THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT – YEAR B
FROM TEMPLE RELIGION TO WORSHIP OF THE HEART
The audience is often surprised whenever one speaks of the need for renunciation, self-control, and sacrifice. They sometimes react with a wry smile and a blink, while a few are amused. It's pretty embarrassing; it was the same for Paul in Caesarea. The Roman procurator had listened carefully to the apostle. Still, when Paul began "to speak about justice, self-control and the future judgment," he interrupted him: "You may leave now—he said—I shall send for you some other time" (Acts 24:25).
In a world where success smiles at opportunists, where those who enjoy life are admired, all intemperance is allowed, and they make their might the rule of law (Wis2:6-11). Whoever recalls certain values, advising challenging choices runs the risk of not being understood and becoming unpopular. Yet, this is not the only reason why today's Christian ethics is viewed with distrust and mocked.
There is an error that educators, motivated with the best of intentions, often make: they present moral obligations before speaking about God and his love, before making it clear that he is not against man’s happiness, but the Father who desires that his children have the fullness of life. The failure to adopt this theological and pedagogical approach is the first reason for rejecting Christian morality.
And there's a second reason—hypocrisy. That is impeccable religious practice disconnected from love and justice, the worship of God associated with attachment to money and holding a grudge against one’s brother, and the performance of external rites aimed at silencing the conscience. Liturgical services are authentic only when they celebrate a life according to the Gospel. The prayers acceptable to God are those prayed"lifting up pure hands, without anger and dissension" (1 Tim 2:8).
"Pure and unblemished religious practice
is never to be separated from loving people."
First Reading: Exodus 20:1-17
It may be that the Law of God and the Ten Commandments are, for less committed Christians, an endless list of prohibitions that provoke their instinctive rejection. Or they may, as Paul argued, stimulate all sorts of desires in opposition to what they command: "I would not have known sin were it not for the Law. I would not have known covetousness if the Law had not said, 'You shalt not covet.'" (Rom 7:7-8).
Let us draw near to the famous text that is being proposed in today's reading, starting with giving back to the Ten Commandments their proper name: decalogue, that is, ‘ten words.’ They are not—and this cannot be emphasized enough—legal rules imposed by a despot who is not obliged to justify his orders. There is no penalty attached. There is only a promise of good for those who honor father and mother, "that you may have a long life in the land that the Lord has given you" (v. 12).
It is wrong to present them as precepts upon which, one day, every man will be judged and will receive a prize or suffer punishment. No, there will not be an offended and angry God ready to punish the offenders. Who does not listen to the Lord do not have to fear future punishment but is called to realize that today he is ruining his life and damaging that of others. It is today that God, as a loving father, turns to his son and sincerely reminds him: "I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore, choose life that you and your descendants may live" (Deut 30:19).
The ‘ten words’ are recorded in the Bible in two versions (Ex 20:2-17; Deut 5:6-21), introduced by the same formula: "I am the Lord, your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery" (v. 2). That is the key to understanding the whole text. The Decalogue is not a hard and heavy yoke, not a list of unjustified injunctions, but ten words of a father who cares about the lives of his children. The one who points out the actions to take to remain free is the same God who has delivered his people from Egypt and does not tolerate any fo rm of slavery. Only after realizing the identity of the author of these ten words and the purpose for which they were spoken is one willing to respond to God, as Israel did, "All that the Lord said we shall do and obey" (Ex 24:7).
No other code of the ancient Middle East has an introduction similar to that of the Decalogue. The most famous, that of Hammurabi, is preceded by a lengthy prologue in which the great king first introduces himself as ‘the zealous prince in charge of manifesting justice, who directs and teaches the people the right way for the country,’ then give instructions, the fruit of his insight and wisdom. No king of Israel had ever assumed the right to promulgate a code: in Israel, the way of life could only be given by God. Even the language used by the biblical text is original and in keeping with the verse that introduces the Decalogue.
