“Raised Temples”
Original sermon given March 3, 2024, written and delivered by Pastor Jeffrey Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“Raised Temples”
John 2.13-22
John 2.13-22
In the name of the Living God and the crucified Christ. Amen.
It’s Passover time in Jerusalem, about 30 AD. Thousands of Jewish pilgrims have travelled hundreds of miles from places like Galilee, or Syria, or even the far-flung reaches of the Roman empire. They come to offer sacrifice according to the Levitical law—and so the oxen, sheep, and pigeons required are conveniently penned right there in the outer courts of the temple precincts. Instead of dragging your ox all the way down from Galilee, you can buy what you need right there… for a premium price.
They come to pay the yearly temple tax—the half shekel required for every male over twenty years old. But here’s the catch: this religious tax had to paid in a specific coinage, which was conveniently offered to be exchanged right there, in the temple precincts… but at a premium price.
We all know how this works. It’s a little bit like the beer you buy at Wrigley on a hot summer’s day, the one that the vendor hands right to you—you’re going to pay a lot more for it than one from the twelve pack at the grocery store. Exchanging your money right at the airport or right after you get off the ship in a new port —you’re going to pay a higher rate, aren’t you? Hotels are more expensive the closer you get to the tourist attraction, right?
So on one level, this is nothing new—nor completely unexpected. So why is our Lord so angry here… and why should we be? Jesus rages here not against paying a premium price for convenience’s sake. But rather his righteous wrath is poured out against the manipulation of religion for selfish gain; the misuse of the things of God for one’s own purposes; the making of a house of prayer into a place for profit.
We all are equally outraged by this, aren’t we? Even the secular world has a particular disdain for religious charlatans. For example, for all the good that Christianity does for the world, and has done for centuries—the hospitals, orphanages, schools, foodbanks, women’s shelters—but what will the headlines be? The televangelist living in a mansion, the faith-healer preying upon the poorest Christians, the prophet who profits, the pastor or church-worker or church-leader who uses their position to have an affair, the abuse of children under the pretense of piety.
The world delights in pointing out this religious hypocrisy—and they’re right to do so. But we know what’s really at issue, what is the real problem. The misuse of the things of God for selfish, or self-serving gain is at its core a contradiction of the gospel itself. It is an affront to the sacrificial grace of God.
Our Lord Jesus, in love, gave of himself for the sins of the world. He prayed “not my will be done, but thine” (Luke 22.42). He came not to be served, but to serve, and to give himself as a ransom for many (Matthew 28.20). He went the road of the cross for the undeserving, for sinners, emptying himself in suffering and death.
And so those who are in Christ, who have his spirit within them through baptism, who have his body and blood flowing through them likewise give themselves in service to others. They become conduits of this self-giving grace. Thus, when we see the misuse of this grace for greed or gain or self-aggrandizement or lust or power or prestige, we are rightly outraged, as was the Lord. And when we sense it in ourselves; we rightly repent not just of hypocrisy, but of contradicting the gospel which has so freely been given to us.
The religious leaders of the day should have needed no sign from Jesus to prove his authority to purge the temple. Indeed, they should have been leading the purge themselves. But a sign indeed he gives, but one greater than they could understand.
Jesus said, destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days. That temple. The one that had taken so long build? The one built on top of a mountain? The one King Herod paid for? The one stretching 15 stories into the air? The one with individual stones weighing 160,000 pounds?
No, not that temple. An ever greater one. He was talking about his own body, which is the true dwelling place of God. The door to the divine. The gateway to grace. T he meeting place between God and man. The holy of holies, which we ourselves enter into this morning and partake in by his blood.
This temple, the body of Christ, would be destroyed on good Friday, but raised again on Easter Sunday. And now we are living stones of that same great edifice, stretching not just high above Jerusalem, but to the ends of the earth. Lasting not just 46 years but unto eternity; made not of stones and bricks, but of flesh and blood filled with his spirit.
As most of you know, our sister Dorthea Chaveriat died in the faith this past week. We’re thankful that she is in the arms of Jesus, now. But we are also thankful that she exemplified that life of service—of being a living stone of the great temple that Christ built. Hers was a life lived for others.
Christ’s Spirit dwells within us, and so may we also live lives of integrity and sacrifice in his name—vessels worthy of the grace given to us.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.