WMJM - Third Sunday of Lent
John 2:13-22 - I don’t know how many of you wore one, but for a while there was a very popular bracelet that read WWJD. The letters stand for a very good question for almost any imaginable circumstance: “what would Jesus do?” It’s a serious question. In fact it’s the central question of lent, and for that matter a question that gets at the heart of the Christian life. … and when asked in sincerity and in intellectual honesty produces some surprising answers.
For example, if I were to ask what would Jesus do if he encountered an active temple with people selling offerings in the outer court… if you hadn’t read today’s gospel you might answer: “he’d ask them politely to leave… like an usher asking a rude man to put out his cigarette at a funeral.” Or you might say: “he’d stand up and preach against the sinners of the temple.” Or you might say: “he would ask them all to dinner, like he did Zacheus.”
But we know, for we’ve read the gospel lesson, that our intuition about what Jesus would do is wrong. He didn’t invite, or preach, or ask. He cast. Casting is what you do with fishing line or actors. When you cast people out… it’s generally not pretty.
So, let me propose another bracelet; one with these initials: WMJM. “What makes Jesus mad?!” Today let’s look at Jesus’ anger, which teaches us that Jesus has extraordinary love and teaches us what he loves.
This might be just as good a question to ask as WWJD. Why? Because when you understand what makes a person angry, you go a good distance towards understanding what makes them tick. Or better put: you begin to know a bit about their character. Anger – or what we do with our anger – is like a giant movie screen projecting our souls to the world. Those of us who like our privacy do a good job masking our anger, because we know what it shows. We know that shows what we love, for anger is the other side of love. You don’t get angry about that which you don’t care.
And so, if you get angry at silly things, you have disordered love, you have misplaced priorities. And if you erupt often at silly things, then your character risks seeming… shallow. You see this in movies often. If the filmmaker wants to portray someone as shallow and silly, then he or she presents a scene in which the character gets unjustifiably mad.
One of my favorite scenes in this regard is an elevator scene in “You’ve Got Mail.” Tom Hank’s significant other goes nuts when stuck in an elevator – screaming uselessly at a repairman on the phone – and Hanks, at that moment, realizes this woman is not for him. And he winds up with lovely Meg Ryan and the two live happily ever after. And this feels right, for Meg only gets angry for good reasons.
Today’s story, which all 4 of the gospel writers include, has Jesus getting angry. And not just red in the ears angry, but violently angry. Not so angry that he commits violence against a person, but angry enough to take a cord and use it on tables, chairs and angry enough to cast people out of church. He clearly looses his cool, pops his top, blows his steam, spews some venom, expresses his inner feelings in the most explicit of fashions. Mark puts this after the cursing of the fig tree. John at the beginning of his gospel.
What do we do with this? What do we do with this – we who like our Jesus with a serene smile, long flowing blond hair, we who can hardly imagine our Jesus speaking over a whisper, we who really enjoy the baby Jesus of Dec. 25, but squirm a bit with the Jesus of the glorious resurrection?
My answer: let this story, flesh out an inadequate image of Jesus. For what Jesus really is, what he truly was, is what we must seek to be. And what a waste spending our lives trying to be something we aren’t called to be.
So, let me point out a couple of things about Jesus’ anger:
1) It demonstrated his extraordinary love.
This is something I’ve always tried to communicate in marital counseling and in church relations. People only get mad at those they care something about. The opposite of love is apathy, not anger. If I get angry at you, it means that I still care enough to work up the emotional energy. I don’t worry about a couple that fight – I worry when there’s absolutely no fight, when the fires of angers have become the dead embers of apathy.
It is fascinating that in John’s gospel there are only about 3 places where we really see Jesus as an emotional human being. John is busy most of the time trying to help us see how divine Jesus was. We have the word made flesh, the turning water into wine, the other signs and miracles, not often do we see (as we sometimes do in the other gospels) the human side of Jesus. Except here, at the death of Lazareth his friend, and upon the cross. John’s portrait shows Jesus overwhelmed, quite human, at the point of his own death, at the death of his dear friend, and when seeing the temple turned into a travesty. John means to show us, at the outset, what matters to Jesus: people being used! Robbers in God’s house!
I can’t help but think that one of our problems with this text is how we feel about our own anger. We aren’t proud of what we get angry about because it highlights our silly peeves, our petty priorities, our little loves that linger in spite of our knowing better. Because of this most of us see anger as an exit out of rationality, when it can be an entry into appropriate action. When our loves are well ordered, anger becomes righteous indignation. But that’s a tall “when.”