In the ancient Middle East codes, the precepts were stated with a generic, impersonal formula, "If anyone will do such a thing ... he will suffer the following punishment...." Not so with the ten words. The Lord addresses these directly to everyone, ‘You do, or you do not do, this or the other.’ The pious Israelite is always asked directly by his God and never reduces his loyalty to the strict observance of rules but lives it as a personal response to the Lord.
The Decalogue had an all-pervasive significance in the religious life of Israel. It was the synthesis of the entire Torah. It was solemnly read during the Feast of Tabernacles and was used in the daily liturgy of the Temple. Even today, every Jew repeats it, twice a day, in the morning and evening prayers. On the bar mitzvah feast, he, having reached the age of 13, becomes an adult, proclaims it before the assembly congregated in the synagogue to declare his decision to remain faithful to the law of his people.
The esteem given to the Decalogue was always so high that the priests of the Temple restricted its use to, particularly solemn moments. To prevent the spread of the belief that God gave only the Ten Commandments, some rabbis maintained that, on the two tablets, from one letter to the next of the decalogue, God had written all the 613 precepts.
Given the importance the Decalogue had in the Jewish religion, it is surprising that it is never explicitly mentioned in the New Testament and did not have a specific place in the preaching of Jesus and the early Church. Only Mark tells us that Jesus, only once, quoted it in an incomplete way (Mk 10:19). Although its value is never questioned, it did not occupy the center of the Master’s moral preaching. It was never identified with the will of God.
Jesus summed up the entire Torah, not in ten words, but first in two: "You shall love the Lord your God … and you shall love your neighbor" (Mt 22:34-40), and then only one: "Love one another" (Jn 13:34-35). Throughout the rest of the New Testament, it is always talking about one commandment, as Paul reminds us: "The one who loves his or her neighbor fulfills the Law. For the commandments: do not commit adultery, do not kill, do not covet and whatever else are summarized in this one: You will love your neighbor as yourself" (Rom 13:8-9).
The precept of love is not only the synthesis of all commandments but opens endless horizons and possibilities. None of the ‘ten commandments’ oblige to love the enemy, to forgive without limits and conditions, to generously distribute one’s goods to those in need, to sacrifice one’s life for the brethren, including the enemy. None of this is imposed by the ‘ten commandments,’ but the law of love demands it. It requires constant attention to the brethren, boundless generosity, and a heart as big as that of the Father who is in heaven.
If the disciple of Christ is willing, like the Master, to give, at any time, one’s own life, does it still make sense to remind us not to kill, steal, and commit adultery…?
The ten words are always present, even if they indicate only the essential discipleship's first steps. They do not cover the whole law of God because, as Paul says, "love fulfills the whole Law" (Rom 13:10). However, they are helpful because they resemble those that are the minimum boundaries of love. Those who is aware of not being faithful even to these should take note of his plight and admit to having broken down the last fence that separated him from the choice of death.
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:22-25
In these four verses, we have the heart of Paul's preaching: Christ crucified is the sign of God's love. In the face of this love, no one can remain indifferent; all must take a stand. There are two negative responses: the Jews, for whom the crucified Jesus is a scandal, and the Greeks who consider such doctrine insane.
The Jews were expecting spectacular demonstrations of God's power, as happened during the Exodus from Egypt. They were convinced that the new world would be prodigiously born (v. 22). Jesus was challenged to show such power by coming down from the cross that God was on his side. However, He accepted apparent defeat. The sages of Greece did not believe in miracles. They trusted, like the eighteenth-century Illuminists, only in the power of reason (v. 23). The death of Jesus on the cross did not follow any human logic and was, therefore, genuine madness.
Paul denounces the two attitudes because they can always infiltrate the community of disciples. There may be those who think like the Jews and consider faith and religion as means to obtain graces and miracles, to be preserved from calamities and misfortunes that affect other people. Don’t many Christians perhaps worship the saints more like the authors of wonders than witnesses of the One who gave his life for the brethren?
There are also Christians who behave like Greeks. They claim rational proofs for faith and forget that, for those who judge according to the criteria of this world, the proposal of Christ will always appear crazy.
