Steve Lindsley
Matthew 21: 12-17 (Selected Verses)
Siblings in Christ, I have a question for you this morning: what offends you? What are things that happen to you, with you, at you, or around you that cause you to become outraged, incensed, aggrieved? What offends you?
The two-lane road in front of you is narrowing into one. Construction ahead. You and everyone else are in the one open lane, creeping along, because you and everyone else understand that this is what you do in this situation. Everyone, that is, except for a handful of folks who apparently feel this unspoken rule and common courtesy does not apply to them. So they remain in the far lane, zipping by you and everyone else, until the orange cones give them nowhere to go and they frantically squeeze their cars into whatever tiny gaps they can find.
Does that offend you?
You have had your doctorate for years. You worked hard for your doctorate. You are proud of your doctorate. And while truthfully you could care less about titles, it is hard to ignore the fact that many people in the field call you by your first name, or “Mrs.,” while at the same time referring to your male colleagues with the same degree and in some cases less experience as “Doctor.”
Is that something that offends you?
You’re used to being the only person of color in the room, whether that room is the board room, the grocery store, the local Y, or the church. You’ve been used to this most of your life. And while you’re thankful that, by and large, it’s rare that someone says something offensive or outright racist, what does happen is that no one says anything at all. They don’t even seem to see you, their eyes instinctively wandering until they land on someone who looks more like them. They don’t mean to do it. They’re probably not even aware they’re doing it. But you are aware, and it does not feel good being invisible.
Beloved, what is it that offends you?
Our scripture this morning recounts a time when Jesus was offended. Outraged, incensed, aggrieved, offended. We’re not used to seeing Jesus like this, are we? We rarely encounter times of Jesus showing a temper, much less losing his cool. But he does here. He loses it.
It is the week of Passover, the holiest week of the year for the Jewish people. Jews from all over Israel traveled for days, even weeks, to come to Jerusalem and worship in the great temple there. Hundreds of thousands of people. They would come to the temple to make their sacrifice to God as their faith compelled them to. And it was there, just outside the temple, where moneychangers would sell quail to worshippers for sacrifice.
Jesus enters the temple that day; he surveys this scene and is deeply offended by what he sees there. And he loses it. He grabs the tables that the moneychangers were working on and flips them over. Money flying everywhere. Quail shaken out of cages and flying away. Chaos, confusion, disarray, disorder. All because Jesus was so offended.
And I want to be clear about what it was that offended him so deeply. Because in these days that we’re living in, when a lot of people get offended so easily about a lot of things, it’s important to ask ourselves whether the things that offend us are really worth being offended about. And so when it comes to Jesus flipping tables in the temple, over the years we’ve assumed that what upset Jesus was the fact that people were selling things – selling quail for those who had traveled to Jerusalem for Passover so they could make their sacrifice at the temple.
And over the years, because of this, many churches have taken to prohibiting the selling of anything in church, particularly in or around the sanctuary, even writing it into church bylaws. We’ve done this because we’ve told ourselves that Jesus was offended at people selling things at the temple.
Which he was not.
The truth is, there had always been selling at the temple during Passover. Every one of his 33 years on earth, as far back as he could remember, Jesus had seen the moneychangers there. It was not only ordinary, but it was necessary. As mentioned before, Jews had to travel long distances to come to Jerusalem, and carrying something all that way to offer as a sacrifice was a huge inconvenience, and for some, not possible. Those moneychangers selling quail to worshippers were actually providing a much-needed service. Nothing about that was offensive to Jesus.
What was offensive was the outrageous price-gouging that was taking place on this day – moneychangers charging far more than they should have for those quail, far more than their actual value, simply because they could. For some, paying that much was a mere nuisance. But for those who were poor, it was crippling, forcing them to spend nearly all of their wages just so they could make a sacrifice to God.
That is what offended Jesus – the wealthy preying on the poor for profit and personal gain. That is what led him to flip tables. Because they were taking advantage of the weakest among them. Because it was horribly unjust. And if there’s anything that earns the outrage of Jesus, time and time again, it is injustice. As it should be for us.
