There's a lot going on in this passage. Jesus is fulfilling prophecy by riding a donkey into Jerusalem (Zech. 9:9). He is declaring, "I am the long-awaited Messiah - Savior." The crowds are cheering. This popular preacher, healer, miracle-worker has enamored the crowd.

All the while, Jesus knows why he's come to Jerusalem. He's come to die. And nothing precipitates, even causes, his death more than his premeditated, angry cleansing of the Temple. This overt act of aggression against the ruling religious authorities probably did more to quicken the conspiracy to have Jesus killed than all of his controversial teaching. You'll notice in his trial that no one accuses Jesus on those grounds. Why? Perhaps his temple cleansing was justifiable, and even the religious authorities knew it.

So why is Jesus so angry? Why this display of outrage? Gentle Jesus? Peacemaking Jesus? Turn the other check Jesus turning over tables?

Luke's version of the story is pretty vague. Mark says (11:15) that Jesus drove out the people buying and selling; He overturned the tables of the moneychangers and the benches of those selling doves; He even cut off the flow of merchandise through the temple courts; and all the while, Jesus cried out, "My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations. But you have made it a den of robbers."

There's no way to soften this. Jesus is creating a huge stir; a public nuisance. A spectacle. He's angry. Why?

First, His Father's house is besmirched. This temple, built to the honor of God, is overrun with greed and deceit and abuse. Even thought Jesus knows that the paradigm is shifting, and that the shekinah (condensed presence) of God would dwell in human temples, from this time forward, still this is outrageous. Is nothing sacred?

Second is the particular form of greed, deceit and abuse. The temple workers were robbing the poor. As ordinary people brought animals to be sacrificed as an offering to God, the animals had to be the best of the flocks or herd. Temple inspectors would find flaws and force people to purchase "temple grown" animals, at inflated prices. Meanwhile, if the poor had no animal to sacrifice, they could purchase doves at inflated prices. All the while, the temple had its own currency, so pilgrims from all over would come to the money changers to get an exchange. The exchange, scholars believe, was not a favorable one. All in all, the temple keepers were taking advantage of religious zeal to extort money at every turn.

There are, two obvious things to make Jesus angry, and they're tied to a third. First is the blatant dishonoring of His Father. He's protective about His Father. Second is the abuse of power. Jesus, as we know is a great fan of underdogs. The third thing that makes Jesus angry is hypocrisy, especially when it's exercised by religious leaders - people like me; like many of us. People who could and should know better but don't practice what we preach. These people are given a trust!

The entirety of Matthew 23 is devoted to Jesus' tirade against religious hypocrites.

Jesus, tell us how you really feel!

The contrast is so stark between the folksy, grace-laced stories and encounters and these angry words of woe. And the contrast is stark between Jesus' temple cleansing and the mealy-mouthed, wimpy version of Jesus that has too often found its way into our artwork and our imaginations. Jesus was construction worker turned preacher, and He wasn't the least bit afraid of confrontation. He goes after the big dogs and pounds away at them until they have to choose sides. Either they receive His words and repent and change or they have to get rid of the guy.

Now, let's pause here and unplug any notion that Jesus' table-turnings and tirades are aimed at Judaism. Sadly, great harm has been done for centuries by angry so-called Christians as a weird payback to Judaism. No, Jesus, I believe, would turn over our tables, too, if He believed that we were hypocrites, dishonoring God, practicing deceit and extortion and abusing power to the detriment of the poor. We've been given a trust!

So, we've been talking each week about Christ-likeness. We've been asking, "What about Christ do I need to be more like?" This week, it's the anger. I believe we need more anger - more justified anger, some call it righteous anger; or prophetic angst. I call it ADVOCACY ANGER. Passionate, focused, well-channeled outrage on behalf of God or someone who matters to God.

Okay, quick, let's put this in balance. The whole counsel of scripture calls us to be peacemakers. Proverbs tells us that anger stirs dissension. James says we should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger. Yes, when that anger is selfish and defensive and out of control, it does harm to us and others. Even when it's harbored as bitterness, anger does harm to our inner lives. Anger eats us up, it brings out the worst in us and spills out, wreaking other lives. Everything about Jesus says that we must learn the art of forgiveness and that grace and mercy and peace should characterize our lives.

