Third Sunday of Easter, cycle B

John 24:35 - 48

I ran across an article recently which asked the question, “If you could be in heaven right now for an hour and visit with just one person, who would that be?”  It’s a good question.  I’m sure some people would name a favorite saint, and most would  think about a parent or a loved one.  But to pick out just one?  What would be our standards?  How could we choose?”

I gave myself that test.  All of my relatives of my parent’s generation are there, hopefully.  But I don’t feel a strong need to talk with Mom or Dad or Uncle Paul; I assume that if I get to heaven for real I’ll spend eternity talking or not talking with them, whatever makes us happy.  I have a couple of cousins who have passed on.  Same deal.  As far as Saints are concerned, Ihave my favorites, but there again, what is the urgency?  And then after a great deal of thought, I tentatively picked out one person -- my grandmother on my dad’s side.  She and I were very close.  She was the only daughter of a protestant Scottish coal miner and his fresh from Ireland catholic wife -- the product of a mixed marriage when that was almost unthinkable.  Her four brothers went into the mines as well and like their dad, met early deaths from lung disease.  Grandma put herself through nursing school at a time when that was only slightly more respectable than working in a dance hall.  She married a real honest to goodness cowboy who eventually gave up alcohol for her -- only to take it up again the afternoon of her funeral.  And she was an avid reader and seemed to have reasonable answers for every question I could ask when I was growing up.

I got a call during medical school that they didn’t expect her to live after she had undergone a cancer operation.  I left my wife and our daughter and returned to Montana to spend a few hours at her bedside as she drifted in and out of consciousness.  I said goodbye and returned to Stanford; she died a few days later.  I didn’t go to the funeral.

Death doesn’t become real to any of us when we are kids or even young adults.  There is a moment for each of us when we suddenly realize, deep in our bones, that we are mortal, that we are going to die, that we can’t do a thing about that.  The death of my grandmother was that moment for me.  The world had changed radically, and I’ve been preparing to die ever since.  So I’d love to spend an hour with her -- it would definitely take the edge off of my fear of death.

That’s what happens in today’s gospel.  Jesus takes the edge off of the fear of death that is in each of his apostles -- indeed in each human being who has gone through that life-changing moment when they realize they are mortal.  And the only way this could have happened is if they were totally convinced that the person standing in front of them was the same one they had spent three years with, the same one that died on the cross.  A ghost couldn’t do that -- you can hallucinate a ghost, and a ghost by definition is not the person it might represent.  And the resurrection was not wishful thinking, or some other myth we could tell our unbelieving friends.  Luke -- and the other gospel writers -- make clear that the tomb which had contained a dead body is now empty; and that Jesus had to tell Mary Magdalene to let go of him; and that he picked up bread and broke it in his two hands; and that he ate some fish because his body was hungry and could digest the fish; and that he bore the wounds of his crucifixion and dared Thomas to touch them.  And in the last appearance recorded by John, he made breakfast for them.  The apostles were convinced; they never looked back, even to the point of giving up their lives -- because Jesus had taken the edge off of the fear of death that was in them.  

Do I still fear death?  On some level, sure.  I’m human.  Even Jesus feared death, otherwise he wouldn’t be human.  He begged his Father to let the cup pass from him.  When we read that statement of his it seems so calm and resigned; but when you read the story carefully, he didn’t say it just once; he prayed intensely for a significant length of time -- long enough for the apostles to doze off twice.  

And he invites you and I when he says, “Touch me and see, because a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you can see I have.”  The proof of the Resurrection, the real physical resurrection, is there in the pages of scripture and what came after, in the lives of the apostles and indeed over the next two thousand years.  Some people who knew death had been conquered went to their own deaths cheerfully -- reluctantly, yes; aware of pain, sure -- but believing that if God could raise Jesus from death to life, and if Jesus promised the same for his followers, then he can certainly do that for you and I.  The Resurrection is God’s promise that all that is a consequence of our sin and mortality will be made right; you and I and our loved ones will live again.

