NOTES for Mat 21:12-17

The image of Jesus overturning the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of those who were selling doves, Zionist analogue of a kiosk of candles is so unusual that Christians are often called during their life to answer this awkward question: why He acts like that? This contradicts dramatically the little sweet face of the religious ornament we call “the third moiety of the XIX century ", but not the real Son of God. But indeed, it seems that the Lord, of Whom it was said: He will not break a bruised reed and will not extinguish a dimly burning wick (Is 42:3), shouldn’t have acted like that.

What Jesus accomplishes at this moment is called a prophetic action. Like Hosea and Isaiah that gave symbolic names to their children as a testimony of the prophetic fulfillments, like Jeremiah who buys the field at Anathoth, when entire Israel will be invaded from any moment. These are viewable images that enter people’s conscience who don’t wish to listen (they have ears but listen not). However this action of the Christ is not a prophecy but the fulfillment of a prophecy: “for the zeal of thine house hath eaten Me up" (Ps 69 :10) says a very famous messianic psalm. Evangelist John writes on behalf of the followers in the second chapter of his Evangel that they understood this Jesus’ action exactly like that: he acted as the Messiah has to according to prophecy.

Honestly speaking, this is in reality a distinctive mark of the Messiah, because we all behave toward social proprieties and stereotypes of the unction with a very big respect than for the holiness of the almighty. Although He can forgive us our irreverence, but the society will not forgive our reproaches as it did not forgive Jesus.

The image of Jesus overturning the tables of the money changers, those ancient exchange booths, and the benches of the sellers of doves, the Zion equivalent of a candle kiosk, is so unfamiliar that in the course of life Christians often have to answer puzzled questions: why does He act this way? It sharply contradicts the sugary little face of that religious painting called "the third half of the nineteenth century," but not the real Son of God. Yet indeed the Lord, of whom it is said that He will not break a bruised reed or quench a smoking wick (Isa. 42:3), would seem not to act in such a way.

What Jesus does at this moment is called a prophetic action. As Hosea and Isaiah give symbolic names to their children as witnesses to the fulfillment of prophecies, as Jeremiah buys a field in Anathoth when all Israel is about to be occupied, these are visible images that enter the consciousness of people who do not want to listen, having ears and not hearing. Yet this action of Christ is not a prophecy, but the fulfillment of a prophecy: "Zeal for Your house consumes Me" (Ps. 68:10), says the famous messianic psalm. The evangelist John writes on behalf of the disciples in the second chapter of his Gospel that they understood this action of Jesus precisely in this way: He acts as the Messiah, according to the prophecies, must act.

Frankly speaking, this is indeed a distinguishing sign of the Messiah, because all of us treat social proprieties and stereotypes of pious sweetness with far greater reverence than the holiness of the Almighty. Because He may perhaps forgive us our irreverence, but society will not forgive reproach, just as it did not forgive Jesus.

Today's composite passage from the Gospel of Matthew tells of two similar actions of the Lord Jesus Christ that caused no small astonishment among those who witnessed them. Both of these moments - the driving of the merchants from the Temple and the withered fig tree - fit within the framework of the "prophetic actions" well known in the Old Testament. These actions are performed at God's command and serve as a kind of visible parable. The prophets performed them in order to convey some revelation to their contemporaries, and to do so in a way that would be remembered for a long time.

The driving of the merchants from the Temple is directly the fulfillment of what was said about Christ in the Psalms and the prophets. This action is interpreted quite unambiguously as the fulfillment of prophecies, and therefore literally the next day the chief priests and elders ask Christ: "By what authority are You doing these things?" The Lord does not give them a direct answer, but His disciples, as the evangelists testify, understood Him well and remembered forever.

The withered fig tree most often raises the question: "for what?" The fig tree, of course, is guilty of nothing, but from ancient times the tree was a symbol that the prophets also used often. They spoke of Israel as God's planting, needed exclusively in order to bear fruit for God. If this does not happen, the existence of this planting loses its meaning. This is what the Lord directs His disciples to.

The people greet Jesus with joyful cries: "Salvation to the Son of David!" Many of us came to faith with the same joy, meeting Christ for the first time, suddenly realizing that He is truly alive, truly answers prayer, and leads us through life.

But after the enthusiastic cries of greeting come decisive changes: the Lord encounters the complete mismatch between the Temple, the center of Jerusalem's spiritual life, and the purpose for which it was built; the spiritual blindness of the religious leaders; and the unfaithfulness of the people, who are ready to shout both "hosanna" and "crucify Him." He encounters all this also at the "micro level," when He comes into the life of an individual person who, though glad at the Savior's coming, has already managed to turn from a temple of the Holy Spirit into a "den of robbers," and who will prove unfaithful and blind to Him many more times. But, as we know, this is not yet the end of the story...

Into almost every line of this story the evangelist places a parallel with biblical prophecies, and some of them are quoted directly in the text. But almost every quotation is interpreted and understood here in a new way: Jesus becomes the center of all the prophecies and psalms. And this newness is naturally dictated by the course of the events that follow: everything will be fulfilled both as expected and, at the same time, in a way completely different from what the disciples and the people accompanying Jesus expect.

He enters the holy city, but what awaits Him there is not triumph, but execution. He is greeted as King, but He will be condemned as an impostor and criminal. He cleanses the Jerusalem Temple, but soon He Himself will become the new Temple for those who follow Him after His Resurrection.

Christ shows a new way, not at all the one people expect, even His disciples. He will fulfill the prophecies in a new way, in a way that even the wisest of the wise will not think to read them. He does not do what we expect of Him; He calls us to follow Him into His new life, into a new Heaven and a new Earth.

Then as now, passionate message of prophets pulls those who’re able to receive it out of the swamp of common religious convictions and practice. Indeed we tend to make a god for ourselves after our image and likeness. We always know what he should think on this or that subject (and though the Scriptures give a solid base for such assumptions, we somehow never get to notice it being paradoxical and at times allowing more than one interpretation). We're always there to help God judging the living and the dead, and to remind Him of something that He has forgotten to do for us etc. But God is a different person from what we think of Him. While accepting his incarnation we mustn’t deceive ourselves and make him as small-minded, wicked and stupid as we are. He is faithful to himself. He is not there to fulfill our dreams and wishes (which, by the way, are a little too primitive). He is inconceivable. His thoughts are not our thoughts. The only will he fulfills is his own. He always remains the same – no matter whether he is dwelling in the unapproachable light, permeating the creation, or going down the road to Jerusalem.