Holy Monday: Overturning Tables
A Reflection by Jesse Steven Wheeler*
Echoing the Roman triumphus, about which I wrote yesterday, Jesus concludes his triumphal march at the Jerusalem Temple. But, rather than perpetuate the propagandistic cult of imperial religion, Jesus undertakes an act of prophetic brilliance practically engineered to incur the wrath of the exploitative religious and political-economic powers of the city:
On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’” The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.
—Mark 11:15–18 (NIV)
In the temple, Jesus rages against the corruption of religious practice for the sake of financial gain. But, historical context is key. In early Jewish thought, the temple existed as the center of the cosmos. It housed the very presence (or shekinah) of God, served as the place of meeting between God and humankind, and acted as the singular point at which heaven and earth overlap. During the post-exilic era of the Second Temple, however, it also acted as the center of Judean political-economic life, with high priests essentially functioning as theocrats (pre-Herod) or Roman imperial puppets (post-Herod).
Furthermore, Hellenistic temples functioned as regional economic exchanges, as banks wherein debts were recorded—financial centers through which the extractive imperial economy operated. It was simply too much that the Lord’s own house had become, as a result of this unholy amalgamation of wealth, power, and piety, the very source of the people's exploitation, poverty, and debt. Moreover, the fact that such exploitative practices took place in the Court of Gentiles (meant to serve quite literally as an open “house of prayer for all nations”) added an ethnic dimension to the mix, making things that much worse. In response, we find Jesus, the living temple in whose person is found the presence, or shekinah of God on earth, standing outside of and in judgment against the very edifice constructed to house that presence. Ultimately, Jesus constituted an existential threat to the status quo, and it would cost him his life.
Reflect
How do contemporary religious and political-economic entanglements resemble those of the ancient temple? In what ways do our modern realities differ?
Budgets reflect our moral and ethical priorities. How does Jesus function as Lord over your financial decision making? How might this change your personal or family budget? Consider also your community of faith, workplace, or local and regional government.
Pray
We cry to you for justice, O Lord, for our soul is weary with the iniquity of greed. Behold the servants of Mammon, who defy you and drain their fellow men and women for gain; who grind down the strength of workers by merciless toil and fling them aside when they are mangled and worn; who ransack the poor and make dear the space and air which you have made free; who paralyze the hand of justice by corruption and blind the eyes of the people by lies; who nullify by their craft the merciful laws which nobler persons have devised for the protection of the weak; who have made us ashamed of our dear country by their defilements and have turned our holy freedom into a hollow name; who have brought upon your church the contempt of humanity and have cloaked their extortion with the gospel of Christ.
For the oppression of the poor and the sighing of the needy now do you arise, O Lord; for because you are love, and tender as a mother to the weak, therefore, you are the great hater of iniquity and your doom is upon those who grow rich on the poverty of the people. Oh God, we are afraid, for the thundercloud of your wrath is even now black above us. In the ruins of dead empires we have read how you have trodden the wine-press of your anger when the measure of their sin was full. We are sick at heart when we remember that by the greed of those who enslaved another race that curse was fastened upon us all which still lies black and hopeless across our land, though the blood of a nation was spilled to atone. Save our people from being dragged down into vaster guilt and woe by those who have no vision and know no law except their lust. Shake their souls with awe of you that they may cease. Help us with clean hands to tear the web which they have woven about us and turn our people back to your law, lest the mark of beast stand out on the right hand and forehead of our nation and our feet be set on the downward path of darkness from which there is no return forever.
—Walter Rauschenbusch (1910)
*excerpt from Jesse Steven Wheeler, Serving a Crucified King: Meditations on Faith, Politics, and the Unyielding Pursuit of God’s Reign (Eugene: Resource Publications, 2021)