My faith needs  the Resurrection.  As Saint Paul said, “If Christ were not raised, then your faith is in vain, and you are still in your sins”.  Without the Resurrection, we Christians are fools.  And the world needs the Resurrection.  And Jesus tells us in this gospel today, “You are witnesses of these things.”  So pray that you will be a witness of these things by your own conviction that Jesus rose from the dead and lives even now. 

Second Sunday of Easter, cycle B (Mercy Sunday)

John 20:19 - 31

I got confirmed in the seventh grade, back before Vatican II.  We had to select confirmation names, and I had been told that Thomas Aquinas was the greatest theologian the church had ever produced, so that seemed like a cool name.  But as the years went by I identified more with Thomas the apostle, who gets to be called “Doubting Thomas” because of this story in the gospel of John,  Every year, every single year, Catholics and many other Christians rub it in on the first Sunday after Easter.  But we will get to why I identify with him later.

But I have to defend Thomas.  Jesus has appeared to the other disciples -- came in through a locked door at that.  The Gospel of Luke tells us that he even asked for a piece of fish; conquering sin and death takes a lot out of you.  And Jesus gives the apostles power -  to forgive sins! And he gives them his own holy Spirit and sends them forth.  And a week later, they tell Thomas about this, all excited of course -- and Thomas, who is no slouch, notices that they are still in the locked room.  Why should he believe them?  Why would you believe them?  They aren’t doing what they claim Jesus told them to do.  And I think that’s one thing we can take home today.  It isn’t the fault of our friends, or our children, or our co-workers that they are falling away from the church, it’s ours.  They look at what we are saying and they don’t see that we’ve been set on fire, they hear our proclamation that Christ is risen and death is defeated and God’s mercy is available for the taking, and we live as though these are only words.  Jesus told us that if we were his disciples the world would hate us, because it hated him first.  Are we hated?  Not really.  

But notice another thing about this passage.  Thomas believes when Jesus joins the disciples.  We are imperfect, we are sinners, we are really useless servants … but there is hope, because where two or three are gathered together, Jesus is there.  And with Jesus things can be accomplished that can’t be done without him.  And Jesus promised to be with his followers till the end of time, and Thomas and the others spread the gospel throughout the Roman empire and into India and Persia -- all within those first hundred years -- and they suffered and died for the gospel as well, because they knew Jesus was with them, just as he is with us if we are doing what he calls us to do -- to evangelize, to preach the gospel, to be conscious at all times of our role in bringing about the kingdom of heaven.  Jesus told us to “pray always” and that’s what he is talking about.  

And there is still another thing to notice in this passage.  Thomas, like the others, had witnessed the crucifixion of Jesus.  Not up close, but from far off, or maybe he heard it from a reliable witness, I don’t know.  And I don’t know why he wasn’t with the apostles at that first appearance of Jesus.  But I’m sure all his hopes were dashed, I’m sure he was broken-hearted, I’m sure he doubted.  And you know, I doubt sometimes myself.  I’ve gone through spells where I wonder if there’s a god at all, or whether my faith is just wishful thinking.  My faith blows hot and cold.  But Thomas teaches us that the best place to be when you doubt is among believers.  If you crawl away by yourself you can sink into despair, or even worse, indifference; but if you stay with believers, and live like a believer, your faith will come back, your doubts will disappear.  Everyone’s faith grows in fits and starts, but only when you keep in contact with the believing community.  

But doesn’t Jesus himself condemn Thomas’ unbelief? The trouble with the words Jesus speaks to Thomas is that they don’t convey what the Greek words mean, exactly.  The word that is translated as “blessed” is “makarios” which can also be translated as “happy” or “to be envied”.  So Jesus issort of saying “you, Thomas, like the other apostles, have believed because you have seen me.  Be envious of those who believe who have not seen me.”  In other words, those who believe who have not seen have been given a special grace, they are, in a sense, favored by God.  You and I have been given that grace at baptism.  Whether we choose to use it or not is as always up to us; God leaves us completely free.  But we are exposed to the truths of our faith; Our  theologians and philosophers have shown us that those truths are reasonable; our saints have shown us that they are life-giving; our martyrs have shown us that they are worth dying for.  That’s why we are the ones that the apostles envy.

