Jacked Up

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Have you decided yet? It’s been a week since I asked you to start considering. Palm Sunday is coming up in just 59 days. Tick-tock, Church. On April 10 this year, we commemorate the Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, kicking off what will be known as Holy Week 2022. Will you be a cloak-spreader or a palm-spreader? Right now is not too soon to decide.

     Last week I wrote to you about two different perceptions of Jesus’ identity among the crowds on the original Palm Sunday. Most of the people spread their cloaks on the road (Matthew 21:8), revealing a prophetic perception of who Jesus is – “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” (verse 9) – the King himself, coming in peace to initiate his kingdom on earth. But others spread tree branches in front of him, revealing a nationalistic view – “Hosanna to the Son of David!” (same verse) – the king himself, coming to consummate his kingdom, to kick the occupying Romans out of the Promised Land… along with anybody else who was causing them grief. In the intervening years, almost two thousand of them so far, have the percentages shifted any? And if so, in what direction? If Jesus gave us a chance to fully reenact the Triumphal Entry on April 10 of 2022, would “most” Christians spread their cloaks? How many “others” would there be? Gird your loins, Cobblestone, we must, at this juncture, take a hard honest look at how the various perceptions of Jesus’ identity affect the life of Christian faith in our time.

     As an indicator of future performance, past history is hard to beat. From the account of the Triumphal Entry, move ahead to the night of Jesus’ arrest and trial before the high priest (Matthew 26:47-75), which was in our Bible reading plan earlier this week…

     Now the chief priests and the whole council were seeking false testimony against Jesus that they might put him to death, but they found none, though many false witnesses came forward. At last two came forward and said, “This man said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to rebuild it in three days’” (verses 59-61).

     “At last.” Many came forward with hooey and half-truth. None of it matched. Even in the kangaroo court of Caiaphas, it wasn’t admissible. Finally, two “witnesses” were willing to collaborate on something the whole council could get jacked up about: the temple.

     You need to understand that the temple was the last big thing the Jews had going for them. Marginalized and politically diminished over the previous 400 years, they found themselves by Jesus’ time under the thumb of Rome, the most oppressive ruler since Nebuchadnezzar. The temple complex was the one place remaining where Jewish rule went mostly unchallenged – short of a riot, the Romans tended to not intervene. By extension, the temple rulers held sway over a fair amount of what happened in Jerusalem – culturally speaking, anyway. Making the best of a bad situation, you might say. But along with understanding what the temple meant to them, you also need to know why the temple was where it was, and what it was supposed to mean to all of God’s people.

     After the Babylonian exile, the Restoration Temple was built by Jews returning to Jerusalem. Its purpose was to restore worship in the holy city – “Thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. Go up to the hills and bring wood and build the house, that I may take pleasure in it and that I may be glorified, says the Lord” (Haggai 1:7-8). The altar was rebuilt and worship resumed in 516BC. The temple was a modest structure compared to the original, but it fulfilled the purpose. Other purposes became attached later on, though not so much to the Lord’s pleasure.

     King Herod “the Great” took hold of the project in his day. Though he moved lots of earth (if not heaven) to increase the size of the temple and its courts, their meaning was diminished. Like the Pharaohs building monuments to themselves on the backs of Hebrew slaves, Herod went about loading hardship after hardship on his own people. The ironic part: nobody stopped him. The bigger and more elaborate the temple complex became, the more national, cultural, and ethnic pride it evoked. While the Restoration temple was built to glorify God, Herod’s Temple was built to glorify the works of man.

     Jesus’ accusers were able to rally the troops around the idea that somebody was threatening to bust up their playhouse. The ruling Jews feared nothing more than losing their grip on what happened in their lives and culture – as tenuous and illusionary as that grip was – and did their best to confer the same fear on others. Anything but trust God. Anything but listen to the man standing right in front of them who, in the very next round of questioning, revealed he was the very Messiah they were supposed to be looking for, and said, “But I tell you, from now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven” (Matthew 26:64). Maybe they thought the timing wasn’t optimal.

     So how’s the timing now? One of the more widely published statistics related to Christianity says that about 65% of Americans claim to be Christians. (Stick with me a second: One of the really hot studies has the “nones” outnumbering evangelicals 26 to 24%. Let’s save that for another day. The 65% includes Americans who could be classified as “cultural Christians.”) But according to the same research by Barna, only 6% of Americans hold a biblical worldview. What? Less than one-tenth of claimed Christians believe what the Bible says, and would act on it. Apparently, it’s easy to click the Yes box next to “Christian?” Far more revealing are the responses to questions about what happens where the rubber meets the road.

     I regret whenever my first impulse is to think/say/do something other than what Scripture instructs. I regret whenever the only path I see in a given moment is to put my trust in the glorified works of man. How about you? Holding a biblical worldview takes Holy Spirit-empowered grip. And the question remains: Has there ever been a good time to not listen to Jesus?

    Jesus wasn’t impressed with Herod’s Temple, but his disciples were. Leaving out of Jerusalem on Tuesday afternoon of the original Holy Week, they pointed out the majesty of the place – like eighth-graders on a Washington, DC field trip. But he answered them, “You see all these, do you not? Truly, I say to you, there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down” (Matthew 24:2). The temple’s purpose had become so polluted there was no longer a reason for it to stand. Thirty-seven years later, it wasn’t… and hasn’t since.

     History cannot go in a way God has not ordained. Does that mean we hunker down and wait it out? Of course not. We are agents of history, under the rule of the rightful King, now and forever. Pray. Work. Repeat. At every opportunity, spread your cloak and serve him in humility. Engage the mind of Christ and work his will – the solutions that have been heretofore unimaginable. Please don’t throw down a palm branch and expect the King to validate your expectations on him. He’ll be busting up our playhouse, too, the structures and methods we’ve been lured into trusting – but it’s for his glory and our good.       

     And since Jesus is doing the busting, what’s to get jacked up about?          

 

 Grace and Peace (on the road to restoration),

 

John