Curtis A. Bronzan

At the outset of the third and final portion of our study, we remind ourselves of Jesus’ proclamation in the first century Temple, which informs our ongoing thesis:

And as [Jesus] taught them, he said, “Is it not written:
‘My house will be called
a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’” (Mark 11.17)

Jesus’ statement, it should be noted, is a joint quotation of Isaiah 56.7, which features YHWH looking forward to the day when eunuchs and foreigners would worship in the temple; “these I will bring to my holy mountain, and give them joy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations” and Jeremiah 7.9-11, where YHWH questions, “‘Will you steal and murder, commit adultery and perjury, burn incense to Baal and follow other gods you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which bears my Name, and say, “We are safe” – safe to do all these detestable things? Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching! declares the LORD.”

Central to Jesus’ proclamation – as well as his counter-cultural ministry – is the assertion that the Kingdom of God is now at hand, and as such, those previously excluded from the Temple system are now included in this new eschatological movement of God’s people. This is seen from the outset of Mark’s gospel, as seen in the first chapter of Mark: “After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. ‘The time has come,’ he said. ‘The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!’” (Mark 1.15) Though it seems entirely obvious at this point in our study, we must remind ourselves that the heart of Jesus’ mission and ministry centered not upon a program or personality (even His own!), but rather the worship of YHWH.

This reality forms the primary church practice for renewing the Western church toward an increased missiological engagement. As we turn our attention toward renewing church practices, we should be careful to note that the difficulties of deconstructing church hierarchies looks different in each setting. As Van Gelder states, “it is hard to read the materials of the New Testament on their own terms and come to any clarity of how to proceed with matters of leadership practices and organizational structures. Power gets institutionalized within structure, and once structure is in place it is quite difficult to reform.” (The Ministry of the Missional Church, 124) Thus, this concluding post will, at best, hope to broadly sketch some possibilities for renewing the church in the West.

Though we have previously recognized the difficulty of relying upon the preached Word as the primary means of communication inherent in Quitting Church and Essential Church?, their authors rightly recognize it as a means by which congregations are able to commune with God. Duin states that pastors who rely upon “[t]ime alone, time spent with God, time spent in the Bible… [and] fight for this time manage not only to produce better sermons but also to keep their personality centered on God. When they slip off that center, that’s when the worst problems arise.” (Duin, Quitting Church, 133) Of course, this cannot simply be the focus of the pastor, but must become the focus of the entire congregation. And in light of our study, this must become the focus of the congregation’s communal gatherings, even reshaping the structure of our gatherings. In his study of nominality, Gibbs rightly recognizes the role of worship in the life of a community;

Religion becomes secondhand when a generation arises which refuses to hear from God or to whom God has become silent… The important issue is to recognize that as soon as the second generation becomes the dominant group in the life of the church, nominality becomes a growing problem, unless that generation has its own authentic experience of God.” (In Name Only, 44)

Instead of allowing worship services to remain in an attractional role, truly missional communities should begin seeing such gatherings as opportunities to incarnationally translate the gospel into a particular culture. Darrell Guder puts it this way:

What we have received from our traditions must be empowered by God’s Spirit so that it can be “passed on” (traducere – tradition), and we are to be the agents of that translation. This becomes very concrete: the language we use, the forms of communication we adopt the music and symbolism, the liturgies – all of this can and must be translated for the sake of the witness we are to be and to do. Our worship services are to be missionary events, invitations to follow Christ. (Guder, The Continuing Conversion of the Church, 46)

Gibbs agrees: “The worship of missional and emerging churches is God-focused, rather than seeking to enhance the celebrity status of the preacher or worship leaders – it is “the central act by which the community celebrates with joy and thanksgiving both God’s presence and God’s promised future.” The Gospel and Our Culture Network, “Empirical Indicators of a ‘Missional Church,’” The Gospel and Our Culture 10, no. 3, in Gibbs, ChurchMorph, 45-46)

Indeed, this realization is a necessary step toward renewing church practices, as worship is not a mere program, but is central to the heart of a faithful community, as proclaimed by Jesus in the first century temple. Without reforming the theology and structure of church gatherings, increased missiological engagement thus runs the risk of becoming another program to do for church, instead of a way to more fully be church. Craig Van Gelder writes,

