Holy Week, episode 2, Spring cleaning . . .

So like I said yesterday, Jesus the Messiah rode stately into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey which had been reserved for a couple hundred years. But the Grand Marshall of this parade was not here for the palm frond ticker tape parade.  Some of my United Methodist pastor friends are anxiously awaiting appointments, or not, to new churches,  new lives, within a few days.  Perhaps they can appreciate more than most  the chaos and upheaval of Jesus' final week in His current appointment.  Perhaps they understand how it feels to look at the congregation you were sent to serve, to teach, to lead, and wonder what went wrong, why they didn't get it. Perhaps they weep over the place they are leaving behind, even as they are honored at a covered dish supper.  But not for long. There is too much to do to prepare for the future.

And so it was for Jesus.  There was so much to do. So little time.  But the time had come.

Jesus' and my mother's  first step in preparation for Easter Sunday were the same.  The first priority is to clean house.

Jesus  went directly to the Temple, the Holy place where the Jewish people gathered to worship God, a tradition and command born of centuries of Jewish history with God.  In the courtyard of this Holy place there were vendors' booths set up.  The vendors were selling doves or whatever animal was appropriate for sacrifice, to those who had none.  The mark up on the prices for the offerings would have made Pay Day Loans or Cash Advance proud.  Poor folks and travelers, who had no animals, seemed to have little choice. God required a sacrifice after all.  It was a sellers' market.   Obscene profits were being made in the name of God.  But there was no profit for God.

It was a dirty business.

And the House had to be cleaned before Easter.

So Jesus began to scrub.  And he got angry. (Another thing he and my mother have in common when cleaning up the mess created by others right before a holiday). His house of prayer had become a robber's den.   Jesus turned over the tables of the profiteers in the Holy Courtyard and ran them out with a rope whip.

Sometimes you have to make a mess before you can get things clean.

Don't get me wrong.  My mother is a dear, sweet woman.  But  her house needed to be clean.  And sometimes, if those who had made the mess were slow to help in correcting the situation, perhaps continuing to watch TV while eating chips and spilling Coke on the floor while she attempted to clean around that person, or persons, she might lose her temper.  She might even start pushing people out of the room with a broom.

It seemed unlike her. Out of character.

But, she got our attention.

And that's how this week was suddenly different.

Jesus' got their attention.  All of Jerusalem's attention.  Our attention.

And that was just the beginning.

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