Mercy Sunday.  Doubting Thomas.  The forgiveness of sins by God through the ministry of our priests.  Being sent forth by Jesus himself.  Being accompanied by Jesus whenever we undertake something to bring about his kingdom.  Being recipients of the Body and Blood of our Saviour; being the souls in whom the Father and Son come to dwell, and the Holy Spirit animates.  We are indeed to be envied.  

Easter Sunday, cycle B

John 20:1 - 9

Today’s gospel is from the gospel of John, and describes the discovery of the empty tomb.  The four gospels are fairly consistent in that -- that the realization of the Resurrection of Jesus began in the dark, with a woman or women discovering an empty tomb.  We see Mary Magdalene running to tell Peter and “the disciple Jesus loved” and they in turn run to the tomb.  Although the disciple Jesus loved gets there first, he waits.  But he witnesses the burial cloths neatly folded up.  Peter goes into the tomb and ses the same thing.  The story is straightforward and doesn’t present much in the way of difficulty, until you get to the last two sentences:  “Then the other disciple also went in, the one who had arrived at the tomb first, and he saw and believed.  For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”  Do you get the feeling something is missing here?  If you do, you aren’t alone.  What is it that the beloved disciple believed?  Saint Augustine said he believed what Mary Magdalene had told them, that the body had been taken from the tomb.  I guess that makes sense, but why didn’t the author say that Peter believed it as well?  It isn’t a big stretch if you are staring at the evidence.  Saint John Chrysostom thinks that the beloved disciple had a supernatural infusion of grace so that he believed in the resurrection.  But why go on and say they did not yet understand the scriptures?  Why not, “They finally understood the scriptures..”   There are a couple of ancient copies of the gospel where the writer made sense of it by putting the word “not” in there -- the beloved disciple did not believe.  And then there is a fourth possibility, suggested by still another translator -- the beloved disciple believed that Jesus had returned to the father, as he had predicted -- but didn’t understand that he would be returning to the earth in bodily form.  Professor Scott Hahn tells us that when we come to one of these kinds of passages, it’s a speed bump; It’s supposed to wake us up, make us pay attention.

If you’ve ever seen pictures of the Last Supper, you see a young man sitting next to Jesus, or reclining by Jesus’ side.  That’s the beloved disciple, the one who asks Jesus which of the apostles is going to betray him?  Does it surprise you to know that the majority of scripture scholars don’t think this person is the apostle John?  I won’t go into all the reasons for this, but one of the most popular alternative ideas is that the beloved disciple mentioned only in John and never given a name is the gospel writer’s invitation to his readers to be present in the events starting with the last supper and ending on the shores of the lake of Galilee after the resurrection; in other words, the gospel writer has given his readers a sort of first century stations of the cross.  

And that idea is appealing to me.  As John unfolds the story, you and I are there.  We hear Jesus at the last supper predict to us that Judas will betray him; we are the ones to whom he offers his mother -- making us his brothers and sisters.  We are the ones who believe in the Resurrection before even Jesus’ closest friends do; and we are the ones about whom Jesus says to Peter, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?  Follow me.” and the text goes on to say, it is this disciple who is bearing witness to these things … and his testimony is true.” 

If we are Christians, one of our fundamental beliefs is that we will rise from the dead, not as ghosts, not in the memory of our loved ones, but in a new and improved body, a real body, like Jesus had.  That is an astounding belief when you think about it.  You could argue all day with a disbeliever and never convince that person from the evidence we have that this is a fact.  As far as we can tell from a purely scientific point of view, when you are dead, you are dead.  But you and I are told to believe in the resurrection of the body on the word of Jesus, and belief, in the writings of the New Testament, always means more than simply agreeing with a factual statement.  And belief in the resurrection of the dead, in my own resurrection after I die, is no different.  If I am going to rise again, it really matters what I do during this lifetime.  If I am going to rise, so will my worst enemy, so I better not have any.  If I am going to rise, so is that person on the street pushing a shopping cart full of her earthly belongings, and we will meet someday, and Abraham may say, my child, you had the good things during your life, and now it is her turn.  And I will meet all those lives snuffed out by abortion who will ask, you could have made it possible for me to become a saint.  We believe in the Resurrection; do we believe in it enough to die for it, as so many of our ancestors in the faith did?

