Why Did Jesus “Cleanse” The Temple?
Out of some 60–70 Jesus stories in the Gospels, only five appear in all four. Three are Passion-related: the Palm Sunday entry into Jerusalem, his trial and death, and his resurrection. That leaves just two: this one, and the feeding of the 5,000. Given that John is 90% unique material compared to the Synoptic Gospels, that’s really rather interesting. Maybe we should not read too much into the statistics, but it surely makes them worthy of a closer look.
The Temple accounts are found in Matt 21; Mark 11; Luke 19; and John 2. John places the event very early—immediately after the wedding at Cana and before Nicodemus in John 3, which is followed by the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4. All are worthy of theological reflection in their own right—we might say that John specialises in theological reflection—but the Temple story generally seems to receive less attention.
I put “cleanse” in scare quotes because, although it’s often spoken of as that in popular Christianity (sermons and so on), none of the Gospel writers actually use the word. Their language is about driving out those who were buying and selling, and overturning the tables. The idea of cleansing is being ‘read into’ the story (we’ll come on to where it originated and why).
But let’s start with what was happening before we look at the theological significance. It’s summed up in John 2:14: “In the temple courts, Jesus found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money.”
First off, the Passover festival was a pilgrimage festival, where faithful Jews from around the region would come both to worship and to pay the annual half-shekel temple tax (Exodus 30:11-16), which was an atonement offering to the Lord. This had to be paid in a particular coinage, “the shekel of the sanctuary,” which meant that the Roman coins and other foreign currencies that the Jewish pilgrims brought with them needed to be changed. This was the role of the ‘money lenders’ (at a profit, of course). In the Parable of the Talents, Matt 27, when the master chides the unfaithful slave, “You should at least have put my money on deposit with the bankers,” most older translations correctly say “money-changers” or “exchangers.” So far, then, what’s the big deal? This was a service that needed to be performed to fulfil the command in Torah.
The same is true when it comes to the other main activity. Temple worship necessarily involved sacrifices; hence, the presence of the “cattle, sheep and doves.” They were being sold because, in order to make a sacrifice, worshippers first needed to buy them. So again, what’s the big deal? This was another service that needed to be performed to enable Temple worship to happen.
The clue to Jesus’ actions in driving out the merchants and their animals, scattered the coins of the money-changers and overturning their tables, lies in his two quotations from the Prophets in Matt 21:13: “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ (Isaiah 56:7) but you are making it ‘a den of robbers’ (Jeremiah 7:11).” Jesus’ anger was not a critique of commerce, but of exploitative practices (inflated prices and profiteering from worship and sacrifice). The money-changers and merchants paid fees and rents to the Temple authorities and priestly families, and received a share of the profits. Prices were raised during holiday (pilgrimage) periods.
Originally, this commerce took place outside the Temple precincts, but during the high priesthood of Annas and his son-in-law, Caiaphas (see John 18:13 and Luke 3:2), it was moved inside, into the Court of the Gentiles, to enable the priestly dynasty to be in direct control and to personally profit. Both the Babylonian Talmud and Josephus condemn the house of Annas for being corrupt and oppressive, misusing the Temple economy to make themselves wealthy. Jesus’ prophetic critique, in continuity with the great Old Testament prophets, explains his actions and citations, and also why Annas and Caiaphas saw him as such a threat, to be eliminated (see also, Acts 4:5–7).
When Jesus quotes Jeremiah, “You have made it ‘a den of robbers,” it’s easy to assume he’s speaking to the merchants, but the real blame lies with the high priestly hierarchy; they are the ‘you’ that Jesus is accusing.
But there is more. The full text of Isaiah 56:7 says, “My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations.” (The words in italics are included in Mark 11:17, but the quotation is abbreviated in Matthew and Luke.) The Court of the Gentiles was the only place that non-Jews (those from ‘the nations’) were allowed to come to pray. But now, it had been taken over (“sold out”) for a noisy, bustling marketplace—effectively excluding the outsiders, who were already marginalised from communing with God and now denied entirely. Throughout Scripture, God abhors the exploitation of the poor, injustice, exclusion, and religious corruption. Jesus’ actions here are in full continuity with the prophetic tradition.
Although it may superficially seem like the same thing, this is not ‘cleansing’ the Temple. That idea comes from the Reformers. It was Calvin who first described the account as a ‘purification’ or ‘purging’ (Latin: purificatio, purgatio). He interpreted Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple as symbolising the purifying of worship. A Reformed reading of the story through a ‘purification’ lens is consistent with its theological emphasis (some might say, obsession) deriving from God’s wrath towards sin.
No doubt the Reformers saw in the Temple story a direct correspondence between corrupt practices in Judaism in Jesus’ and Paul’s day and the corrupt Roman Catholicism of their own day (a correspondence they also saw in a salvation by ‘faith’ versus ‘good works’ contrast in their reading of Romans and Galatians). It is from Calvinism and the Reformers that contemporary evangelicalism has inherited an embedded theological anti-Judaism that frequently breaks out, often without even being recognised for what it is.
What then is the potential application—what lessons and even perhaps warnings—might we find in this story? Perhaps it’s obvious, but just in case, let’s articulate some things.
It’s one thing to need to attend to the business of the kingdom (the need to manage our churches, organisations, and infrastructures, and to do that well, is self-evident), but it’s another thing entirely to turn the kingdom into a business. And especially, a business through which those leading receive an improper personal financial gain.
It’s true that, as Jesus said, “The worker deserves his wages” (Luke 10:7). But there are wages and there is de facto fraud. The kind of fleecing of the faithful, including, shamefully, the faithful poor, that we see in parts of the Christian world—I’m thinking especially of televangelists and Prosperity Gospel preachers who are multi-millionaires thanks to their warped, self-enriching, theology of ‘giving’—is surely an abomination to God. Enjoy it for now, ladies and gentlemen, because we shall all face a day of reckoning.
Perhaps closer to home is everyday preaching and teaching on giving. I know from personal experience, both as a congregant and a minister, that it is all too easy for Scriptures to be “used” (or at least, there is a strong temptation for them to be used) to generate a desired outcome in financial giving. The work of God needs to be funded, for it to happen, but we must ultimately trust God to finance it, and not be tempted to try to “manipulate” the result.
I put “manipulate” in scare quotes because I don’t think (for the most part) that most preaching and teaching is doing that intentionally. But let’s just say that it's a massively sensitive area that requires great wisdom and indeed, compassion, not least in how our message comes across to those with very limited financial resources. For example, “tithing” may sound proportionate (it’s 10.00% for everyone), but it has a disproportionate impact—it affects the poorer person far more than the richer person, whose disposable income (discretionary spending capacity) has much more headroom.
If the people of God are the ‘temple’ in Christianity—individually, and collectively (1 Cor 3:16–17)—then we need to ask ourselves why Jesus’ actions in the Second Temple, a story significant enough to be featured in all four Gospels, would not be equally reflective of his thinking concerning his church today.