Dismay lined his face as he surveyed the signs of neglect around him. Echoes of their fervent pledge rang in his ears. Irritation bubbled into frustration. They hadn’t kept it. At all. The promise that slipped easily from their lips in the emotional high of the moment had clearly been forgotten in the relentless grind of daily life. They had neglected the house of God. Not the physical one, necessarily, the spiritual one. The one that lived in their hearts and breathed through their lives. The house of God that should be exhibited in every word and action. It was disheartening. Distressing. Dismaying. It was also revealing. Highlighting how distracted they had become and how far they had strayed in his absence. It broke his heart. It also fired his temper. He hadn’t even been gone that long! Not nearly long enough for the people to forget his words or forsake their vow. Yet here he stood. Surveying the task before him, Nehemiah squared his shoulders and strode purposefully into the temple. (Nehemiah 10:30-39)
He would start there. Although many tasks called for his attention, none felt so pressing as throwing out that Ammonite, Tobiah! He was a troublemaker. An enemy of God and Israel. Rancid. Ridiculous. Joining with others, Tobiah had tried to stop the reconstruction of their walls. He had worked diligently against them. Going so far as to set up an attack on Nehemiah’s life. When those efforts failed, he found a way to wriggle into the Jewish community. Married his son to the daughter of a prominent Jewish family. Shook enough hands and kissed enough babies that no one raised an eyebrow when Eliashib cleaned out a room at the temple for him to inhabit. It was a disgrace! He had no business there. He needed to go. Now. Everything he had in that space had to go. His person. His possessions. His presence. Every area must be purified. Every corner. Every wall. Every floorboard. They needed the space for its intended use. It was a storeroom for contributions. Essentially, holding the daily bread for the temple staff. Shockingly, there wasn’t much to put back in. (Nehemiah 2:10, 19, 4:1-14, 6:1-14)
This was part of the broken promise. The unkept vow. The obvious neglect. The people had quit bringing in their tenths of grain, new wine, and fresh oil. In fact, supplies had become so scarce, the Levites and singers had been forced to go back to their fields and work to keep food on their tables, disrupting the flow of service in the temple. This was not the agreement. It wasn’t the requirement. It didn’t match the promise they had solemnly sworn. They had neglected the house of God. Not because they couldn’t afford to do so. Judging by the teeming Sabbath day farmer’s market happening in front of him, the people were doing quite well. Grain, wine, grapes, figs, and all manner of other goods flowed freely. The Tyrian fishmongers were doing a fine business. Perhaps that was why the stores in the temple were so depleted. The people had traded time with God for a sale at the local grocers.
It would cost them. If they didn’t get their minds back on track, they would stir up God’s anger against them. It was probably already simmering. So busy and settled were they among the foreign people, they overlooked the false gods. Maybe. Maybe they allowed them. Allowed their spouses, taken from the strange religions around them, to bring their idols into their homes. Maybe they thought they could handle it. Maybe they believed they could just ignore the idol and still be fine themselves. Maybe they thought it wouldn’t matter if the gods were in their homes as long as they still attended temple meetings. Maybe they just wanted to fit in with the people around them. The reason doesn’t matter. God’s law was clear. There could be no other gods. He alone was their God. By their careless mixing and mingling, they exhibited how little they learned from the life of King Solomon. He, too, had followed other gods, drawn to their altars by his love for foreign wives. They were in the same situation. Their sons had married pagan daughters. Their daughters had been given in marriage to pagan sons. The eyes of their hearts, blinded by their own desires, had set their sights on things of the world around them rather than on the things of God above.
Nehemiah wasn’t having it. Like a whirling dervish, he flew into the temple, throwing out furnishings and biting off orders. Satisfactorily finished there, he confronted the leaders of the people, sternly questioning why they had neglected the house of God. Why had they done the exact opposite of the promise they made? Once the officials had lined up the people to bring their required contributions to the storehouse, Nehemiah set his sights on the Sabbath farmer’s market, the people neglecting worship to sell and shop, those choosing to disconnect from God’s direct commands and deviate from their explicit promise. Fearing the wrath of God on His children for their disobedience, Nehemiah rebukes and removes the sellers. And the buyers. This isn’t a time for business. It’s a time for worship. Tomorrow will be another day for shopping and selling. Today was a day of rest for their bodies and worshipping God. Focusing on Him. Checking their own hearts and lives for earthly distractions that would disengage their souls from following their God.