Beloved, maybe the thing we ought to be thinking about this morning as people of faith and followers of Jesus is not the things that tend to offend us – because that could be just about anything – but rather, the things that should offend us. The two are rarely the same, are they?
I missed the opening ceremonies for the Olympics a little over a week ago, but I heard all about it. A particular part of it. We all did, I think. A brief moment where the camera settled on thirteen or so men in drag posed at a long white table. We all heard about it because soon after, social media did what it does so well and gave voice to those who were outraged at this perceived parody of Da Vinci’s “Last Supper” painting, supposedly mocking Christians everywhere.
To be clear, it was actually not a depiction of the Last Supper, but rather a festival of the Greek god Dionysus, the god of wine. Because Olympics/Greek and France/wine. But that still did not stop the masses – American Christians, specifically – from taking great offense at this.
Because here’s the thing: when people of power and privilege learn to live in a constant state of feeling as if they have been wronged, as many are conditioned to do these days, they do not want to let go of their offense, even after learning that the assumptions they made that led to their offense are incorrect. It is far easier, friends, far easier to live in the echo chambers of our outrage, than engage in the act of listening and learning and admitting when we don’t have all the answers or when we are wrong.
And I think that’s what concerns me most about where we are and where we are heading as a society these days. It’s not just that we are divided and polarized, it’s that we seem to care so little that we are. It’s not just that we believe what we believe, it’s that we show little interest in learning what others believe. It’s not just that we fail to listen, really listen, to what others have to say, what they value, what they cherish; it’s that we’ve convinced ourselves that even doing that would lessen us in some way.
We are so easily offended these days. And friends, I cannot help but wonder if we, as children of the living God, would be wise to keep ourselves in check when it comes to what we choose to allow ourselves to be offended about. Thinking long and hard not about what offends us but what should offend us.
Is it a few seconds of an artistic depiction of an historical narrative taking place in a secular setting on the other side of the world? Is it companies that say “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas?” Is it birthday parties and other events scheduled on Sunday mornings when they didn’t used to be? Is it anytime we feel that the wider culture is somehow infringing on our Christian sensibilities, losing our societal privilege that we feel for some reason we are entitled to?
Or is it the fact that people with names like Breonna Taylor, Atatianna Jefferson, Botham Jean, Sonya Massey and countless others are being gunned down in their own homes by law enforcement for doing nothing more than simply being people of color and being in their own homes – should we not be offended by that? Is it the way that some in this country are fully embracing Christian Nationalism, a twisted perversion of our faith that is antithetical to everything Jesus lived and died for – should we not be offended by that? Is it that more and more people – people we know, people we work with, people we worship with – are being priced out of their homes and having to move far away simply so they can have a roof over their heads – should we not be offended by that? Is it people in positions of power who use that power to minimize, denigrate and villainize those who are not like them, perpetuating a culture of fear for their own selfish gain – should we not be offended by that?
I cannot help but think that these are precisely the kinds of things that Jesus flipped tables for – and also, somewhat ironically, the things that Jesus set tables for. Tables like this one, set for communion on this Communion Sunday. A holy meal, prepared for all. Truth be told, even though that table at the Olympics was not a communion table, does it not bear a slight resemblance? A table where all are welcome – those in Jesus’ time who were less than, looking in from the outside, marginalized, maligned, powerless, forgotten. Those in our times who are the same. Jesus himself set this table for them – should we not strive to do the same?
Beloved, let it never be lost on us what Jesus does with the tables among us: he flips them when they are tables of injustice and exclusion and judgment, and he sets them when they are tables of celebration and inclusion and grace. Sometimes it’s easy to confuse which is which in this topsy-turvy world of ours Sometimes it is hard, discerning between the things that offend us and the things that should offend us. By the grace of God, may we never cease in our walk of faith to try and know the difference.
In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, thanks be to God – and may all of God’s people say, AMEN!
* Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation, the written accounts occasionally stray from proper grammar and punctuation.