by Donna Davis

This reflection is for John 2:13-25.

First impressions affect long-term perceptions. As a child, I learned in religion class that Jesus was my friend, my brother, someone who could relate to me and meet me wherever I was in my life. I refer now to this as ‘warm and fuzzy Jesus.’ It's cheeky shorthand, but also simple and evocative — you understand what I mean when I say it. When I use this phrase, I don't mean to denigrate the existence or importance of nurturing and tolerance, especially in Jesus. I am profoundly grateful that Jesus perfects both of those qualities and that he is beside me even though, in comparison to him, I am lowly. However, when we limit our understanding of Jesus to being only nurturing and tolerant, we miss his other equally important characteristics. 

While this was my perception as a child, I recall clearly that my grandmother’s image was radically different. She thought of Jesus first and foremost as ‘Our Lord’, and the first person of the Trinity she referred to always as ‘the Almighty God’. The three persons of the Trinity were majestic, powerful, and supreme. 

There was a time when I struggled to recognize the Jesus of my childhood as the actor in this Sunday’s Gospel. John’s description is dramatic: “Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables.” How could I reconcile Jesus — my friend, my brother — with this angry man who sent people scurrying away in fear, who whipped animals and turned over tables? This was not warm and fuzzy Jesus. This was someone I didn’t know: angry Jesus. 

The Old Testament says that our God is a jealous God — jealous, mind you, not envious. John's Gospel depicts Jesus’ righteous anger for the misuse of the temple, his dwelling place, by those who put greed above service and self-interest above devotion to God. Jesus’ message is clear: such things must be driven out. 

Then I thought, if Jesus so jealously protects the sanctity of the physical temple, how much more will he protect my own holiness? For, as Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians tells us, our bodies are temples. 

When I am under attack by forces that would use me in my weakness as a means to achieve sinful ends, how grateful I am for a Jesus who will cleanse this temple with the same force and righteous anger as he did the Great Temple. It is made of stone, but we are his own creations, carved on the palm of the hand of the Almighty God. He will not allow evil to occupy the space within us that he has claimed for Himself.

And now, when I think of Jesus driving out the forces that would mire me in sin and drag me from him, I see that this Jesus is one with my warm and fuzzy Jesus. 

Donna is a contributor to Ora, where you can read reflections for the weekend Mass readings. Go to oraministry.ca to read more.