Gospel: John 2:13-25
All four evangelists record the scene of the expulsion of the merchants from the Temple, which shows the importance they attributed to the fact.
During Passover, Jerusalem was full of pilgrims from all over the world who had arrived to celebrate the festival, offer sacrifices and fulfill vows. The city, which normally counted fifty thousand inhabitants, could reach a hundred and eighty thousand on the occasion of Passover. Therefore, all the families were involved in hosting a few guests. Many pilgrims came from distant countries after saving and making sacrifices for years to be able to afford their once-in-a-lifetime “pilgrimage” (Ps 84:6). During the festive days, they went to the Temple to pray, seek counsel from the priests, offer burnt offerings to the Lord, and deliver their generous offerings of copper coins - the only ones that could be used in the holy place. The money of Rome was declared legally unclean and had to be changed at the appropriate tables of money changers.
For the traders, the time of Passover was an opportunity not to be missed. In a few weeks, they could make more profit than throughout the rest of the year. Despite high prices, pilgrims thronged the shops from early morning until late at night. It was difficult for the temple priests to resist getting involved in so profitable a turnover. In fact, during the three weeks before Easter, under the arcades of the sacred precinct, they also opened their market. They decorated the royal porch for the sale of lambs. (It is said that, for the Passover meal, 18,000 oxen and other animals were sacrificed). At the bottom of the stairs that, from the southwest, led into the Temple, four rooms intended for the moneychangers were set aside. They demanded a deduction of twelve percent for their commission. In and around the holy place, the comings and goings were indescribable. It was all a clamor of merchants, farmers, tanners, guards, and pilgrims.
The aristocrats of Jerusalem, belonging to the sect of the Sadducees, were the beneficiaries of this trade. The managers were members of the family of the high priestsAnnas and Caiaphas who, for decades, controlled the economic and religious power of the capital. The house of prayer had thus been transformed by its own ministers into a marketplace. The dramatic episode narrated in today's Gospel takes place in this context. It is on the occasion of a Passover feast that Jesus came to the Temple, and he came across the unworthy spectacle described above (vv. 13-14).
The emotions that he experienced are not referred to by any evangelist, but they are easy to understand, considering his reaction. He did not say a word; he made a whip, probably using ropes tied to the beasts. Then he began to cast out all from the royal porch furiously. He upended chairs, money, cages of doves. Then, without pausing, he went down the staircase and took the moneychangers by surprise. He overturned their tables and threw down the coins they had piled on top. John, the only one among the evangelists, notes that sheep and oxen were also driven out (v. 15).
The gesture of Jesus decreed the end of religion related to the offering of animals. He declared God’s refusal of bloody sacrifices whose inadequacy had been denounced by the prophets: "What do I care—says the Lord—for your endless sacrifices? I am fed up with your burnt offerings, and the fat of your bulls. The blood of fatlings and lambs and he-goats I abhor" (Is 1:11). In the greatest proof of love that Jesus was going to give, the only sacrifice pleasing to the Father would be shown, the one John spoke of to the Christians of his community: "This is how we have known what love is; he gave his life for us, for our brothers and sisters" (1 Jn 3:16).
The violent gesture of Jesus in the Temple is amazing. From one who presented himself as "meek and humble of heart" (Mt 11:29), no one could have expected such a reaction; it is certainly unsettling. Why did he behave in this way? The explanation lies in the two sentences he uttered.
The first: "Take all this away, and stop turning my Father’s house into a marketplace"(v. 16). He was referring to an oracle of the prophet Zechariah who, after announcing the appearance of a wholly renovated world in which the Lord would become king over all the earth, and the country would be transformed into a garden, concluded: "There will no longer be merchants in the house of the Lord" (Zec 14:21).
By purifying the Temple of the merchants, Jesus pronounced his severe, absolute sentence against mingling religion and money between worshipping the Lord and economic interests. God expects only love from man and love is free. It shows and nourishes itself only through generous and disinterested gifts. To avoid dangerous misunderstandings, Jesus ordered his disciples: "You received this as a gift, so give it as a gift. Do not carry any gold silver or copper in your purses. Do not take a traveler’s bag, or an extra shirt, or sandals, or a staff: workers deserve their living" (Mt 10:8-10).