I tried to think about recent incidents of anger. It’s a telling list. Things like a slow incompetent store clerk, a person who cut in line, the driver who had the audacity to drive like I do… I’d like to tell you about my anger at things that matter – global warming, racism, poverty, etc. But there’s not enough to tell. The things that get my dander up – are things that generally affect me. I’m not proud of that.
There is one major exception and that’s what I’ve learned is my area of holy discomfort – one that God uses my anger to not as an exit out of rationality but was an entry into appropriate action. That’s in the area of willful ignorance in the name of Christ. It angers me to hear some say we must ignore facts, play dumb, act ignorant, rather than look again at scripture and see how it can be enlightened by our understanding of the universe. Part of my life, will always be dedicated to teaching – helping people understand that a true life of faith engages the head as well as the heart… that you don’t need to check your brain at the church door. My anger at those who use ignorance as a tool to manipulate others, spurs me to action. If your God isn’t the God who created the 12 Billion year old universe, your God is too small!
What gets your goat? What blows your top – which isn’t related to your self interest?
Jesus’ anger demonstrated his love, and…
2) As such, his anger demonstrated a love for God and others
Mark’s gospel makes it pretty clear what he was angry about. This not just about commerce taking place, it’s about people being cheated. It’s about a system where the poor were exploited by the system. They were told that God honored sacrifices, that the better offering would merit them better blessings – in fact it’s not so far from the system of the televangelists who promise God’s blessings in proportion to the amount of check you send them! “Den of robbers” on TV.
The point: Jesus was angry because people were being hurt, and it was being done in the name of God right in the heart of the temple. And in effect Jesus says: “I’m replacing this system. No longer are you to be subject to the tit for tat system of sacrifices.”
It is worth noting that when the soldiers came, when the whips stung his back, when he was the subject of derision – anger was not to be found. But anger at this horrible situation in the temple, where the poor were being oppressed by wicked men who were using God as a great marketing tool, was inconsolable.
If we didn’t know this story, would we know exactly what Jesus would do? No, never exactly. This points out a concern with the WWJD or WMJM questions. The point of being transformed into the image of Christ is not to be a robot mindlessly, soullessly, going through the actions. We who follow Christ want to reflect the presence of Christ in ways that are authentic to us. God did not make us to remake us as some roboJesus, but he made us reflect his glory. This glory is often marred by our sin, but it shines in the uniqueness of God’s amazing creativity in making us all as we are.
The question that I want to leave with you: WMMM – what makes me mad? This question can point out petty priorities and it can remind us that we are called to follow the steps of one who was in all ways like us. Let us follow Christ into the kind of love that makes us angry at the evil which hinders it.
For example, if I were to ask what would Jesus do if he encountered an active temple with people selling offerings in the outer court… if you hadn’t read today’s gospel you might answer: “he’d ask them politely to leave… like an usher asking a rude man to put out his cigarette at a funeral.” Or you might say: “he’d stand up and preach against the sinners of the temple.” Or you might say: “he would ask them all to dinner, like he did Zacheus.”
But we know, for we’ve read the gospel lesson, that our intuition about what Jesus would do is wrong. He didn’t invite, or preach, or ask. He cast. Casting is what you do with fishing line or actors. When you cast people out… it’s generally not pretty.
So, let me propose another bracelet; one with these initials: WMJM. “What makes Jesus mad?!” Today let’s look at Jesus’ anger, which teaches us that Jesus has extraordinary love and teaches us what he loves.
This might be just as good a question to ask as WWJD. Why? Because when you understand what makes a person angry, you go a good distance towards understanding what makes them tick. Or better put: you begin to know a bit about their character. Anger – or what we do with our anger – is like a giant movie screen projecting our souls to the world. Those of us who like our privacy do a good job masking our anger, because we know what it shows. We know that shows what we love, for anger is the other side of love. You don’t get angry about that which you don’t care.
And so, if you get angry at silly things, you have disordered love, you have misplaced priorities. And if you erupt often at silly things, then your character risks seeming… shallow. You see this in movies often. If the filmmaker wants to portray someone as shallow and silly, then he or she presents a scene in which the character gets unjustifiably mad.
One of my favorite scenes in this regard is an elevator scene in “You’ve Got Mail.” Tom Hank’s significant other goes nuts when stuck in an elevator – screaming uselessly at a repairman on the phone – and Hanks, at that moment, realizes this woman is not for him. And he winds up with lovely Meg Ryan and the two live happily ever after. And this feels right, for Meg only gets angry for good reasons.
Today’s story, which all 4 of the gospel writers include, has Jesus getting angry. And not just red in the ears angry, but violently angry. Not so angry that he commits violence against a person, but angry enough to take a cord and use it on tables, chairs and angry enough to cast people out of church. He clearly looses his cool, pops his top, blows his steam, spews some venom, expresses his inner feelings in the most explicit of fashions. Mark puts this after the cursing of the fig tree. John at the beginning of his gospel.