And that’s what I think happened in this gospel scene; the beloved disciple believed.  And like the beloved disciple, because we are all beloved disciples, we are the ones who have to bear witness by our lives that the resurrection of Jesus is real, and our own resurrections will be real as well.  

Palm Sunday cycle B 2021

Mark 11:1 – 10, 14:1 – 15 ;47

There’s a lot to digest in the gospel readings today.  You notice that our readings more or less began with Jesus triumphantly entering Jerusalem, and ending with his horrible death on the cross.  And in a way, that reflects part of the journey of faith, a journey that ends in Resurrection, but on the way, there are moments of trump and moments of deepest doubt.  

Think of Peter -- Jesus some time ago designated him as the one who would be the rock of the Church.  Peter was one of the first called to be an apostle.  He had emerged as the spokesman for the apostles, and indeed the leader.  And now it seemed as though the fact that he had left all to follow Jesus was finally being vindicated.  As they entered Jerusalem, the crowds were wild.  They were greeting Jesus like a conquering hero.  Jesus wasn’t the first person to be welcomed with palms and clokes thrown on the floor.  That was indeed the way a general who had won a great victory was welcomed.  And Peter basked in the glow, his faith certain.  

And at the last supper, when Jesus predicted that his disciples would abandon him, he was the first to insist that even if everyone else left him, he would never leave him.  Peter’s faith was strong.  

And then Peter falls asleep in the garden of Gethsemane, not once, but three times, if we are to believe the gospel story.  It’s a hint of what is to come.  Peter’s strong faith isn’t enough to keep his eyes open.  Don’t you feel like that sometimes?  You want to pray, you want to do what God is calling you to do, but your body and nature and the press of other things conspire to hold you back.  Peter can’t stay awake.

And at the arrest of Jesus, Peter leaps to defend Jesus.  In the other gospels we learn that he has a sword and cuts off the ear of the servant of the high priest.  But the force is overwhelming and Peter and the others flee, leaving behind the young man who follows the arresting party for a bit, then runs away naked when they attempt to arrest him as well.  

And finally that terrible scene in the courtyard; “You were with him!” says the servant girl.  “No, not me,” replies Peter.  “Yes, you were,” says a second.  “No, really, girls, you’ve made a mistake,” replies Peter.  Then some of the others join in.  “We saw you with him when he came to town,” they insist.  “May God strike me dead if I was with him,” Peter swears, and leaves his comfortable fire out into the night.  (I was taking liberties with the dialogue, you might have guessed.”  

Can you imagine how Peter felt when he and his fellow apostles were hiding in the dark, knowing that Jesus was slowly, painfully dying on the cross? Did Peter doubt?  Did he wonder how he had ever proclaimed that Jesus was the Messiah of God?  Did he hate himself for not having been able to live up to his own promises, for running when he might have stayed by Jesus’ side?

When Mark wrote his gospel the serious persecutions of Christians had just recently begun.  Many of them had fallen away.  Some of them wanted to come back.  Mark shows in his portrayal of Peter that Peter is not beyond redemption.  We know the re3st of the story, which will be concluded next Sunday.  But we are like Peter.  When things are going well, we feel like we are on top of the world; but when something difficult is asked of us, we often fail.  Some days we are full of faith, on others we doubt; and sometimes the doubt is painful.  

In the original gospel of Mark, it ends with the young man in the tomb telling the women to tell Jesus' disciples that he will meet them in Galilee. And Mark in telling this story assures his readers that JEsus waitsfor us, Jesus uses our doubt to strengthen our faith; Jesus knows our weaknesses and forgives our failure if we but ask.  YOu and I are Peter, if not today, sooner or later.  And Peter is offered redemption over and over again.  And so are you and I.  