Interestingly, the missional church conversation has introduced a new dimension into the discussion of the identity of the church. At the center of this conversation is the relationship of the church to its context in light of a different understanding of the nature of essence of the church. In this conversation, mission is no longer understood primarily in functional terms as something the church does, as is the case for the corporate church. Rather it is understood primarily in terms of something the church is, as something that is related to its nature. (The Ministry of the Missional Church, 85-86)

Central to the desire to reform our worship gatherings is to recognize the churches calling to engage faithfully within their particular cultural setting. We have previously noted the mid-century reconception of the local church as a community center which features basketball courts, swimming pools and fellowship halls, thus becoming “the centralized, hierarchical, and stabilizing organization, the life-giving replacement for, and integration of, all that had been lost when urbanization and automotive mobility ripped us away from a common imagination.” (Tickle, The Great Emergence, 90)

Though it is easy to criticize these offerings as a misstep, we must also recognize these churches inherent desire to engage with their neighborhoods. A more faithful way of engaging, however, is explicated by Van Gelder, who notes that congregations led by the Spirit have a dynamic relationship with their surrounding communities, as they seek to join God in what He is doing, instead of imparting their own vision. Thus, there are elements of relying upon the community’s resources and elements of seeking to serve the community in needs not yet met. He asserts:

The primary way of theorizing this relationship is from the perspective of “resource dependence theory.” Congregations must be aware of the resources they need to draw from their environment in order to carry our their purpose and accomplish their vision. The types of information that a Spirit-led congregation should be interested in gathering about its community include such things as population trends, demographic profiles, transportation patterns, residential location of membership, organizations serving the community, business development and employment, and so on. It is important not just to gather such information, but… to read this information from a theological perspective. (Van Gelder, The Ministry of the Missional Church, 85-86)

Gaining such information allows an increasingly mission-minded congregation toward engaging with the realistic needs of their community, instead of building gyms and swimming pools in hopes of attracting more giving units. (We are further reminded of the missiological orientation of Jesus’ temple act by Matthew, who highlights his prophetic judgment in light of those who came to him immediately following; “The blind and the lame came to [Jesus] at the temple, and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the teachers of the law saw the wonderful things he did and the children shouting in the temple area, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David,’ they were indignant. ‘Do you hear what these children are saying?’ they asked him. ‘Yes,’ replied Jesus, ‘have you never read, ‘From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise’?’” (Matthew 21.14-16)

Previously in our study we alluded to the research of Donald McGavran, who discussed the “homogenous units” principle, which – due to misappropriations of his writing by the church growth movement – has led to increasingly ethnically segregated churches in the West. Without oversimplifying, we should recall Solomon’s prayer that foreigners would be drawn to the temple because of God’s holy name and Jesus’ assertion that the holy place was to be “a house of prayer for all nations.” (Mark 11.17) Thus, while we can recognize and appreciate McGavran’s findings, we must question any church growth strategy that would purposefully exclude others, due to their “otherness.” On the contrary, Van Gelder asserts that

a Spirit-led congregation is reminded that they also were once strangers and foreigners and that they can actually grow into a deeper understanding of the reconciling powers of the gospel as they become relationally connected to the other. The biblical and theological issues is that cultural diversity needs to be understood as a gift from God to be celebrated rather than as a problem to be solved. (Van Gelder, The Ministry of the Missional Church, 51)

It is not only for “our” sake that we include the “other,” however. Van Gelder later notes “it is often through contact with the other that new insights into how to participate in God’s mission in the world come into focus.” (157)

Therefore, instead of ignoring our differences, an increasingly mission-minded church must seek to become a place where our diversity is an opportunity whereby we can more fully represent the worldwide Body of Christ and more beautifully serve those in our community, looking forward to the day where all tribes and tongues will join together in glory. Van Gelder, again; “The church is therefore a sign to the world that the now is already present, a foretaste for the world of the eschatological future that has already begun and an instrument to share this good news with everyone everywhere.” (The Ministry of the Missional Church, 111)

We have thus asserted that to renew church practices in the West, ecclesiological leaders must recognize the importance of the congregation as a worshipping community who engages with their surrounding community, purposefully including the “other,” in hopes of meeting God in His missio Dei. Though our study has focused upon the perspective of those in leadership, these changes must also reform the institutional implications of each congregation, especially in light of the upside-down Kingdom Jesus sought to inaugurate in His ministry and prophetic temple action. Greene and Robinson similarly assert that Western culture presently offers “the ability to effect dramatic change from the bottom up, rather than (as the privileged custodians of the knowledge industry had previously opined was necessary) from the top down.” (Green and Robinson, Metavista, 52)