What do we do with this? What do we do with this – we who like our Jesus with a serene smile, long flowing blond hair, we who can hardly imagine our Jesus speaking over a whisper, we who really enjoy the baby Jesus of Dec. 25, but squirm a bit with the Jesus of the glorious resurrection?
My answer: let this story, flesh out an inadequate image of Jesus. For what Jesus really is, what he truly was, is what we must seek to be. And what a waste spending our lives trying to be something we aren’t called to be.
So, let me point out a couple of things about Jesus’ anger:
1) It demonstrated his extraordinary love.
This is something I’ve always tried to communicate in marital counseling and in church relations. People only get mad at those they care something about. The opposite of love is apathy, not anger. If I get angry at you, it means that I still care enough to work up the emotional energy. I don’t worry about a couple that fight – I worry when there’s absolutely no fight, when the fires of angers have become the dead embers of apathy.
It is fascinating that in John’s gospel there are only about 3 places where we really see Jesus as an emotional human being. John is busy most of the time trying to help us see how divine Jesus was. We have the word made flesh, the turning water into wine, the other signs and miracles, not often do we see (as we sometimes do in the other gospels) the human side of Jesus. Except here, at the death of Lazareth his friend, and upon the cross. John’s portrait shows Jesus overwhelmed, quite human, at the point of his own death, at the death of his dear friend, and when seeing the temple turned into a travesty. John means to show us, at the outset, what matters to Jesus: people being used! Robbers in God’s house!
I can’t help but think that one of our problems with this text is how we feel about our own anger. We aren’t proud of what we get angry about because it highlights our silly peeves, our petty priorities, our little loves that linger in spite of our knowing better. Because of this most of us see anger as an exit out of rationality, when it can be an entry into appropriate action. When our loves are well ordered, anger becomes righteous indignation. But that’s a tall “when.”
I tried to think about recent incidents of anger. It’s a telling list. Things like a slow incompetent store clerk, a person who cut in line, the driver who had the audacity to drive like I do… I’d like to tell you about my anger at things that matter – global warming, racism, poverty, etc. But there’s not enough to tell. The things that get my dander up – are things that generally affect me. I’m not proud of that.
There is one major exception and that’s what I’ve learned is my area of holy discomfort – one that God uses my anger to not as an exit out of rationality but was an entry into appropriate action. That’s in the area of willful ignorance in the name of Christ. It angers me to hear some say we must ignore facts, play dumb, act ignorant, rather than look again at scripture and see how it can be enlightened by our understanding of the universe. Part of my life, will always be dedicated to teaching – helping people understand that a true life of faith engages the head as well as the heart… that you don’t need to check your brain at the church door. My anger at those who use ignorance as a tool to manipulate others, spurs me to action. If your God isn’t the God who created the 12 Billion year old universe, your God is too small!
What gets your goat? What blows your top – which isn’t related to your self interest?
Jesus’ anger demonstrated his love, and…
2) As such, his anger demonstrated a love for God and others
Mark’s gospel makes it pretty clear what he was angry about. This not just about commerce taking place, it’s about people being cheated. It’s about a system where the poor were exploited by the system. They were told that God honored sacrifices, that the better offering would merit them better blessings – in fact it’s not so far from the system of the televangelists who promise God’s blessings in proportion to the amount of check you send them! “Den of robbers” on TV.
The point: Jesus was angry because people were being hurt, and it was being done in the name of God right in the heart of the temple. And in effect Jesus says: “I’m replacing this system. No longer are you to be subject to the tit for tat system of sacrifices.”
It is worth noting that when the soldiers came, when the whips stung his back, when he was the subject of derision – anger was not to be found. But anger at this horrible situation in the temple, where the poor were being oppressed by wicked men who were using God as a great marketing tool, was inconsolable.
If we didn’t know this story, would we know exactly what Jesus would do? No, never exactly. This points out a concern with the WWJD or WMJM questions. The point of being transformed into the image of Christ is not to be a robot mindlessly, soullessly, going through the actions. We who follow Christ want to reflect the presence of Christ in ways that are authentic to us. God did not make us to remake us as some roboJesus, but he made us reflect his glory. This glory is often marred by our sin, but it shines in the uniqueness of God’s amazing creativity in making us all as we are.
The question that I want to leave with you: WMMM – what makes me mad? This question can point out petty priorities and it can remind us that we are called to follow the steps of one who was in all ways like us. Let us follow Christ into the kind of love that makes us angry at the evil which hinders it.
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