Okay, that's the balancing statement. Now back to good anger. We need more advocacy anger.

Someone might ask, "You mean more righteous anger?' No, I don't like that phrase as much. It seems like you have to be righteous to wear righteous anger well, or else it just looks like righteous indignation or glowering condemnation or …judgment…come to think of it, the very kind of thing that makes Jesus angry. In other words, if we throw around righteous anger, we're likely to look like Pharisees ourselves. And this is what we do - we pick our favorite rule to harangue about and we get all worked up at those people who break the rule.

Here's the kicker, of course. What makes Jesus angry is people who get all worked up about sinner without owning up to our own abuses and deceits. "If you're going to take the speck out of our brother's eye, first take the log out of your own eyes…"

"Judge not lest you be judges, for with the judgment you pronounce, you will be judged." Jesus said that. But he also got rather worked up about a certain cast of sinners - the ones who look all clean and white on the outside, but on the inside are full of dead men's bones. I don't want to be like one of those; someone who looks great on the outside, but inside is a mess.

So how do we know the difference between good, advocacy anger and bad, belligerent anger?

Advocacy anger is on behalf of another. It's born out of compassion and conscience. Belligerent anger is self-concerned, defensive or simply born out of our quick temper and irritability. Usually, it comes from wanting to control others, not help them.

Advocacy anger is likely born of the Holy Spirit, and therefore subject to the behavioral effects of the Holy Spirit's participation - like patience and self-control. By the way, don't think for an instant that Jesus was out of control or impatient when he cleansed the temple. He'd been waiting for a long time for the right moment and every turn of every table was the choreographed outcropping of perfect self-control. Jesus didn't lose it. He knew exactly what He was doing. Advocacy anger, born of the Spirit, will show the marks, or the fruits of the Spirit. Belligerent anger comes from the pit and smells like smoke. It's toxic - bad for us and bad for others.

By the way, we all have some of it. Now and then, there's a build up. Something gets jammed. We have a hard time forgiving. We become hypercritical. We really are hurt badly and don't know how to honestly defend ourselves or get over the hurts. We get tired and irritable. Pain dampens our spirits. We have regrets. We suffer great losses or disappointments. We get angry.

That stuff has to be dealt with in healthy ways or it will hurt us and spill onto others. We need less of that anger, not more.

I've told you before that I've had seasons when anger just seemed to build up and spurt out. Sometime, it's splashed all over referees on the basketball court, and while that seems harmless, I've embarrassed myself more than once, and it caused me to ask, "What toxic buildup is bubbling under the surface that would make me want to pick on a poor, blind referee?" Other times, it's spilled out in critical moments with people I dearly love. Do we displace anger on those closest to us, trusting that they'll forgive us?

Oh, I know that some pop-psychologists are going to say that it's good to let out anger spray out all over people. The harm comes from holding it in, they say. Hogwash. The harm comes from holding it at all. We must learn how to let it go without crushing other people. And if relationships need confrontation, we need to learn to do confrontation well. And if someone is being hurt, harmed, or abused, get help; even an angry advocate.

And we need those. God needs advocates with passion. Different ones of us might get worked up over different kinds of abuses of trust, or abuses of power, or even abuses of religion. But that instinct toward advocacy anger is a good one. If I don't feel it now and then, perhaps my heart has grown cold or calloused or hard or…heartless.

Oh, it's easier not to care - easier to insulate our lives from the angst and energy that advocacy anger requires of us. But shutting ourselves off from caring means closing God out. It means turning a deaf ear to Spirit and conscience. It really means the death of our souls. I don't mean that eternally or theologically. Just …actually.

So, Lord, give us victory over the worst kinds of anger. Teach us to forgive. Heal us from past harm. Help us to let go of toxic bitterness. Show us how to do confrontation and reconciliation well. Then, Lord, light us up. Burn, fire, burn. Give us passion and a cause that's near to your Heart. Give us victory over apathy.