Lent 1
February 22, 2026
The
Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the
temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves and the money changers
seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out
of the temple, with the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of
the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were
selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s
house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal
for your house will consume me.” The Jews then said to him, “What sign can
you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple,
and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews then said, “This temple
has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in
three days?” But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he
was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and
they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.
When
he was in Jerusalem during the Passover festival, many believed in his name
because they saw the signs that he was doing. But Jesus on his part would
not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one
to testify about anyone, for he himself knew what was in everyone.
Jesus showed up at the Super Bowl. Maybe you saw him. It was somewhere between the hot chicken wing dip and the cheesesteak sloppy joes. The television advertisement showed a series of images of people wanting more: more money, more toys, more possessions, more pleasure. Then the words pop up: “There’s more to life than more. What if Jesus shows us how to find it?” And the tag line: “He gets us.”
The advertising campaign has been running for a few years now. It targets big events like the Super Bowl. The people behind it are in the shadows, but the stated intent is clear. “He Gets Us is a campaign to invite people to consider Jesus and why he matters today.”[1] It’s a wonderful intention. Some anonymous group is spending millions of dollars to advertise the Lord on high-profile sports events. And the connection is Jesus knows who we are.
According to the Gospel of John, however, that’s not necessarily a good thing.
In the story we heard today, Jesus begins his ministry by storming into the Jerusalem Temple. He flipped the tables, chased the merchants out of the temple, made whips, and shooed out the animals. “Stop making my Father’s house a shopping mall!”[2] Yes, it’s not about more, not about buying and selling, especially in the sacred building.
Then John lowered the boom. “Jesus did not entrust himself to them. He knew all people. He knew what was in everyone.” He knew what was in us. Here, on the first Sunday of Lent, it’s worth asking what he knows.
Maybe he knows what the book of Genesis knows. That we are born from the imagination of God, created for companionship, and placed in a lush garden – and it’s never enough. We reach for what we do not have. We have difficulty trusting what God provides. We hunger for wisdom and settle for a bite from an apple. And when our eyes are opened, we hide in shame. The Bible knows us.
When the rabbis would teach the Garden of Eden story, they often did so without judgment. They would say, “Just look at who we are.” Pushing against our limits, for better or worse. Wanting to know God’s secrets, without any sense of the consequences. Willing to lose our innocence, unaware of what that means. And we have never outgrown that ancient story. Oh, he knew what was in us.
What did Jesus know? According to John’s Gospel, he knew everything. He knew when it was time to act and when it wasn’t. He knew how long people had been ill or disabled. He knew whatever he was going to do and how he would do it. John says he even knew who was going to betray him, and when, and how. He knew when it was time to go, and he knew to send his Spirit after he departed. The fourth Gospel portrays Jesus as completely omniscient, from the Latin combination of “omni” and “knowledge.” All knowing.
So, he knew what was going on in Jerusalem. The Temple was the meeting place between God and the human family. This was holy ground. Life events were marked. God-given successes were to be thanked. Sins were to be confessed and forgiven. Relationships were to be renewed and restored. Every one of these events was to be marked by a sacrificial animal.
Yet you couldn’t simply walk in with your family goat. The goat had to be pure, so the goat had to be inspected. You had to pay somebody to inspect it. If the goat didn’t pass inspection, you needed to get another goat. Fortunately, there were goats for sale out in the courtyard. They were temple-ready goats, which meant they were already inspected and pre-approved. That meant they were going to be more expensive. Someone had to raise the goat, take care of the goat, feed the goat, and inspect the goat, and that took some money.
And then if you decided to buy the goat, rather than take your own imperfect goat back home, you could not reach into your purse and pull out your shekels. The temple did accept the shekels. You had to use temple money. So, you had to cash in your shekels for some temple money. Fortunately, there were people set up to do the trade. And they expected to be compensated, of course. They weren’t going to do it for free. For all we know, they might have had to pay a fee in order to set up their money-changing table. The temple wasn’t going to let anybody change shekels into temple money. They had to be approved, I’m sure.
See what was going on? All you wanted to do was go to the temple to pray. To thank God for a new child. To celebrate an abundant harvest. To offer a sacrifice for the cancellation of sins. And the whole time, it was costing you a lot of money. You thought the covenantal love of God was free, right? But to get official access to that covenantal love, somebody was going to hit you up for access fees. An emporium, to be sure.