Though this will, as aforementioned, look different in every congregational setting, recognizing – and living into – this reality is central to any congregation embodying faith in a postmodern, post-Christian culture. While there are those who mourn this as a loss, (See, for instance, Rainer, Thom S. and Sam S. Rainer III. Essential Church? Reclaiming a Generation of Dropouts, 2008) we should instead recognize that our 2.0 culture presents us with an opportunity by which we can reform our respective congregational lives to more closely mirror the intentions of Jesus. Notice, for instance, Matthew 23.8-12:

But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called ‘teacher,’ for you have one Teacher, the Christ. The greatest among you will be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

We began this series by noting the new conversation taking place in contemporary ecclesiology, which has shifted away from church growth into a renewed understanding regarding the church’s purpose. We then noted the issues at the heart of Jesus’ prophetic temple action, ways in which those issues are mirrored in modern, institutional faith structures, and church practices that could help renew local congregations toward increased missiological engagement. We conclude by recognizing the importance of this ongoing conversation, albeit recognizing that our words must now become flesh:

The presence of the Spirit and the Spirit’s teaching and leading the church give birth to a church that is missionary by nature. The Spirit-led church’s very existence in the world has to be understood in missionary terms. The church cannot help but participate in God’s mission in the world. This is part of what it means to be the church. To do less would be contrary to its nature [though] the Spirit’s presence in the church means that this reality is always there to be cultivated and lived into. (Van Gelder, The Ministry of the Missional Church, 41)

The aforementioned moral implications regarding managing for efficiency have influenced the church not only in its hierarchical power structure, but also its gospel message. Over time, this structure has seeped into each and every aspect of church life, thus resulting in a dangerous reductionism wherein the church primarily addresses the needs of individuals over community and organizes for efficiency rather than mission. Guder locates this dilemma early within church history:

As the gospel proclaimed by the church has been reduced to individual salvation, that salvation has itself become the purpose and program of the church. When the church went through the paradigm shift from its initial shape as a movement to its continuing shape as an institution, its focus was more and more upon the administration of the salvation. (Guder, The Continuing Conversion of the Church, 133)

Ultimately, then, it might be helpful to question the role of Jesus’ prophetic, eschatological temple action when addressing the role of the Church as an institution throughout history, though doing so is outside the focus of our present study.

This emphasis upon individuals and efficiency is closely mirrored, of course, in the first century Temple where the buying and selling of sacrificial animals had been reduced to a science, whereby individuals were promised the forgiveness of sins. In this sense, both the first century Temple as well as contemporary Western churches have missed the importance of being a “house of prayer for all nations;” (see Mark 15.17) the latter of which having done so at least in part by a misappropriation of Donald McGavran’s “homogenous units” principle.

Phyllis Tickle also examines the result of churches marketing themselves to meet the “needs” of church shoppers in her recent book The Great Emergence. She notes that beginning in the middle of the 20th century

[c]hurches began to have more building programs for basketball courts and swimming pools and fellowship halls that for sanctuaries and naves. Hugely expensive to maintain as well as to build, none of those courts and pools and meeting halls has as much to do with spiritual or religious growth in faith as they did with effecting a uniformity of social experience and formation that would be conducive to a uniformity of belief. (The Great Emergence: How Christianity is Changing and Why, 90-91.)

Julia Duin, religion editor for The Washington Times also notes the change in perspective. Following a discussion with a couple in Norfolk, Virginia, she writes “[t]hey were tired of how every church they entered was involved in some kind of building project. ‘Why is small bad?’ Diane asked as we chatted in an ethnic restaurant near one of her art shows. ‘Why does everyone want to be the Crystal Cathedral?’” (Quitting Church, 60) This prizing of the large over small is a further development of the two sacred cows, individualization and efficiency. As Fitch notes, “when numbers reach a certain level, a further increase in numbers may deter achieving the goals of being the body of Christ.” (The Great Giveaway, 29)

A final dilemma of contemporary Western church life is not as clearly seen within the first century Temple as previous aspects have been, though this does not minimize it’s problematic nature for contemporary ecclesiology. An over-reliance upon those in church leadership is also built upon the modernist ideas of individualism and efficiency. Fitch asserts that “effective leadership”

subtly trains pastors to act and behave as if they are in control of the church. These CEO-pastor-leaders do not serve, they lead; they do not submit to the community and the mutual gifts of the Spirit, they direct the organization; they do not see the church as an alive organism in which the Spirit moves to discern the future, they discern the future… Such pastors cannot help but become more controlling, authoritarian, and bottom-line oriented. (The Great Giveaway, 82. He continues: “When you take such pastors, formed as they are into effective leaders and trained into a scientific understanding of Scripture, you have a double recipe for heavy-handed despotism and future church splits.”)