The introspection might save them. In those quiet moments of soul evaluation, they could look at their lives and determine where they were falling short. They could see where they had let up, let go, given in, given up. Through enlightened eyes, they could see the damage their earthly distractions were causing. They could see where they had lowered their standards. They could recognize the areas of mediocrity and complacency. They could acknowledge their sins and shortcomings, their faults and failures. They could repent and reconcile with Almighty God. It was Nehemiah’s deepest hope as he cleared the temple and purified the people–that they would not neglect the house of God. Physically or spiritually. (Nehemiah 13)
It wouldn’t be the last time the temple was cleansed. Centuries later, at a time when the people were again neglecting and misappropriating the house of God, Jesus came. Angry at the abuse and misuse of His Father’s house, Jesus made a whip out of cords and entered the temple grounds on holy business. Cracking that whip in the air overhead, He drove out the oxen and sheep awaiting sale and slaughter, sending their owners scurrying after them. Approaching the money changers, He unceremoniously dumped drawers and flipped tables. Coins rolled in a hundred directions, sending their keepers scrambling. People darted, dodging racing animals, rolling coins, and flying tables. Dove marketers grabbed their cages and fled the scene. In the background, Jesus was heard roaring, “My Father’s house is a place of prayer and worship. For everyone. Jews. Gentiles. All people. Everywhere. This is not a commercial space. It is sacred. Stop treating it like the local farm auction!” (Mark 11:15-18; Luke 19:45-47: John 2:14-16; Matthew 21:12-13)
Somewhere between the creation of the Old Testament temple and the book of Acts, the house of God for His people becomes the church of God in His people. It is not a stationary structure of white siding, steepled roof, and stained glass windows. It is not expansive campuses with spaces for every imaginable event. It is not big screens, QR codes, or bands vibrating the seats with throbbing bass. It is not a place from which we come and go. The church of God is not a building at all. It isn’t tangible. The true church of God is in His people. Everything God stands for, His laws and ordinances, His promises and pathways, should show in how we live our lives. Choices. Words. Actions. Reactions. How we live every day tells the world if we truly belong to God or if we simply claim His name while remaining distracted and enamoured by the things of the world around us.
I wonder what truths our actions are speaking today. As we meddle and gossip, and embellish the truth. We forcefully declare our uneducated opinions. As we follow our own paths, speak our own truths, be true to ourselves alone. As we chase down the self-serving, self-important, self-exalting things of our society. As we wildly strive to be known and loved and honored by the people around us rather than resting in the limitless love and acceptance of Jesus Christ. As we give way to the verbiage and ideas of the world that soft pedal sin and short-sell God. I wonder what the actions of God’s church are telling the congregation of unbelievers today. Because they are watching. (Deuteronomy 18:9, 4:9-31; I John 2:15; Ephesians 4;29; James 1:26; Romans 6;16)
Whether or not you realize or believe it, the world is watching the church. They are watching to see what happens when the evil one walks among us, attempting to sow discord, discontent, and disagreement. They are monitoring our reactions to world events, political posturing, and social unrest. They are examining our actions and reactions to unpleasant circumstances and situations beyond our control. They are listening to our words of fear, anger, envy and arrogance. They are watching where we turn and what we do in joy and sorrow, triumph and loss. And they are waiting. Waiting to see if the tenants of our faith hold. Does our confidence really rest in God? Do we draw our strength from Him? Are we completely dedicated to following Him or are we easily swayed by the social popularity contests of our day? When we vowed not to neglect the house of God, the law of God, our life in God, did we mean it? Are we keeping it? The world will know. Because they are watching. (Colossians 4:5-6)
Admittedly, as I look at the church of our day, I can’t help but feel we are in need of a temple cleansing, too. A time of intense introspection and scrutinization where we measure what we promised to be and do and follow against who we are, what we are doing, and who we are truly following. A moment in which we are brutally honest with ourselves about who we are trying to please. Our God or our peers. A day of self-examination, of heart extermination, when we repent of the earthly distractions that have turned our heads and drawn our hearts aside, leaving us wallowing in a pool of our own mediocrity. A time when we can be reconciled and restored to the place we were when we first decided to follow Jesus. An hour, a minute, a day, when we fall to our knees and ask God to make us His church. Completely. The way He wants us to be. People of whom He could never be ashamed. Spotless. Blameless. Perfect. Without wrinkle. Before God. In front of the world. Because they are watching. (Ephesians 5:27; II Corinthians 13:5; Joshua 23:6; James 1:23-24; Matthew 7:21-23)