It’s like those horror stories some of us have heard from various religious communities. A man and his wife have a baby. They ask the man’s brother to be the godparent. He is deeply honored. He willingly goes to sign the paperwork. And then the guy in charge says, “How do I know you will be a good godparent?” Well, I will take responsibility for the little guy’s spiritual instruction.
Then the guy in charge says, “Well, how will I really know you will be a good godparent?” Then the truth dawns. Then the potential godparent says, “Uh, do you take Venmo, PayPal, or personal check?”
Just one more example of what Jesus knows is in us. Someone always wants to turn access to God into Pay-Per-View. So, we can understand why Jesus says, “Tear this Temple down. If you want access to God, you have me instead.” He is the New Temple, the living Meeting Place where God encounters the human family. And he knows us. Not only knows us – he knows what is in us.
And from the Bible story, we get a second piece of prevailing human temperament. The Temple Keepers of Jesus’ time yelled at him for what he was doing. “What sign do you have for doing this? Give us a sign?” They want a sign. They want a signatory miracle. They want him to prove he has the authority to destroy the merchandising system that they have put in place. After all, the gold has to be shined up, the silver must be polished, the clergy have to be well-fed, and someone must be employed to sweep up the cigarette butts in the courtyard. “Show us a sign. Give us a miracle.”
Like King Herod once sang to the Superstar, “So if you are the Christ, the great Jesus Christ, prove to me that You're no fool, walk across my swimming pool.”[3]
Jesus won’t give them any such thing. Miracles are gifts, not demands. Miracles will not be manipulated as weapons. Miracles do not have a lot of staying power, since they are usually once-and-done. Most of all, miracles are widely misunderstood.
Remember that wedding party in Cana, in the story right before this one? Jesus gave them a sign, a quiet sign. And all the drunks said, “Wow, this is the best Manischewitz we’ve ever tasted. And look how much more of it there is! Why were they holding out on us?” They did not get it. They didn’t comprehend – because that is what is in us. It is the same lapse as that is in Adam and Eve and all of their children: the incomplete understanding of the generosity of God. And they demand what is not theirs to demand.
“Give us a sign.” The sign he gives them is himself. “Destroy this temple and I will lift it up in three days.” They did not understand. Therefore, says the writer of John, “Jesus did not entrust himself to them…because they knew what was in them.” And what was that? Well, I can’t say yet, but we have six more weeks of Lent to figure that out.
What I can say is it’s a relief to know that we are known. Don’t need to fake who we are. You don’t need to hide behind a couple of fig leaves. Don’t need to put on airs or charge people admission to see God. If there is good news today, it is that Jesus knows us and doesn’t run away in horror. No. He chooses to draw near. He chooses to engage. He chooses to reveal just enough truth that we have to keep working on what it means.
This is how we grow up in the faith. This is how we learn to trust. Not by demanding that grace should pour out of the faucet – but by praying to see the grace that is already up to our ankles. There is goodness and truth and access to God, for Christ has given himself as the sign. He has been raised up on the cross to take our sins away. He is raised up in power to be completely accessible to all. Because he knows what is in us. He knows us.
Have you ever thought what a powerful gift it is to have somebody who knows you? This is the truth of where the Gospel begins, perhaps in its deepest expression in one of the psalms, Psalm 139. To hear it fresh, this is how Eugene Peterson translated some of it:
God,
I’m an open book to you;
even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
I’m never out of your sight.
You know everything I’m going to say
before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you’re there,
then up ahead and you’re there, too—
your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
I can’t take it all in!
Is
there any place I can go to avoid your Spirit?
to be out of your sight?[4]
The answer, of course, is nowhere. There is nowhere we can escape God. There is nowhere we can hide. God knows us. And he comes because of it, in spite of it, and beyond it – for God loves a corrupt world so much that he sends Jesus into it. He knew what was in us. That’s why he comes. That is good news.
[1] From www.HeGetsUs.com.
[2] The Greek word is “emporion,” or “Emporium.”
[3] Andrew Lloyd Webber, “Herod’s Song”
in Jesus Christ Superstar.
[4] Eugene Peterson, The Message,
portion of Psalm 139.
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