Fifth Sunday of Lent, cycle B

John 112:20 - 33

If you read the prophets of the Old Testament -- Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and so on -- you get the sense that the Jewish people saw themselves as having a twofold purpose in the world.  One was to be the people God called them to be -- to live holy lives, to set themselves apart from the ways of th4e rest of the world.  As God declares to them over and over again, “I will be your God; you will be my people''.  The Pharisees lived for this.  Their religion wasn’t just going to synagogue on Sundays; it was 24 - 7.  It was spending all your time learning the law and carrying it out.  There are people like that today especially in Israel, where they are kind of a thorn in the side of the rest of the citizenry, because they don’t work; they live on welfare and spend all their time studying.  The priesthood in Jesus’ time was different.  For those who belonged to this branch of Judaism, and they weren't just the priests, religion consisted of offering holocausts properly.  If you had an account at the temple, you could do about anything you wanted, because your sacrifices were constantly appeasing God.  Both Pharisees and those who belonged to the priestly class thought that they were fulfilling what God called them to do.  But there was another aspect of all this.  The Jewish people understood that they were going to be the vehicle by which God saved the world.  They might be a small and downtrodden nation now, but in time the whole world would be coming to Jerusalem to learn from the Jews.  

And that’s what is happening here.  Just before this passage begins, the Jewish authorities are saying to one another, “ Look, the whole world is coming to him” and sure enough, some Greeks show up -- looking for him.  And that is why Jesus now says that his hour has come.  Because Jesus is the embodiment of what the Jews believed about themselves; he is the one who will perfectly satisfy the law, and the one who will offer the perfect once and for all sacrifice.

In the other gospels, Jesus undergoes an agony in the garden of Gethsemane.  He sweats blood, he weeps, he cries out “If there is another way, Father, take this cup from me”.  But in John Jesus shows no such agony; he is ready to do what the Father has put him on the earth to do.  There are so many differences between the Jesus described in John and as described in the other gospels that people wonder about whether they are talking about the same man.  But that’s why we say Jesus had a human nature and a divine nature; and I think it’s fair to say that John’s Jesus is speaking from his divine nature.  

Jesus tells us two things about the death he is about to undergo; one is that like a grain of wheat which must be buried in the earth if it is to  bear fruit, Jesus must die in order to bear fruit.  The second is that in dying on the cross, he will draw to himself all people.  This drawing to himself is connected to judgement.  How does that judgement come about?  When you and I and indeed every person looks upon Christ crucified, we cannot be indifferent.  Either we believe this is God acting to save us, or we don’t.  And we then proceed as we believe; we either listen and obey, or we ignore and go about our business.  That’s why some people hear the voice of God promising to glorify his name, and others just hear thunder.  Because our salvation depends on how we choose to accept or reject the crucified Christ.  

And Jesus, remarkably, invites you and I to imitate him.  He talks about loving our lives and consequently losing them.  If we depend on ourselves to save ourselves, we have no salvation; we can’t save ourselves or anyone else.  It’s only when we offer our lives to God and allow him to direct us that we in a sense become other Christs and recipients of the same promise made to Jesus, the promise of eternal life.  And I think that that is what believing is all about.  It doesn’t mean we can't have doubts.  It doesn't mean we can’t have moments when we wonder if God exists.  It doesn’t mean we can’t disappoint ourselves and God by our sins.  Saint Theresa of Calcutta in private letters to her confessor talked about her own doubts, her own difficulty in believing even that there was a God, let alone that he loved her and cared for her.  But she trudged on, acting on the words of Jesus -- that he was present in the sick and dying people on the streets of Calcutta.  And in the end, that seems to be what matters most to Jesus.  And the scriptures don’t tell us about the appearance of the risen Jesus to Mary his mother. Most people would think that he did appear to her.  But I wonder if the lack of an appearance was because Mary needed nothing to strengthen her faith; she would continue to go on doing what God wanted her to do whether or not Jesus appeared to her in the flesh, because she had perfect faith.  

So on the fifth Sunday of Lent, let us ask ourselves whether we are living lives of faith, lives where we die to ourselves and live for others, just as Jesus did.  