However, the most important teaching is in the second sentence: "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up" (v. 19). He was not referring to more trade and unworthy traffic in the sanctuary but the inauguration of a new temple. He announced the beginning of a new cult. The evangelist's comment is a clarifier: "He was referring to the temple of his body" (v. 21).
The Jews believed that God dwelt in the sanctuary of Jerusalem, where they flocked to offer sacrifices. Jesus said that this religion had now fulfilled and completed its function.The dramatic scene of the rending of the Temple veil at Jesus’ death (Mt 27:51) would mark the end of all the temple sacred spaces, of all places reserved for the encounter with God. It was the solemn declaration that the time of the separation between the holy and the profane is over. Wherever one is in communion with Christ, one is united with God and can worship the Father.
Jesus' gesture of cleansing the Temple is not equivalent to a simple correction of abuses, but the announcement of the passing of the Temple, which had been regarded as a guarantee of the presence of God and salvation. Man’s encounter with God would no longer be in a particular place but a new temple: the body of the risen Christ.
To the Samaritan woman who asked him the place where the Lord is worshipped, Jesus replied: "Believe me, woman, the hour is coming when you shall worship the Father, but that will not be on this mountain nor in Jerusalem …. The true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth; for that is the kind of worshippers the Father wants" (Jn 4:21-24).
Some New Testament texts make clear what the new worship introduced by Jesus consisted of. In writing to the Romans, Paul recommends: "I beg you, dearly beloved, by the mercy of God, to give yourselves as a living and holy sacrifice pleasing to God; that is the kind of worship for you, as sensible people" (Rom 12:1) and the author of the Letter to the Hebrews: "Do not neglect good works and common life, for these are the sacrifices pleasing to God" (Heb 13:16). James concretized, even more, the content of the new cult: "Pure and blameless religion lies in helping the orphans and widows in their need and keeping oneself from the world’s corruption" (Jas 1:27). These sacrifices that the Christian is called to make do not occur in a sacred ambient or through rites but in one’s personal life.
The establishment of the new church began—as is repeated twice in today’s Gospel—after three days (v. 20), that is, on Easter day. Raising from the dead his Son, the Father has laid the cornerstone of the new sanctuary. Peter urges the newly baptized in his community to be united to Christ, "the living stone, rejected by people but chosen by God and precious to him." He explains: Set yourselves close to him so that you, too, become living stones built into a spiritual temple … spiritual sacrifices that please God" (1 P 2:4-5).
Now it is clear: the only sacrifice acceptable to God is the gift of life; this includes the works of love, the selfless service rendered to persons, especially the poorest, the sick, the marginalized, the hungry and the naked. Whoever stoops in front of a brother to serve him performs a priestly gesture: united to Christ, the temple of God, who brings to heaven the sweet aroma of a pure and holy offering.
Then, what is the point of our solemn liturgies, sacraments, chanting, processions, pilgrimages, community prayers, and devotional practices? They don’t give anything to God; they don’t add anything to his perfect joy. Our religious ceremonies respond to a deep human need: to celebrate, through gestures and sensible signs, individually and in community, what one believes. The sacraments are signs by which God communicates his Spirit, and man expresses his gratitude to him for this gift. The error is to assume that the performance of rituals is sufficient to establish a good relationship with the Lord and that participation in solemn celebrations can replace concrete works of love.
Today’s Gospel ends on a surprising note: during the feast, Jesus performed signs and many people believed in him, but he did not trust himself to them because he knew the mall and knew what was in every man (vv. 23-25). The reason for this detached attitude of Jesus is that these people were drawn to him not because they were attracted by his message but because they had witnessed miracles. Faith that needs to see or verified with outstanding works is fragile. Jesus would not trust, even today, anyone who seeks him as a miracle worker. True faith is to accept him, become with him living stones of the new temple, and sacrifice one’s life for the brothers and sisters.