As aforementioned, this is not precisely mirrored in the first century Temple, though it’s underlying current can be seen if we carefully factor in Jesus’ assertion that God’s house is to be a place wherein people can commune with God, as opposed to simply receiving spiritual goods and services, administrated by an authority figure. (See Mark 11.17)

A subset of this demand for “effective leadership” can also be seen in the unnecessary dependence upon preaching. Though thorough examination is outside the realm of our study, it should be noted that the Greek word kerusso, found through the New Testament and commonly translated at “preach”, should be more accurately rendered “communicate.” If recognized by churches, the preached word could more appropriately take it’s place among numerous ways of communicating the Word, which could also help diminish the capacity with which sermons can become passive shows in which the congregation must be entertained.

Fitch insightfully examines how an over-reliance upon the preached Word can reinforce a passive, individualistic faith. Referring to it as “The Lecture Hall,” he asserts “[t]he orientation of the worship service is toward the sermon. The goal is maintaining orthodox scriptural doctrine.” (The Great Giveaway, 97) This, he argues, worked when the dominant culture was in line with the church, though in a postmodern, post-Christian culture, such a rationalistic, individualistic means of communication cannot be called upon to effectively transform the congregation as it once did. This reality is completely missed by both Thom and Sam Rainer, authors of Essential Church?, as well as Julia Duin, in her otherwise helpful book, Quitting Church.

We have addressed both the first century temple system and Jesus’ action within it, as well as ways in which the contemporary Western church has “given away” what it means to be church, and next will turn our attention to renewing practices that could help the Western church rediscover it’s role as a community for the nations.

A while back I began a new series regarding contemporary ecclesiology in light of Jesus’ temple action. We concluded that first post by noting Solomon’s prayer that those of other nationalities would gather in the Temple, as well as his appeal that YHWH would “hear from heaven, [His] dwelling place.” Taken on its own account, then, this prayer thus recognizes that the function of the holy place is to be a gathering point for all peoples to respond to the God whose name they have heard. Furthermore, in it, Solomon clearly recognizes that the Temple is not God’s dwelling place, which is Heaven.

Alongside Solomon and the Apostle Paul, we should note [t]he God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. (Acts 17.24, contra Greene and Robinson, Metavista, 124) Though presently the term is practically viewed as profane, numerous scholars have asserted the inevitability of “institution.” Julia Duin, for instance, notes,

[t]he problem seems to be the church itself. Survey after survey says many Americans continue their private religious practices, such as reading the Bible, praying to God, and even sharing their faith in Jesus Christ. But they have given up on the institution. (Quitting Church, 18)

Note also Rainer and Rainer, Essential Church?, 76:

Christ and the church are bonded like the joining of a husband and wife in one flesh. Breaking this bond is serious. Yet droves of students are divorcing the church, and they do not cite irreconcilable differences… They leave quietly, and the church continues on as usual.”

Regarding the inevitability of institution, Eddie Gibbs, asserts, “[m]ost movements and organizations go through a life cycle if events are left to take their own course… The movement which the founder launched degenerates into a machine and ends up a monument.” (In Name Only: Tackling the Problem of Nominal Christianity, 19) Note also, Guder, Continuing Conversion, 187:

Movements do not remain movements: they either become institutions or they disappear. This is a sociological axiom. When a group of people gathers a second time to continue doing what they did when they gathered the first time, they have become an institution… Movements that claim that they are not institutions are practicing self-delusion.

Gibbs further notes the ways in which succeeding generations are further distanced from the intentions of the founder by time and space, which explicates why the “lifespan of a given organization is between sixty and eighty years… unless intervention strategies are in place.” (In Name Only, 20) In light of Gibbs’ research, then, we should recognize that the temple – as a function of the holy place in ancient Israel – had been thoroughly institutionalized, in modern parlance.