Fourth Sunday of Lent, cycle B

John 3:14 - 21

“God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, so that whoever believed in him might not perish but have eternal life.”  This is probably the most famous verse of the New Testament among Christians in the United States.  When you see a placard at a football game that says “John 3:16” that’s the verse.  And it seems so comforting.  All you have to do is believe in Him.  But what does that mean?  Does it mean that you believe that Jesus was the second person of the blessed trinity?  Does it mean Jesus founded a church that would last till the end of time?  Which church, what does “church” mean anyway? Or does it mean that Jesus suffered and died so that we wouldn’t have to?  It’s pretty important to know what Jesus is talking about.  IF we get it wrong, we might perish.

The first thing to think about is that God so loved the world that he gave his only son. A lot of us forget that the world needs saving; if it didn’t God certainly went to a lot of trouble for nothing.  I think anyone who looks at the world, either now or 2000 years ago or even way before that, could deny that the world needs saving, and, unfortunately, will always need saving.  And you and I can choose to be in the world, needing saving, or not of the world, and not being subject to condemnation.  

In his dialogue with  Nicodemus, Jesus refers to an event described in the book of Numbers.  Numbers, by the way, is the account of the Jewish people’s wandering in the desert after escaping from Egypt. They called it Numbers because there are a lot of genealogies there.  Numbers contains the origin stories of the tribes of Israel as well as some of the other tribes of the middle East of that time.  One theme going through Numbers is that the Chosen People did a lot of grumbling and falling away from their covenant with God.  Usually these bring on some kind of reaction on the part of God.  In this particular case the people complain against God because they have run out of water and are tired of eating manna.  So the story goes that the Lord sent poisonous snakes among them and many of those bitten died.  When the people repented they asked Moses to pray to God to spare them, and God’s reply was to tell Moses to make a bronze image of the serpent and put it on a pole.  And this is the point:  the people had to look at the image in order to recover from their snakebite.  Why all this trouble?  Why didn’t God just cure the people?  Well, I don’t speak for God, but I suspect it’s something like many other miracles.  Naaman the Syrian had to bathe seven times in the Jordan river to get over his leprosy.  It seems like you need at least a little faith to take advantage of a miracle, and so God required the people who had been bitten to fix their eyes on the bronze serpent.  

And that gives us a hint as to what Jesus means when he says “whoever believed in him might not perish but have eternal life.”  Believing in Jesus isn’t just agreeing with statements of fact.  It’s also not the same as feeling love.  It really has to do with something very difficult to do -- as long as you have the mistaken attitude that you are the center of the universe, something we all have to some extent, I’m pretty sure.  Jesus over and over demonstrates that he can deal with our problems.  He can drive out demons, heal us, raise us from the dead.  And not only does he demonstrate that he has the power, he tells us in many different ways that we will be a lot better off leaving him to take care of things rather than trying to do it ourselves.  Believing in him means trusting that he’s in control and has our best interests at heart.    

What does that look like?  As I said, it’s very difficult so don’t look at me.  But we can look at saints, especially martyrs.  Bishop John Fisher went to his execution in his best clothing, telling those around him that this was his wedding day.  Maximilian Kolbe traded places with a prisoner who was going to be starved to death.  Lawrence the deacon, it is said, was roasted on a gridiron and called out, turn me over, I’m done on this side.  When we believe in Jesus, we no longer fear death because we trust what he has told us.  When we believe in Jesus, we have the potential to be martyrs.  When we believe in Jesus to that extent, we are no longer part of the condemned world, and we escape judgment.

And believing in Jesus means that we recognize our helplessness.  In the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the Pharisee was obviously a good man – prayed, avoided sin, gave to the poor, fasted twice a week – and he even thanked God that he was like that.  But the tax collector went home justified, because he recognized that he was  a sinner and could only beg for mercy.  Saint Francis de Sales nearly had a nervous breakdown when he became serious about his faith, because he saw how far he was from what the gospels seemed to imply.  It was only when he decided to accept the mercy of God that he developed the peace that characterized his life.  So believing in Jesus becomes easy once we realize that even the gift of belief comes from Him, not from anything we do ourselves.    

