Thieves, Children, and a House of Prayer - August 14, 2010
Jesus stood there.
Heart still pounding from the exertion, he mopped stinging sweat from His eyes.
A deep cleansing breath filled His lungs as the last of the moneychangers and sellers of sacrifices clambered from the courtyard.
The echos of their curses faded more quickly than their burning welts would - ones His makeshift whip had left on their stubborn backs and egos.
"It is written," The cry of this carpenter turned rabbi scorched the air of the temple, "'My house shall be called a house of prayer,' but you have made it a den of thieves!"
The sight that met Him as He turned, caused His eyes to drip unashamed compassion.
The blind and the lame,
the broken,
the helpless,
and the weak
were rapidly filling the void left by the departure of the powerful moneychangers and sacrifice sellers.
Awe and wonder radiated from their upturned faces now scattered amidst the chaos of overturned tables,
damaged cages,
fluttering doves,
lambs running free,
and scattered money.
Money that many, now discreetly, and some not so discreetly, slipped into empty pockets with furtive glances to the right and left.
Jesus looked at them, and knew exactly what to do.
He healed them.
Boldly and decisively.
Any who needed healing.
This was becoming an irrepressible joy-fest.
Children in unabashed abandonment danced and sang, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna to the Son of David!"
Their sing-song chant mixed exquisitely with the shouts of joy and laughter as the blind saw, the lame walked, the weak were made strong.
Jesus thought happily, Now, this is what a house of prayer should be like!
God, as a Man, having fun playing with His kids.
And those who stood beyond the crowd aloof and sinister?
It wasn't that He did not see them. . . These chief priests and scribes.
Sneering angrily.
Hissing to one another in hate drenched whispers.
Gathering the courage and numbers to confront Him.
Of course, He saw them.
They were, indeed, quite practiced at being seen.
Finally, propriety and piety demanded that they push their way toward Him.
He simply chose to ignore them, at least on the outside.
How indignant they are. He thought sadly, They are always so very indignant when Father is so very happy.
Their angry, staccato speech cracked over the crowd, "Do you hear what these are saying?"
Accusation scraped like a sword being drawn from it's scabbard.
For a long moment, Jesus waited.
Un-rushed and wistful, He mused, The sound of celebrating children, and grateful hearts is heavenly - so clean and pure. Oh, how sweet It is to be reminded of home.
Then with a sigh, His eyes lifted.
He locked the leader with His gaze, and willed a blazing ray of love to shine into the dark, icy soul.
As the priest reeled at this unexpected response, Jesus spoke - His voice resonant and clear. They had asked him if He had heard. . .
"Yes."
One word.
A hush answered His response.
Another long moment weighed ominously.
Then with an unexpected smile that lit up the courtyard, He motioned, upturned hands pointing to all the people, and. . .
He laughed.
A hearty, genuine, belly laugh made of God's pleasure, hope unleashed, and promises kept.
Laughter that in ages past - happier times - had echoed throughout heaven's temple and now in faith saturated it's coarse copy here on earth.
Pulling a wide-eyed child close, He effortlessly continued,"Have you not read. . ."
Anticipation ruled.
People scarcely breathed.
"'Out of the mouths of babes and nursing infants You have perfected Praise'?"
Then He left them. . .
Turned on His heal and strode out of the courtyard and into the busy street.
Nodding reflectively to Himself, He whispered His paraphrase of the sacred psalm again, "Out of the mouths of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise. Yes, Father, I have seen it Myself again and again, and this day especially. Thank You that through these little ones You even ordained strength, because of Your enemies."
How he loved David's psalms.
His step lighter, and His gaze heavenward, He made His way to Bethany.
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Psalm 8:2 exalts,
Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have ordained strength, Because of Your enemies, That You may silence the enemy and the avenger.
Jesus put an interesting twist on this Scripture from the Psalms.
In response to the angry chief priests and scribes, He challenged them with a paraphrase that has always caught my attention.
King David had written,
Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have ordained strength
Jesus boldly declared,
Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise
Jesus, the Living Word of God, replaced the words "ordained strength" with "perfected praise".
He declared this even as the echos of the children's praises resonated in the temple courtyard's air and the chief priests' burning ears.
"Hosanna to the Son of David!"
"Hosanna to the Son of David!"
Over and over again.
Jubilently, they had sung the recognition of His Messiahship.
Children did this in the faces of the very ones who plotted the murder of the One praised.
Children did this in the faces of the very ones who swore to avenge Jesus' attacks against their hypocrisies and abuses of power.
Children did this in the faces of the very ones who had made themselves enemies of God.
As these children - these babes - did this...
God's enemies - these evil avengers - were SILENCED.
Then Jesus left them seething and speechless!
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Lord, may our praises be perfected as we joyfully celebrate who You are.
May we abandon ourselves to loving You like innocent, trusting children.
As we do this in simplicity of heart, Lord, do what only You can do, and "ordain strength".
Take our praises and transform them into offensive weapons against Your enemies.
Silence the proud tongues of Your enemies with our child like praises.
We are a people who - old and young alike - know that before You, Ancient of Days, we are but babes and nursing infants.
We cast ourselves in absolute dependance upon You and rejoice in our helpless estate.
Indeed, we praise You!
Amen.
