayward practices of the temple’s leadership.
The God of Israel, the God whom Jesus called Father, the God we worship here today is a God of justice who calls us to lead our public lives and private lives in the same manner. The God we worship today is also a gracious God who understands that as we set so high a mark as to be more like Christ, we sometimes miss that mark, and God is faithful to forgive. But the call of God to the people of Israel and the call of the gospel to us today is to live all of life in the integrity of justice. You see we don’t gather here to just worship; we gather here in just worship, which is pleasing in the sight of God and the vision Christ holds up for us.
The last time I filled this pulpit I ended that service with a benediction which, unbeknownst to me at the time, was a prelude for today. And so I end this sermon with it:
“Vision without action is only a dream. Action without vision is simply passing the time. Action with Christ as our Vision is making a positive difference.” Go forth and create a better world through your vision of Christ. Do this, and you will also create a better church.
Amen.