This perspective can be seen throughout Jesus’ ministry, as he continually speaks with and heals “others” without regard to the Temple system, which may help explain his continual request for secrecy (Again, we are thinking primarily of Mark’s account, which regularly depicts Jesus requesting silence, even from the demonic, since they know “who He is.” N.T. Wright thus asserts that Jesus’

deepest belief regarding the Temple was eschatological: the time had come for God to judge the entire institution. It had come to symbolize the injustice that characterized the society on the inside and on the outside, the rejection of the vocation to be the light of the world, the city set on a hill that would draw unto itself all the peoples of the world. (The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is, 54)

Thus, in judging the “entire institution,” Jesus’ prophetic action both points to the eschatological end of the Temple system, as well as its replacement by an holistic community of equal members. Historically speaking, of course, it could be argued that Jesus’ prophetic action was fulfilled by the Romans in 70 AD, though our continual focus here will be upon the theological and missiological implications of this event. It is our contention, then, that the role of institutional Christianity in the West is in many ways analogous to the holy place in first century Israel:

[i]n a postmodern society power no longer resides in old institutions such as the monarchy, the judiciary, the church, or, indeed, parliament. Just where power is actually institutionalized and maintained is not easy to discern, because the dispersal of power, as Foucault contended, is going on all the time. (Greene and Robinson, Metavista, 59)

Gibbs similarly notes,

Churches shaped by the big-business models of the industrial age, with their centralization of power and dependent and accountable branch offices, struggled to interpret the different entrepreneurial climate of the information age… The challenges they face parallel those of major corporations when their markets became increasingly diversified and subject to sudden changes in customer demands. Whereas denominational executives find themselves too removed from the frontline and overwhelmed by institutional challenges, preoccupied with “firefighting” flare-ups and with downsizing strategies, it is those church leaders at ground level grappling with the challenges of ministry and mission in their local contexts, who are most aware of the changes taking place. (ChurchMorph: How Megatrends Are Reshaping Christian Communities, 22-23)

After having thus explicated Jesus’ temple action in light of the Temple’s original purpose, we now turn our attention to the ways in which contemporary ecclesiology has begun to mirror the problems inherent in the first century temple system.

The religious gathering I serve is continuing to journey through different spiritual disciplines as a part of our Sunday morning gatherings. This week we thought together about serving others.

After playing Janet Jackson’s brilliant music video for her hit “What Have You Done for Me Lately?”, our primary text was Mark 10.35-45, which tells the story of two brothers, James and John, who were also disciples of Jesus. It concludes with

For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

So we thought together a little bit about the backgrounds of James and John; their father’s name, Zebedee (which means Thunder!), their background as fishermen (which is reappropriated in Jesus’ invitation to fish for people) and their social economic status (which may have taken a nosedive after they left their father (Thunder!) and his hired men to follow Jesus and fish for people instead.

Then, we thought together about the ways in which we can fall into the trap of ruminating on the things we may have “left” to follow Jesus instead (certain relationships, business practices, Sunday morning football?).

We concluded with Darrell Guder:

The act of Israel’s election was itself rooted in God’s gracious love. God chose Israel not for people’s merit but as an act of mercy… That calling, however, was not for Israel’s benefit alone. God’s missional intention was that all the world should be blessed.” (The Continuing Conversion of the Church, 78-79)

And we recognized that our “coming to Jesus” really had little to do with us in the first place. However it happened, it was not so much about our “decision” and more about His preemptive gracious act. And His calling is meant to be not only about us, but about how He uses us for others.

Of course, a lot of religion ends up being about us and our needs. But the stories of the Scriptures really are different. They’re about the God who meets us where we are and uses us to meet the needs of others. Which influences what church is supposed to be about.

And in light of how the majority of the American population views Christians, getting back to those Scriptures could do some good.

Amidst countless books and conferences devoted to church growth throughout recent decades, adherence to traditional Christian ecclesiologies in the West continues to weaken.

