Napalm Sunday

By David Kitchingman in All Sorts

a different take on Palm Sunday-waiving protest banners

Napalm Sunday
Hi Jo
Whoops? Let down by the spellchecker? It failed to warn me that it's Palm Sunday and always has been since around the fourth century. Yet two of the Gospels suggest that almost immediately after the event commemorated by Palm Sunday Jesus dropped a bombshell on the Temple in Jerusalem. Which of the two accounts - the donkey ride into the city or the explosive cleansing of the temple - would have been and still would be the more newsworthy? Surely it wouldn't take much media licence to re-christen the day as Napalm Sunday.
But did it really happen?
Even cautious experts (such as the Fellows of the Jesus Seminar) agree that Jesus demonstrated physically against the temple cult, probably against its commercialisation, and that he spoke critically of the temple bureaucracy. The general consensus is that John's Gospel is out of step in placing the incident near the very beginning of Jesus' ministry rather than at the beginning of Passion Week. Many scholars would even assign a higher level of authenticity to the cleansing of the temple than to the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Some go so far as to say that next to the manner of his death and his baptism by John this is the most reliably attested event in his entire life.
So what actually did he do?
That's not so clear. The logistics alone of such an operation in a crowded area covering many hectares and patrolled by temple police make the full story fairly improbable. How could one person, even if armed with a whip of cords (according to John), drive out all those who were buying, selling, or exchanging currency, and herd sheep and oxen out of the temple area? But, disregarding the likelihood of several embellishments in the story, the drama of some such happening and the very unexpectedness of it seem to have left an indelible impression on the early tradition.
And what did he say?
That may be even harder to pinpoint. According to Mark, he said, "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers." That's a conflation of Isaiah 56:7 and Jeremiah 7:11. But the evidence suggests that it was not Jesus' habit to make his points by quoting scripture, whereas the early church was much inclined to attribute scriptural quotations to him. What we seem to have here is a filtered version, but that doesn't detract from the overall evidence that Jesus was involved at some point in a highly symbolic demonstration and tense confrontation within the temple.
What was the effect at the time?
What might this incident have meant in terms of shaping the climax to the life of the temple cleaner? In a 2001 publication, Excavating Jesus: Beneath the Stones, Behind the Texts, John Dominic Crossan and Jonathon L. Reed wrote: "There are two major actions from Jesus' last week in Jerusalem either of which could have brought down on him the combined wrath of high priest and prefect, Caiaphas and Pilate... Of
these two dangerous incidents, the Entry and the Cleansing, the latter is more likely to be historical event rather than parabolic story... If, therefore, there was one specific event that led to Jesus' crucifixion, we think this the most likely recoverable incident."
It doesn't get much more pivotal than that. With this act Jesus had thrown down the gauntlet.
What effect might it have on how we think of Jesus?
Was he off his rocker? That's a question not often put to churchgoers. But it is not unreasonable to ask whether in this instance he might have lost his cool and erred by breaking his ethic of non-violence. Not so long ago someone who would be considered a "father" in our wider church remarked to me with genial confidence that it makes no sense to claim that Jesus was without sin. Now there's an assertion seldom presented in a church context, and not one that I'm going to take further right now. Let's just assume that whatever Jesus did and said on that fateful occasion was in keeping with the unmatched integrity that we have come to recognise in him. But one thing must be clear. We who were brought up on Charles Wesley's "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild" must ask ourselves if that's an adequate characterisation. Would "Daring Jesus, sharp and wild" be nearer the mark? If so, what was he wild about?
What was the standout issue?
There is some debate as to whether Jesus acknowledged the centrality of the temple or portrayed its pending destruction. Perhaps a measure of both. The Jerusalem temple was the prime focus not just for religious power but also for economic and political power. Its foundations stretched far back beyond Herod's construction. Jesus' act of defiance took place in the precincts surrounding the holy of holies where the Ark was enshrined. An upstart rabbi from Galilee had no right to even question its authority. But therein, paradoxically, might lie the key to understanding the significance of the event. Perhaps the sheer sense of sacred entitlement and inerrancy coupled with exploitation and corruption is what most needed to be challenged.
What now?
As I put these thoughts together a couple of news items percolated through to me. Yet another radio report on events at the Vatican, indisputably the apex of all that represents organised Christianity. Hope and despair in almost equal measure as Pope Francis grapples with his role. Then an email notice about a conversation to take place in St Paul's Cathedral on Wednesday 27 March with Hordur Torfason, the Icelandic activist who inspired his fellow citizens to take action after the economic crash of 2008, leading to the resignation of the entire government, the nationalisation of the banks, and the re-writing of the Icelandic constitution.
I don't expect "Napalm Sunday" to catch on, but it would be something if waving a protest banner against an injustice became as acceptable in Palm Sunday liturgy as waving a palm branch.