An Invitation to Uncomplicated Obedience
When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!”
John 2:13-16
The collection of readings for today is deep and rich (Exodus 20:1-17, Psalm 19, 1 Corinthians 1:18-25, John 2:13-22). Who isn’t inspired by the image of Jesus turning the tables? He was infuriated by how approaching God had been complicated and commodified by exploitative opportunists. I have to remind myself that in the accounts of Jesus’ ministry, this was a one-off. I figure Jesus’ documented ministry was about three years, so whenever I have the inclination to cite this moment as a model for justice seeking or righteous anger, I ask myself ‘Is this my once in three years?’ Usually, this helps me stand down out of concern a greater injustice will arise.
But that time it was clear and simple. People wanted to come into God’s presence. Something was in the way. So Jesus removed what was in the way. The cross is a natural parallel.
This Lenten season I’ve recognized how tired I am of convoluted arguments: whether they are theological or political. I do appreciate complexity and texture in people’s life stories or in music or in food. Developing an appreciation for richness and depth is a sign of maturity. But academic gymnastics tend to be the sport of the proud, rather than the way of the cross. God’s ways are meant to be accessible to the foolish and the simple. So simple that the wise and intelligent feel the need to complicate it. A point Paul was keen to make to the Corinthians. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. (1 Cor 1:25)
My journey this lent has taken me towards introspection. I am pausing as much as possible from engaging in social commentary or news consumption. Instead, I’m walking that cleared path to God in order to be sifted; to be held accountable for my own actions and inactions. I’m resetting the bar to the high place it was meant to be, rather than to the lower standard I have justified through more complicated reasoning, which have truly just been excuses. A little surprisingly, I’m finding this an incredibly empowering process because while the world feels overwhelmingly out of control, I’m choosing afresh to control the only person Jesus ever tasked me with managing: myself. And as I yield to this refining, I’m declaring afresh the simple truth that God is Creator, Re-creator and Lord of all.
The desire to reclaim some of the simplicity of our faith led me back to our reading from Exodus, familiar even to young children it is so foundational. Fortunately, it is also one that is rarely disputed: the Ten Commandments. I’ve been mulling them over, inviting the Holy Spirit to convict me where necessary. Lent holds an important invitation to resensitize myself to my broken ways and faithless motivations. This is a journey to greater discomfort.
My creative interaction with these commands led me to ask what positive actions I might be invited to, not merely to avoid the pitfall of the particular sin, but to actively work against the mindsets that nurture such behaviour. So here are the Ten Commandments reframed as invitations to action.
Put God, above all else.
Worship the Creator, rather than your creations, and a thousand generations will be blessed.
Revere the Lord’s name.
Rest unto the Lord 1/7th of the time.
Honour the generations that came before you. Know the story of the place you inhabit.
Nurture life to flourish.
Remain faithful to your spouse. Make your family a place of security.
Give generously.
Speak honestly and well about your neighbour.
Celebrate the good things your neighbour has, and show gratitude for what you have yourself.
Simple principles, yet enough to define a lifetime of work. Turning down the volume on the rest of the world has reminded me not to neglect the work that I need to do on myself. It is uncomfortable. It also returns me to gratitude for all Jesus has done for me.
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