In their book Metavista: Bible, Church and Mission in an Age of Imagination, Colin Greene and Martin Robinson note the bleak reality:

In the past 50 years, mainline historical denominations of every kind have experienced a catastrophic numerical decline in terms of church attendance and active participation in church life and ministry, so much so that it is calculated that if this trend continues, some denominations will actually go out of business by the middle of this century. (Metavista: Bible, Church and Mission in an Age of Imagination, xvi)

Thom and Sam Rainer, likewise, state,

[m]ost churches are dwindling… The population in the United States is exploding, recently surpassing the three hundred million mark. But the church is losing ground. We are in a steep decline. The American church is dying. (Essential Church? Reclaiming a Generation of Dropouts, 8)

As such, the church growth movement – originally pioneered in part by the late Donald McGavran and Fuller Theological Seminary’s School of World Mission (now the School of Intercultural Studies) – has given way to a rather different conversation. Instead of investigating methods through which pastors are equipped to build bigger churches, the books under our examination address how to best live into the church’s original missional calling. (Greene and Robinson offer a helpful examination of the Church Growth Movement in light of missional ecclesiology in Metavista, 177-178) The purpose of this essay, then, is to analyze recent literature addressing missional ecclesiology in light of Jesus’ temple act as a model by which we are called to reform our ecclesiological understanding.

Jesus’ action in the temple is reported in each of the four canonical gospel accounts, though slight variations occur between them. For this reason, we will rely primarily upon Mark’s account, which is believed to be the earliest by the majority of contemporary New Testament scholars. According to Markan Priority, then, this earliest gospel account forms the basis for the other two synoptic gospels – Matthew and Luke – which interpret the temple event in light of their particular contexts. Mark 11.15-18 states:

On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written:
‘My house will be called
a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’”
The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.

However, reading this passage without reference to its place within a Markan “sandwich story” betrays its ultimate function in the text. A Markan sandwich story is composed of a simple chaism, consisting of A-B-A¹, whereby the elements on the story’s beginning and end help clarify the meaning of the middle, thus making an even larger point than if the middle story stood on it’s own. Therefore, factoring in the “figless” fig tree in verses 12-14 (A) and the same tree withered the next day in verses 20-21 (A¹), we see that Jesus’ temple action is more than a cleansing.

For this reason, we must ultimately disagree with Greene and Robinson when – in their earnest desire to combat individual Christianity composed of “those who want to reconceive Christianity without the church at all” – they state “Jesus never abandoned either the synagogue or the Temple,” in Metavista: Bible, Church and Mission in an Age of Imagination, 185.

Jesus’ action thus reveals the Temple’s eschatological destruction in favor of the coming Kingdom. Guder asserts that instead of the common Jewish understanding that “God’s claims had a geographical magnetic point,”

[i]n [Jesus’] interpretation of the law, his critique of the religious leaders of the day, and his actions toward the marginal and the non-Jewish, he demonstrated the universal scope of the kingdom drawing near. He challenged the very heart of the restrictive view of God’s saving work when he cleansed the temple… He taught his disciples to pray for the coming of the kingdom “on earth” and not just in Judea, and he sent them out “to make disciples of the nations.” (The Continuing Conversion of the Church, 78-79. As aforementioned, we should question his use of the term cleansing.)

This realization that the temple is no longer serving as a light to the nations is heightened by alluding to the original purpose for the temple, as prayed by King Solomon:

[a]s for the foreigner who does not belong to your people Israel but has come from a distant land because of your name – for men will hear of your great name and your mighty hand and your outstretched arm – when he comes and prays toward this temple, then hear from heaven, your dwelling place, and do whatever the foreigner asks of you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your own people Israel, and may know that this house I have built bears your Name. (1^st Kings 8.41-43, see also Metavista: Bible, Church and Mission in an Age of Imagination, 124.)

Few would question the legitimacy of the original purpose of the Temple, though, in examining its historical development, it could be argued that what Jesus was objecting to in the Temple was its “institutionalization.”

After the Israelites had been set free from Egypt by the hand of YHWH, they entered the wilderness wandering where the presence of their liberator God was experienced in the Tent of Meeting. Ultimately, however, the leaders of Israel sought a permanent place of worship, a goal realized during the reign of King Solomon.

