Homily for the
3d Sunday of Lent
March
3, 1991
John
2: 13-25
Ex 20:
1-17
Holy
Cross, Fairfield, Conn.
Once more, since I don't have an "outside" Mass and preaching assignment this weekend, we offer a "golden oldie."
“Stop turning my Father’s house into a
marketplace” (John 2: 16).
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Christ Expelling the Money-changers
(Giotto, Scrovegni Chapel)
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Our churches always have three distinct
areas, whether they are humble parish churches like our own or grand cathedrals
like St. Patrick’s in New York. There
are outer areas like the foyers and the sacristy. There is the body of the church building
where the body of the Church – the congregation – gathers for worship. There is the innermost area, the sanctuary,
where the sacred mysteries are celebrated, the word of God is proclaimed, and
the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. (The
innermost sacred area does not have to be geographically connected. The altar of reservation need not be adjacent
to the altar of sacrifice; you’ve seen some churches where it is not.)
The Jewish temple was likewise divided
into three basic areas. These were the
outer courtyards and porticoes; the inner courtyards, where the people gathered
for prayer and sacrifice; and the innermost chambers, the sacred precincts of
priestly sacrifice, including the Holy of Holies.
The action in today’s gospel passage
occurs in the outer courtyards of the temple, the equivalent of our
foyers. This area was large and
open. The Jews, like most peoples of the
ancient world, practiced animal sacrifice.
The urban dwellers of Jerusalem were unlikely to have sheep, goats, or
other suitable animals to offer, and farmers coming up to the holy city on
pilgrimage could seldom bring along their own livestock. For the convenience of most worshippers,
therefore, the priests licensed dealers in oxen, sheep, doves, and so on to
sell live animals to pilgrims, which they would then present to the priests and
Levites in the inner courts for sacrifice.
This buying and selling led to a
further problem. Since Judea and Galilee
were part of the Roman Empire – indeed, Judea was under Roman occupation – the
only legal money for everyday life was Roman coinage, just as today the only
legal tender on the occupied West Bank is Israeli money. For the pious Jew, Roman money was
unclean. (Just this morning I heard on
the radio how the Kuwaitis are arresting anyone caught with Iraqi dinars.) For the Jew, not only did Roman money
represent his humiliation by a foreign army, but it represented the desecration
of the Holy Land by the infidel. And
worst of all, it bore the graven image of Tiberius Caesar, in direct violation
of the first commandment.
Again, there was a solution of
convenience at hand: the exchange. Change your Roman denarii for Jewish shekels,
good only within the temple area, and then go buy your sacrificial animal.
It seems that the situation that our
Lord confronted arose from praiseworthy motives: to keep Jewish worship pure and to make
worship convenient for the people.
Perhaps abuses had crept in and the whole business had become – well, a
business, no longer an adjunct of worship.
What may have begun well enough now earned the Lord’s wrath, a violent
wrath involving use of a whip, the overturning of tables, and stern
orders: “Get all this stuff out of here,
and stop making my Father’s house into a marketplace.”
We note that all this happened in the
foyers or outer courts of the temple.
Christ’s zeal for the sacredness of his Father’s house (cf. 2:17)
suggests that we might look at our own frame of mind and behavior in the house
of the Lord, particularly here in the inner area where we actually
worship. I’m afraid that – even with
good motives – sometimes we act here more like we’re in the supermarket than in
the sacred place where Christ’s holy people gather for prayer.
Once upon a time we were so aware of
the sacredness of everything about the church and our worship that the
sacristan wasn’t even allowed to touch the chalice or the paten; he had to
carry them with a cloth, if he carried them at all. Most of us remember kneeling for Communion,
which only a priest or a deacon could give out, and we were afraid it might be a
sin if even our teeth touched the host.
We had to fast from midnight before receiving Communion.
Some of those attitudes and practices
of “the good old days” were extreme.
Some were not. Have we gone to
the opposite extreme, a marketplace attitude, when we:
1. Dress sloppily for church, e.g., like
we’re going to the ski slopes or the beach;
2. Make a slight bend of the knee rather
than a reverent genuflection. (Those
physically unable to genuflect should show some other sign of reverence.)
3. Talk to our friends in the church
proper – sometimes right out loud, disturbing people who are trying to pray
besides, perhaps, insulting God;
4. Come late habitually, putting God into 2d
or 3d place behind whatever else it is we’re doing, and distracting everyone
else when we finally do arrive;
5. Won’t take a crying or squawking child
out of the church and into the foyer so that others may worship with minimum
distraction;
6. Come up for Communion with our hands at
our side or in our pockets or otherwise with a careless, everyday bearing;
7. Come for Communion without having
fasted for at least an hour from food or drink (except water and
medicine). Youngsters, note that chewing
gum breaks your Eucharistic fast.
8. Come for Communion without having examined
our consciences;
9. Leave the liturgy early.
We all know there are emergencies,
unforeseen events, and unavoidable circumstances that cause things that appear
to be irreverent. So we don’t judge
people who wear sneakers to church, e.g. – maybe they only have that one pair
of shoes; or people who come late – maybe they just got off the night shift at
the hospital; and so on.
But we all do need to observe the first
and third commandments – giving God due honor and keeping his day holy. We all need a share of Jesus’ zeal for his
Father’s house and all his Father’s affairs.
For Christ is the power and the wisdom of God (1 Cor 1:24).
