Return To The Jerusalem Temple Series

Third Sunday in Lent 2024

This week marks the middle-point of our Lenten pilgrimage! We have been with Jesus in the desert, as He was tempted, and we were with Him last week on the Mount of Transfiguration, as He prepared Himself and His most trusted disciples for the passion by having a Passover discussion with Moses and Elijah. Today we return to the Jerusalem Temple to find Christ forcefully driving merchants and livestock out of the Court of the Gentiles. That sacred space was supposed to be reserved for attracting the nations to right worship of the True God. But even after the “cleansing” of God’s house in this manner, Jesus did not then become one of the Jerusalem elite. He continued to preach repentance, even to the Pharisees and Temple priests who thought themselves above all that. Jesus, second Person of the Trinity, knew from Israelite history just what selfishness, pride, lusts and laziness was in fallen humans. He did not trust His person and mission to them. First He had to suffer, die and rise again so that His Holy Spirit could then change human hearts to be like His Sacred Heart.

Allowing Himself to be arrested, tried in a kangaroo court, hauled off to Pilate and then sentenced to death on the testimony of liars, that was Jesus’s destiny. It was “folly” to the Gentiles, and to many of His disciples, to permit that horrible denigration and torture. But it was the wise plan of God. Satan is a bully, and all bullies count on superior strength to defeat goodness. That was the devil’s mistake, to misinterpret the acquiescence of Christ in His passion. “The weakness of God is stronger than any human strength.” It brought about the only really big change in humans since the creation: it enabled us to become adopted children of God, heirs to all His gifts.

One of the most precious gifts Christ has given us is the freedom to worship God in spirit and in truth, despite our tendency to sin. That kind of worship involves words, actions and signs. During Lent, let’s give some thought to our signs of repentance. Sure, the confiteor used at the beginning of many Masses is a collection of repentance words, but there is a sign connected with it that links the general “I’m sorry” to our personal sin. It’s been a common sign among Christians from early times. As we say “through my fault. . .my most grievous fault” we are told to strike our breasts three times. Try this and feel the humility being nailed to your heart. Emphasize the three “my” words, and hit your chest with those “my” words. We are all–every one of us– sinners, and we profit by signing that self-realization. Catholic Christians, as well at the Lamb of God, which celebrates Christ dying for our sins, make a less pronounced thump on the chest with each petition. It’s a great way to prepare for communion.

The first reading today lists the Ten Commandments for us, and should emphasize for us the place of our families in commandments 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8 (and even 9 and 10). “Honor your father and mother” is obvious as a family support. But especially today, “You shall not murder” is particularly appropriate since so many children are being hurt and killed by their parents either before or after birth. The sixth commandment reminds us that our sexual faculties may only be used by a man and woman joined in matrimony. And seven and eight protect families from the loss of trust engendered by lying, and of security caused by theft. Parents, teach your children well their meaning and importance, and fulfill the promise you made to God when you were married to bring up offspring for His kingdom. I hear that nearly half of couples in the US get married and are determined not to have children. That makes a marriage invalid in the eyes of the Church. It shuts off much of the grace of married life from a man and woman. We must pray for families, and for a Spirit-filled invigoration of Christian marriages everywhere, if we are to bring back Western culture to Christ, and rebuild our shattered civilization on the only strong foundation.