The Essence of Being in Church
Our topic for this week’s prayer group, the story of Jesus and the cleansing of the temple (Matthew 21:12-17, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew%2021%3A12-17&version=NIV), made think of the essence of being in church. As I prayed over the story, I found myself as one of Jesus’ disciples in the Jesuit style of prayer.
It was mid-afternoon and we came into the temple. We had just come from the region of Judea and were making our way to Jerusalem. We crossed the entrance to the outer temple, and I could feel the busyness of the temple with Jews and non-Jews. Money changers were present to change others’ currency (Roman or other foreign land) into Tyrian Shekels so people could pay their taxes or buy a sacrificial animal. It was loud from people talking and negotiating, goats bleating, children laughing and running around. It was before Passover and Jerusalem was busy.
Looking at Jesus, I could see the anguish and disappointment in his facial expression. I remember when he was 12 years old, and he felt called to be in the temple. The occasion was also during Passover, and he had traveled with Joseph and Mary, relatives and friends (Luke 2:41-52, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke%202%3A41-52&version=NIV) God the Father had called him and wanted Jesus to be with Him. It was an act of wanting to be one with the Holy Spirit. It seemed like a natural thing to do for Jesus, experiencing peace and love as the Trinity came together. And as Jesus listened to the elders and gave answers to some of their questions, “Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.” (Luke 2:47). To Joseph and Mary’s expression of concern of why he was missing, Jesus answered, “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49).
I remember when I felt a strong pull to go to church. Coincidentally, I was 12 years old, and my family had stopped going to church on a regular basis. I had felt a good connection with God after my first communion and prayed before bed every so often. There were kids in class who had started going to a school prayer group and had invited me to go, but I did not want to share with them my relationship with God. I felt like I was still trying to figure things out myself and felt private and protective of this. Then at Christmas time when I had turned 12, a friend from my neighborhood mentioned to me what a great experience he had had going to church by himself. He encouraged me to go, and so I did, by myself.
In church, I found I could talk quietly to God without interruption. Everybody was quiet in church, and I could just contemplate the crucifix, the statues of Mary, Joseph, St. Peter and St. Paul. I felt like I belonged, I felt God embracing me. This loving call from God became the juice my heart needed for me to start going to church every Sunday evening. Soon, I found friends from the same block joining me to church. It became a time of respect and introspection, a time away from all our running around playing soccer, tag, and just being goofy.
I could understand Jesus’ pain as he scanned the whole outer temple area while contrasting this vision with his experience as a 12-year-old.
The people and merchants doing business there felt like they were doing the right thing. A fair number of them, you could say, were “middlemen” trying to “help” people who wanted to be in the temple area to celebrate the Passover. Some of the Jews had come from afar, not bringing any animals with them to make the journey easier but had money to purchase lambs, oxen or pigeons there at the temple. Some of these businessmen were possibly not honest people either, using the occasion for ways to make more money.
Jesus proceeded to make a whip while feeling disappointment, frustration, and anger that the people had turned the temple into a place of business.
As Luke recounts the story, “Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.” (Luke 21:12-13)
As Jesus rested, I could see sweat on his face. He looked tired for the moment; his breathing was heavy. He had eyes of disbelief and sorrow for those he considered his brothers. They seemed to have gone astray, being in the temple for the wrong reason. They thought they were doing good in the temple area, but it was on their terms and not on God’s terms.
It was part of tradition to offer a sacrifice of animals, but Jesus wanted them to be with God in their hearts. There were people who were facilitating buying these animals, creating an area of commerce they felt was justified to help the Jews celebrate Passover. Jesus wanted the temple to be holy.
And so, I find myself sometimes struggling with my real intent to be in church. At times, I want to ask God for help as I think about challenges from work. On some occasions, I might start to pray and then my mind drifts to problem solving the obstacle of the day. Or perhaps, I find it tempting to rationalize my behavior in life in general that I meant well or maybe I was correct in my actions, but maybe I wasn’t. I forget in the moment my real reason for being in church.
It is in these moments when I want to take control of my reason for being in church and to direct my mind in prayer that I am more likely to behave like the money changers. I may be tempted to say, “I am not doing anything wrong,” or “I made time and traveled a ways to be here in church and feel a little prideful.” It is in these moments that I can tell I am not raising my heart to God; I am being resistant to letting God dwell in me.
I went to church this past Sunday with this story in the back of my head. I decided to walk in and not have an agenda, to just rest with God. It felt good to be in God’s arms, just resting. I found myself contemplating Jesus on the cross, our blessed mother and St. john by his side. I could feel that Jesus understood my challenges in prayer and accepted me just as I was. The chants from the choir seemed to elevate my heart, and after I received communion, asking Jesus to live in me, I could hear God the Father telling me, “John, you are my beloved son with whom I am well pleased.” I just went back to my pew and rested.
Thank you, Lord, to being with me, for guiding me, for holding me, for loving me. Thank you for helping me realize in church that I am your temple where you can reside in my heart.
