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TITLE: Profanity -- Not Just Words SCRIPTURE: John 2:13-22
It was Passover, a holy time.
In normal times, Jerusalem was a city of 50,000 people -- not very large by our standards.
But during Passover, when Jewish pilgrims crowded into the city, the population would triple.
To get an idea how crowded the city must have been, imagine the population of (your city) tripling for a week.
Where would everyone stay?
Where would they eat?
How many Porta-Potties would we need?
How many police?
How much emergency medical support?
The logistics would be staggering.
I saw an article about Myrtle Beach, South Carolina written during "Myrtle Beach Bike Week."
Myrtle Beach has a year-round population of about 25,000 people, but during Bike Week 300,000 bikers came to town.
I tried to picture taking a trip there at that time.
Join with me on this imaginary journey.
We didn't known about Bike Week.
We were just driving through town.
We began to notice motorcycles when we were still 50 or 60 miles (80-100 km) from town.
The further we went, the more motorcycles we saw.
Then we saw motorcycles parked in a field along the road -- hundreds of them.
The closer we got to Myrtle Beach, the thicker the motorcycle traffic.
When we finally got there, there were motorcycles everywhere.
Motel signs blinked, "Bikers, welcome!"
There was a river of motorcycles on the main street --motorcycles in motion -- moving in both directions -- thousands of them.
I had never seen anything like it.
We found a pizza joint, and sat at an outdoor table watching that river of motorcycles go by in both directions.
It really was like watching a river flow.
They just kept coming.
There was never a break.
It was fascinating.
I loved it -- the roar of the motors--the beautiful bikes -- the not so beautiful bikers.
It was amazing!
Jerusalem must have been a little like that during Passover -- minus the motorcycles and bikers, of course.
It must have been an incredible happening -- people shoulder to shoulder -- trying to find places to sleep -- building fires to cook their dinner -- a hundred thousand pilgrims crowding into the city to celebrate Passover.
It must have been like a street fair.
You've been to those -- tent-booths selling hot dogs or wood carvings.
People everywhere!
Vendors making lots of money -- but only for a day or two.
But for all the excitement, Passover wasn't like the Myrtle Beach Bike Week -- or the New York Auto Show -- or the Strawberry Festival -- or the Buckwheat Festival.
Those are parties where people come and to have fun -- and to make money.
Passover was a religious holiday.
People came to Jerusalem to remember their religious heritage -- and to honor God.
Passover had its roots in the Exodus.
You remember the story of Moses and Pharaoh.
Moses said, "Let my people go!" but Pharaoh said "No!" Then came the Ten Plagues.
The waters of the Nile turned to blood.
There were frogs -- and gnats -- and flies -- and dying livestock -- and boils -- and hail -- and locusts.
Then there was darkness -- God's last warning before the last and most terrible plague.
The tenth plague was the death of the firstborn in every house.
But the firstborn of the Israelites didn't die.
God told them to sacrifice lambs and to spread the blood of the lamb on their doorposts.
Seeing the blood, the death angel passed over their homes.
That's where they got the name Passover -- the death angel passed over their homes.
Their firstborn did not die.
So every year, Israel observed Passover.
They ate unleavened bread and sacrificed a Passover lamb.
They remembered the time when God set them free from slavery.
In Jesus' day, they came to Jerusalem.
They came by the thousands and tens of thousands.
They came from everywhere.
When Jesus went to Jerusalem for Passover, he found people selling cattle and sheep and doves in the temple.
It hadn't always been that way.
People needed to buy animals to sacrifice, but they didn't need to buy them inside the temple.
Cattle and sheep are pleasant animals to look at as they graze in a field.
That's the closest that most people get to cattle and sheep these days.
We get our meat shrink-wrapped in the supermarket.
Someone else does our dirty work for us.
But when you get cattle and sheep inside a building, it's a different matter.
They are large animals, and they eat a lot.
Just keeping them fed would require lots of hay and water.
Then -- how shall I put this --nobody ever figured out how to potty-train a cow.
If you have ever visited a barn with lots of cows inside, you will understand the problem.
The bottom line is that these animals had no business being in the temple.
They profaned that holy place.
And then there were the money-changers.
People needed their services too, but they didn't need them to be inside the temple.
So the problem was that these people were guilty of profaning the temple -- of making improper use of a holy place.
So Jesus made himself a whip and began driving the animals out of the temple.
Along the way, he overturned the tables of the moneychangers.
He said:
"Take these things out of here!
Stop making my Father's house a marketplace."
When I read this scripture, I asked myself, "What does this have to do with us? Are we guilty of profaning the holy in our midst?"
The answer, of course, is "Yes!"
We do profane the holy in our midst.
I could mention any number of examples:
- Christmas is one.
I don't need to tell you about the problems there.
For many people, Christmas has become an orgy of spending in an attempt to meet needs that can't be satisfied with money.
We all too often profane Christmas -- take something Godly and cheapen it.
- Marriage is another example.
Some Christians consider marriage to be a holy sacrament.
Other Christians, who might not call it a sacrament, would nevertheless, call it holy.
But forty percent of marriages today end in divorce.
All too often, even Christian men and women walk away when the romance fades.
We have all too often profaned marriage -- have taken something Godly and cheapened it.
Don't get me wrong.
There are times when divorce is unavoidable.
When someone is trapped in a marriage with an abusive or alcoholic spouse, divorce might be the best of the unhappy choices.
But divorce should never be an easy solution -- one that we take lightly.
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