John’s Gospel begins with a dizzying set of Jesus tales. It begins in metaphysics:
“In the beginning was the Word . . . without him not a thing was made.”
Then, chapter two has him as the impromptu wine maître d’ for a wedding feast, intervening to spare the host’s embarrassment by turning water to wine—and such fine wine it was! Then the scene switches to the temple where Jesus makes a holy mess of things, rousting the loan sharks and stampeding their wares.
Ground of Being? Party patron? Temple bouncer? Which portrait of Jesus will do?
It was during Passover, the Hebrews’ annual festival celebrating liberation from Egypt’s slaveyard. Passover was Washington’s Birthday, Memorial Day, Veterans’ Day, Flag Day, and Fourth of July all rolled into one.
Which Jesus fits you best: Philosophical First Cause? Winebibber. Incarnation’s Agitation?
Rome always sent extra troops to town when Passover rolled around, and I swear I heard Pete Seeger singing “Which Side Are You On?”
Peddlers depend on temples of one sort or another—any spire will do, but a mall will, too—to traffick the soul’s deep longing.
Hawking access to the holy, preying ever on the lowly.
Yet soon shall the Word arise and unleash the earth from its bondage, its bridle, and it’s breach.
©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by John 2:13-22