The Cleansing of the Temple

“When He had made a scourge of small cords, He drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew the tables; and said, Make not my Father’s house an house of merchandise.” — John ii. 15, 16.

We all begin by making the house of God a house of merchandise. When people begin to think seriously, religion first presents itself as a present penance for the sake of future gain. A man says: “I am told pious people get on in the world; God blesses them in their basket and in their store. True, church is very dull; but church means a blessing in life. If I serve God, God will smile on me. If I seek Him on Sunday, He will not forget me in the struggle for bread on Monday.” That is what Christ calls buying and selling in the temple of God. You offer the Almighty a sight of your grave face on the chance that He will pay you back by a gift of sumptuous living. For a time the Lord suffers this. He lets you for a space bring your merchandise into the temple, for it is better to come to the temple with your merchandise than not to come at all. But by-and-by He feels that the time for expulsion has arrived. He takes a scourge of small cords and drives out the sheep and oxen. What is that scourge? It is a form of experience. What is it that drives out the mercantile view of religion? It is just the discovery that the good are not physically rewarded. Nothing drives out the merchandise from the temple like the experience of Job. We see him leading a good life; yet we see the sheep and oxen taken from him just as they are taken from bad people. It is meant to show him, it is meant to show us, that religion is not a mercantile transaction, that the rewards of God are not sheep and oxen. To every growing spirit the voice of Christ is this: ‘’ Make not My Father’s house a house of merchandise!”

Lord, I understand Thy dealings in the great Temple. Often have I wondered why the white robes of fortune were not reserved for the whitest souls. I do not wonder now. I understand why it is written of Thy coming glory, Of that day and that hour knoweth no man.” If we did know, we should crowd Thy temple as we crowd the market-place — for gain. We should go up to Thy house in multitudes, we should jostle one another to get first in; there would be a struggle for the

survival of the fittest. But the fittest would be the most selfish; it would be a struggle for the glory of the flesh; ve should seek, not the prodigal’s penitence, but the prodigal’s ring. Therefore it is that in the far country Thou revealest not the ring. Thou hidest the music and the dancing that await us in Thy house. Thou comest to meet us without the costly robe, with only the song of welcome. Often with a scourge of small cords Thou drivest the sheep and oxen from our temple. Often in the very front of our altar Thou overturnest the table of our gains. Men say, “If He loved them, would He overturn their table?” It is because of Thy love, O Lord! Thou preparest for me a table in the wilderness, lest I should seek Thee, not for love, but for gold. Thou makest me sit down in the presence of mine enemies, lest I should come to Thee for the winning of earthly friends. Thou leadest me through the valley of the shadow of death, lest I should be comforted by any rod and staff but Thine. Cleanse from merchandise the temple of my soul!