Cleansing the Temple

Ouch.

As I read today's Gospel (John 2:13-22), I felt the pinch.  I thought of Paul's words: "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's spirit dwells in you?" (1 Cor. 3:16)  So I had to look.

I looked in my heart, in my actions.  In my temple, I found lots of things beside the presence of God and the worship of God.  I found a money-changer, and someone selling doves.  I found myself putting my comfort in front of prayer.  I found places where I hold myself out as a woman of prayer, while I go to the mailbox looking for checks.  I found lots of times when I "welcome" people to the house of God, to the Companions community, without really seeing them.  I see the insanity of thinking I'm in a position to welcome others to a house that is not mine.  My temple is a mess.

This Lent has been powerful for me so far.  Even before it began I was being challenged to see the ways I cut people off or keep them in place.  I've seen more of my lack of trust in God, my compulsion to control others to feel safe, my racism.  I'm seeing more and more the cost of my perpetual haste - the sloppiness and lack of attention I can give to what and who is given to me to notice.  I'm daunted by the size of my mess.

I'm really not being hard on myself here.  I'm being honest.  Isn't that what Lent is for?  I'm actually excited, as I begin to face the mess in my temple.  I don't know what happens later, but I can smell potential, in the same way we can see possibility when we clean our homes.  What might I notice, and do differently?  How might I be a better of ally of BIPOC, a better Companion, a better friend and sister?  No, I'm excited.

So I pray: Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.

All the pictures of this scene, following John, emphasize Jesus' anger and violence.  It may be holy zeal on his part, but I don't want to think of God's cleansing in me as the act of an angry, violent God.  I think of God showing me the mess and giving me tools to get to work.  God is not angry, but God is also not co-dependent!  In answer to my prayer, God says, "Here you go."

What are the tools I'm given?  First, God gives me inner eyes to see the mess and the desire to clean up. These don't start with me; they are a gift in themselves.  Then God hands me the glass cleaner, so I can see myself better.  Now it's time for the dust rag of humility, letting me see others more fully.  God offers the broom of willingness to sweep away the distractions that get between me and God.  But a broom isn't enough.  To really clean, I need the mop: renewing my baptismal covenant, letting myself be washed again in my heart.  And not least, God shows me the door to take out the trash!  Prayer, more prayer.  Letting go of the dust, the dirt in my soul.

Then I can look again.  Better, I can ask a companion I trust to look with me.  Did I miss something?  Probably.  Just like cleaning my house, I do what I can see at the time.  But I also get to notice where the shelves are clean, the floor is clean, the mirror is looking better.  I can stop sneezing from my own dust and start breathing deeply again.  I can look outside.

I don't know; maybe this doesn't sound like a project you want to get into.  But I find that each time I do it, I'm happier.  Yesterday I gave the car its spring cleaning, and I like knowing that it will last longer and do better than if I had let it go.  My soul is infinitely more precious than the car!

If you think your soul is maybe in need of spring cleaning, go to it.  God be with you.