Of particular interest for our study are the verses which imply a powerful missiological emphasis for the Temple. After questioning whether God would dwell on earth and later asserting that even the highest heavens cannot contain God, Solomon prays

[a]s for the foreigner who does not belong to your people Israel but has come from a distant land because of your name – for men will hear of your great name and your mighty hand and your outstretched arm – when he comes and prays toward this temple, then hear from heaven, your dwelling place, and do whatever the foreigner asks of you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your own people Israel, and may know that this house I have built bears your Name. (1st Kings 8.41-43)

Though this portion of Solomon’s prayer is both preceded and followed by requests for God’s special providence on behalf of His chosen people, we must also recognize the gravity of Solomon’s request. Solomon here offers a centripetal view of the Temple’s role in bringing other nations to the worship of YHWH. Wright notes further the significance of Solomon’s assumptions: “It is assumed that people will hear of the reputation of YHWH. It is assumed that people from afar will be attracted to come and worship Israel’s God for themselves. It is assumed that Israel’s God can and will hear the prayers of foreigners.” (The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative, 229)

Isaiah’s vision in the temple records a number of interesting similarities with Solomon’s perspective. He asserts

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphs, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another:
“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty;
the whole earth is full of his glory.” (Isaiah 6.1-3)

In this now familiar text, Isaiah asserts that even in the midst of the temple, with the Lord “seated on a throne”, the seraphs were proclaiming one to another that the glory of YHWH is extended throughout the earth. A number of contemporary worship songs envisage this setting, encouraging worshippers to sing to God of His holiness, though this is quite different from what takes place in the text. In Isaiah’s account, it is the seraphs who are proclaiming God’s glory – and they are doing so one to another. Isaiah, conversely, responds in fear, until his sin is atoned for. This text is of even further missiological significance, however.

Isaiah recounts “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” Thus, Isaiah records an interaction with YHWH in the temple where he not only had a powerful “worship experience,” but was commissioned in faith to go out centrifugally to proclaim God’s message. Darrell Guder asserts “[t]hat Isaiah was unworthy was not an obstacle to the gracious self-disclosure of God, who called Isaiah into his service. In spite of his uncleanness, Isaiah could confess with that important ‘yet’ that he had seen God.” (The Continuing Conversion of the Church, 75) The content of Isaiah’s message, however, was not as hopeful as his call into service.

Isaiah’s proclamation, like many of the other Hebrew prophets, was a message of judgment. The Word of the LORD delivered by Jeremiah in front of the temple itself was quite similar:

Reform your ways and your actions, and I will let you live in this place. Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!” If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your forefathers for ever and ever. But look, you are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless. (Jeremiah 3.1-8)

Of particular interest here is Jeremiah’s assertion that God’s chosen people have begun to think of the temple as a fortress in which they can hide from the foreigner whom they have previously mistreated, an obvious divergence from Solomon’s prayer cited above. Furthermore, the Israelites are pictured as ignoring the needs of the fatherless and the widow, as well as treated one another unjustly. Still, forgiveness is available. J. Andrew Kirk insightfully notes

[s]ometimes the ‘prophetic voice’ is heard only as condemnation. But the announcement of judgement (sic) is also a word of graciousness, for the prophets always provide both a warning of the disaster that will happen if the people do not change and the opportunity to admit the fallacy of their policies, turn to God again and receive the blessing of doing his will. (What is Mission?: Theological Explorations, 113)

This dichotomy between social justice and the role of the Temple is not the only issue for the Hebrew prophets.The prophet Ezekiel asserts that the Israelites have trusted not only in deceptive words, but also detestable idols.

I myself am against you, Jerusalem, and I will inflict punishment on you in the sight of the nations. Because of all your detestable idols, I will do to you what I have never done before and will never do again. Therefore in your midst fathers will eat their children, and children will eat their fathers. I will inflict punishment on you and will scatter all your survivors to the winds. Therefore as surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, because you have defiled my sanctuary with all your vile images and detestable practices, I myself will withdraw my favor; I will not look on you with pity or spare you. (Ezekiel 5.8-11)

Indeed, in this scathing passage, God’s wrath is poured out upon His own chosen people in sight of the nations they had been empowered through Abraham to bless as well as the those whom Solomon had prayed would come to know God through their place of worship! Ironically, YHWH is pictured as scattering His people from Jerusalem (i.e. the Temple) and into exile because of the detestable idols and practices that filled His holy place.

Wright notes paradoxically, “the victory of Nebuchadnezzar was not a victory over YHWH, but a victory of YHWH… With the Lord on their side, Jerusalem could not be destroyed. With the Lord against them, Jerusalem could not be defended.” (Wright, Christopher J.H. The Mission of God, 96) A similar passage from the prophet Micah envisions God judging the Israelites from within the Temple they had defiled. (see Micah 1.1-7)