And during this lent let us look upon the crucified Christ who went to his own death totally trusting in the Father’s love and pray to have that same kind of trust and pray that prayer, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”

  

Third Sunday of Lent, cycle B

John 2:13 - 25

Each of the four gospels contains an account of Jesus “cleansing the temple”.  But although the episode certainly took place, there are two problems.  We don’t know exactly what Jesus was doing this for, and we don’t know why each gospel writer wants us to pay attention to the episode.  Naturally that has resulted in an enormous amount of ink being spilled by theologians.  

When we think about the first question, it seems obvious that Jesus is inviting trouble from the authorities, but that his action isn’t going to change anything.  One of the major purposes of the temple was to offer sacrifices to God.  There was no other legitimate place for a Jewish person to offer sacrifice.  If you go into the old Testament you will find a long list of sacrifices that are to be offered for certain sins, or in thanksgiving, or to accompany prayers for some event.  And good Jews made it a point to get to Jerusalem as often as possible to offer sacrifices.  But this became a burden if you lived a long way away.  So on those rare occasions when you did make the journey, you would bring money.  The temple was a full service religious center.  You could get your money changed into temple money, which did not have images on it or blasphemous phrases like “Divine Caesar”.  And once you had the temple money you could buy an animal or two to be sacrificed, knowing that the animal had been pre-approved by the priests.  Only “unblemished” animals were acceptable to God.  So the whole system worked.  A lot of imagination goes into depicting the situation.  In movies people are yelling and animals are braying and there is lots of noise and clinking of coins.  However, none of the gospels record that sort of thing; for all we know it might have been very peaceful and reverent.  So Jesus disrupts all this.

Now the key to the event is that the authorities don’t say, “Stop doing that or I’m calling the police!”  They say, “What sign can you show us for doing this?”  In other words, “We know you are performing a prophetic act, but what is the message?”  If you go back and read some of the prophets, that was the general thing; they would do something that would attract everyone’s attention, and then would explain what the action signified.  And all the gospels record the words “My house is a house of prayer, but you have made it into a marketplace” – or words similar to that.  Now the interesting thing is that each gospel writer uses this statement in a different way.  John gives us a hint here, when he quotes Jesus as saying “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”  Jesus doesn’t say that in the other three gospels.  And John comments that Jesus was talking about the temple of his body, which only became clear to the apostles after he was raised up.  

The temple was considered the dwelling place of God on earth.  Jesus proved himself God when he rose from the dead.  So I guess you can see how Jesus is the new temple.  But there is another passage in John, not in the other gospels, which to a first century Jew would drive home this comparison.  You can imagine the temple, especially during the Passover season when tourists from all over were coming with their sacrifices.  Priests would be slaughtering animals one after the other; the blood would be drained, because some of the sacrifice would be burned, but most would be given to the priests and temple attendants as sort of a payment for service; and out of this some would be distributed to the poor.  So the meat had to be without blood, it had to be kosher, if it was going to be consumed.  What happened to all the blood?  I was collected in a kind of drainage system, in which water diverted from a natural spring was flowing.  The temple stood on the side of a valley and the water and blood would flow out from the side of the temple.  John tells us, and he is the only one who does so, that blood and water flowed from Jesus’ side after he was pierced by the soldier after his crucifixion.  

Jesus is the temple of God on this earth.  Jesus is present in the Blessed Sacrament, body and blood, soul and divinity.  That makes our churches the dwelling place of God in a secondary sense.  But most importantly for you and I, it makes us, when we receive the Holy Eucharist, the special presence of God in the world.  The sinless Mother of God fully consented to God dwelling within her, and out of that consent God entered the world and changed history forever.  The more we get out of the way, the more we say, “let it be done to me according to your word,” the more will Jesus be conceived in us, the more we will become what we are supposed to be -- the dwelling place of God on earth, because Jesus lives in us.

During lent, think about the Eucharist, think about his great mystery, think about what 

It means every time you receive the Body and Blood of Jesus, and pray that as he did with Mary, God will give us the grace to bring Jesus’ presence into our world.