“Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.”
I think we Catholics today can congratulate ourselves
on having avoided this.
Well, apart from bingo and raffles
and bake sales and holiday craft fairs
and sales of fairly-traded coffee and chocolate
and also Lenten fish fries.
But apart from those, we’re doing really well.
And even those things are relatively harmless,
and may even serve salutary purposes
of raising money for good causes
and of building a sense of community.
I think we Catholics today can congratulate ourselves
on having avoided this.
Well, apart from bingo and raffles
and bake sales and holiday craft fairs
and sales of fairly-traded coffee and chocolate
and also Lenten fish fries.
But apart from those, we’re doing really well.
And even those things are relatively harmless,
and may even serve salutary purposes
of raising money for good causes
and of building a sense of community.
But Jesus is, I think, criticizing
something more than mere commerce.
He is offended by something more
than money changing hands in a sacred place.
Throughout his ministry,
both in his words and in his actions,
Jesus teaches that our relationship with God
should not be thought of as a transaction
in which I give something to God—
some slice of my time and attention,
some thing that I give up as a sacrifice,
some number of good deeds—
in order to receive some benefit,
whether this be a crude expectation
of prosperity and material gain
or, perhaps more likely,
the more sophisticated desire
for peace of mind and spiritual consolation.
This is the idea that I can give God
some determinate amount of my love,
or at least of my obedience,
in order to receive some specific reward.
something more than mere commerce.
He is offended by something more
than money changing hands in a sacred place.
Throughout his ministry,
both in his words and in his actions,
Jesus teaches that our relationship with God
should not be thought of as a transaction
in which I give something to God—
some slice of my time and attention,
some thing that I give up as a sacrifice,
some number of good deeds—
in order to receive some benefit,
whether this be a crude expectation
of prosperity and material gain
or, perhaps more likely,
the more sophisticated desire
for peace of mind and spiritual consolation.
This is the idea that I can give God
some determinate amount of my love,
or at least of my obedience,
in order to receive some specific reward.
The entire life of Jesus is an assault on this idea.
In embodying for us the God who is love,
the God with whom we can strike no bargain
but to whom we can give nothing less than everything,
and from whom we can only receive with gratitude,
Jesus seeks to drive from the temple of our hearts
the idea that our relationship with God
is an exchange or transaction,
lashing this idea with the cords
of God’s mercy and love,
offered to us free of charge.
Jesus does this just so that we
can come to know God truly,
to grasp what it means
to love and be loved by God.
We generally don’t approach as transactions
the relationships that matter to us most.
I don’t offer my wife a kiss
just so she will mow the lawn;
I don’t take out the garbage
just so she will do the laundry;
or, at least, if I do,
I feel slightly ashamed of myself.
Because love is not a matter
of calculating costs and benefits.
Love is a matter of giving everything
when you have nothing to gain in return,
of receiving everything
when you have nothing of your own to give.
In love’s economy
we are all both generous donors
and humble beggars.
And this is true above all with God.
Jesus teaches us through his life
that God’s love cannot be purchased,
that God’s laws are not
the price sticker on divine favor,
that our obedience is not the currency
with which we purchase prosperity
or inner peace
or even our salvation.
Jesus teaches us this
with agonizing clarity
in his death on the cross,
when he gives himself totally
into his Father’s loving hands
to win for us the precious gift of eternal life.
The shocking message of the Gospel
is that the love that is God
is most fully shown forth
in the pain and shame
of Christ crucified,
which St. Paul tells us is
“a stumbling block to Jews
and foolishness to Gentiles.”
As anyone who has ever fallen in love can tell you,
love can make you look weak and foolish
in the eyes of the world.
It can make you look weak and foolish
because it pulls you out of the economy
of reasonable exchanges,
of calculating costs and benefits,
of giving in order to get.
Spouses, parents, or anyone blessed
with a true and lasting friendship
all know the weakness of being overwhelmed by love,
the foolishness of not caring whether what you give
is balanced out by what you get.
And Jesus tells us that this is what God is.
Think of the deepest
and most enduring love you have known.
Think of the sacrifices
you have made for that love.
Think of the unrepayable gifts
you have gained from that love.
Think of the ways that love
has broken open your heart.
God is all of that and more.
On the cross God embraces
weakness and foolishness
because that is simply what love does.
And in that embrace God reveals
the power and wisdom of love,
for, as St. Paul says,
“the foolishness of God
is wiser than human wisdom,
and the weakness of God
is stronger than human strength.”
Think of the deepest
and most enduring love you have known.
Think of the sacrifices
you have made for that love.
Think of the unrepayable gifts
you have gained from that love.
Think of the ways that love
has broken open your heart.
God is all of that and more.
On the cross God embraces
weakness and foolishness
because that is simply what love does.
And in that embrace God reveals
the power and wisdom of love,
for, as St. Paul says,
“the foolishness of God
is wiser than human wisdom,
and the weakness of God
is stronger than human strength.”
Our souls are God’s temple;
our hearts are God’s house.
Let us not make them marketplaces
in which we seek to transact the business
of bargaining with God for our salvation.
Let us rather let Jesus cleanse them.
Let us allow ourselves to be weak and foolish
for the sake of crucified love.
Let us make our hearts into homes
within which we welcome
the power and wisdom of God.
And may God have mercy on us all.
our hearts are God’s house.
Let us not make them marketplaces
in which we seek to transact the business
of bargaining with God for our salvation.
Let us rather let Jesus cleanse them.
Let us allow ourselves to be weak and foolish
for the sake of crucified love.
Let us make our hearts into homes
within which we welcome
the power and wisdom of God.
And may God have mercy on us all.
