A Tantrum In The Temple

A Tantrum in the Temple
(The Jesus Diary Continues)

Word of Jesus' party-saving wine production at Cana was on everyone's lips. Jesus seemed embarrassed by this notoriety. His hesitancy when Mary told him about the shortage hinted that he didn't want to stand out in the public eye just yet. This attitude was soon to change. Here's how it happened.

I was in Jerusalem for Passover. It's a big occasion, with massive crowds from all over the country. The temple in Jerusalem is a sacred and revered place. This is where the High Priest officiates and where people come to offer sacrifice. It's also where many of them get fleeced.

It's a busy place, a madhouse, sometimes. There is so much going on it's almost a bazaar, with animals, holy men, and visitors from all across the land. Also shysters and crooks.

When rural folks arrive in the city they are immediately targets for shady characters. They're not accustomed to keeping a tight hold on their purse, lest a light-fingered pick pocket help himself to its contents. Cries of "Stop, thief!" often resound throughout the temple.

But even more dangerous are the crooked moneychangers.

They exchange money from the provinces into the proper funds for use in the temple, exacting a fee for the transaction. They charge whatever they can get away with. There's no accounting, no oversight; it's an opportunity for graft and greed.

Local folks know the game. Even the sharpest shysters can't shortchange them. But few out-of-towners complain, mainly because they're unfamiliar with the money and the exchange process itself. There are language problems as well. And some are simply terrified just being in the big city and afraid to raise a ruckus.

It may be a Temple but on that particular day it seemed more like a barn, filled with sheep, oxen, goats, pigeons and doves of all colors. Some were in pens and cages, but many were loose, accompanied by their owners who were offering them for sale as sacrifice. The bleating of lambs, the moaning of oxen, and cooing of doves and pigeons filled the air. Unfortunately the air was also filled with the odors of these animals and their droppings. It hardly seemed to be a holy place.

Adding to the din was the incessant hawking and yelling of the vendors of these animals. It was as if Yahweh would be stirred into action on your behalf because you bought a goat from Ahab, instead of his rival Jeddah. Some rubes fell for this salesmanship and willingly emptied their purses for a favored animal.

As I was smiling at this blatant thievery, I spotted Jesus and, I think, John, his youngest disciple. They were also observing the action, but Jesus did not look happy.

Perhaps the turmoil, noise and stink got to him, but all of a sudden he strode up to the area where the animals were congregated. He had fashioned a sort of cat-o-nine-tails out of some cord and was thrashing it about menacingly, his eyes ablaze as he marched onward.

What is he doing? What has come over him? At the wedding feast he seemed meek and humble. But now I saw a different person entirely. There was a ferocity in his manner that made me shiver. He cracked his whip above his head and shouted "Get Out!"

The animals started running in all directions. They crashed through the doors of the Temple and ran free in the courtyard. They would not be sacrificed tonight.
Then he turned on the sellers of the beasts, the greedy purveyors of sacrificial meat. His whip cracked again. In sheer terror they turned tail and ran. He prodded them with his whip.

Then it was the moneychangers' turn. They were frozen in fear as he advanced. They fled, leaving their money on the counting tables. In fact, he flipped their tables over, all their drachmas, shekels, and denarii cascading to the floor, rolling around like little wheels. Children scooped them up.

Jesus shouted, "Get out! This isn't a marketplace!" And, then he added: "This is my Father's house!"

That last phrase shocked me. It's one thing to kick people and animals out of the temple, but it's quite something else to say that Yahweh is your father. Was Jesus really saying that? Is that what I heard?

As I was trying to make sense out of this, some priests ran up to Jesus and shouted "Just who do you think you are?" "Where do you get the authority to kick these people out and turn over their tables?" He had indeed made quite a mess.

Jesus was not intimidated. He told them that he could not only make a mess if he wanted to but he could knock down the whole Temple and then rebuild it in just three days. What was he talking about?

So it was not just his actions, bizarre as they were, that astonished me, but it was what he said after he finished causing mayhem, and what his words implied: That this was his father's house and therefore he was his son; and that he could destroy the Temple and build a new one in three days. Jesus was getting more and more mysterious by the minute.

I left the Temple with his words ringing in my ears. This was not the first time I heard him called the Son of God. Things were starting to make sense to me and I couldn't wait to learn more.

(This article is adapted from the book The Jesus Diary: An Anonymous Observer's Record of the Life and Accomplishments of Our Savior, by Dave Mishur, which is available on Amazon and other online retailers and can be ordered at any bookstore.)