Chase Us Away Again

Chase Us Away Again

(“He told them, ‘The Scriptures say, ‘My house should be a place of worship.’ But you have made it a place where robbers hide!’” Luke 19:46)

They rode in late, just as the sun was slanting
through the gates and turning the plaster walls golden.
The day had been long, minding the store, trading in livestock,
stowing away coins taken from foreigners before they could worship.

But their afternoon was interrupted, their commerce dented,
when someone chased the merchants out of the precincts
and quoted prophets quite out of context. We were
the elite who showed up every week to facilitate the
transactions that put offerings in the hands and silver in our pockets.
It was standard practice. We enhanced their worship for a modest fee.
We set up early in the morning, we were prepared for every transaction,
we counted our earnings often, and gave sojourners reasons to
sing the old psalms paid for by the temple tax.

How were people
supposed to worship
when that man caused such a disturbance and hindered their prayers?
We deserve to earn a living, we deserve to be paid for our time,
we offer a sacred service, we offer entrance to god.
We do it in the open, we do not hide. We capitalize our assistance
in banners print boldly about our booths. Today only we offer
a Passover special, two lambs for the price of one. Share with a
friend or just sacrifice both and you’ll be happy with your results.
God will double your prosperity, and we will divest some of our inventory.
But our supply is running short, that man chased them out of the temple.
The whip he used cracked louder than the ravens flying overhead.
We weren’t the first and we won’t be the last who, dressed like
penitents, hand out tickets to god with a price you must agree,
is quite reasonable to gain an audience with the Almighty.
Come back next week, the intruder will be gone by then.
There are plans afoot to make sure he disturbs no one ever
again.

So, we’ll be back to work, with better deals than ever before.
Announce it to your friends, let’s keep the practice moving
through the centuries. I’ve heard Jesus doesn’t shout as loud,
or maybe the churches have drowned him out. I’d like to see
how much money is spent to make one prosper with lear jets
and castle compounds built off the exchange of dollars for
distilled water from the Jordan.
Jesus, come and turn over our tables. We will not know how
to put it all together again without you. No more grand opening
sales,
no more closeouts,
just a room large enough for pilgrims to pray, women to worship,
and men to mend the relationships hardened by corporate greed.
We need you to chase us away. We need to get the picture.
We need to be quieted. We need to be freed.
We need to offer, free and fearless, a place at the table
for the poorest and the rich. We need to be divested of our
big-eyed lust for the best. We need to honor the humble like
the lambs we are and the Lamb we follow. Come, chase us
away again.