money

Focusing on the account of Jesus cleansing the temple, I wanted to write from a somewhat different point of view.  I wondered what it would have been like to have been there that day – to have been one of the moneychangers whose table was overturned.  I wanted to write from inside the thoughts of one of those men right as the whole event was taking place.  I wanted to capture feeling indignant, angry, frantic to pick up what had just been dumped over and lost.  It is a stream of consciousness writing going back and forth between looking for lost coins and the sights and sounds of Jesus in the temple.  It is an account of  being in the temple but missing God.

This is the attempt:

Dumped!  Overturned!  My money rolled upon the uneven stones, stuck in the gaps.  I must gather it up, take back what is mine before anyone else siezes it.

How dare He??  This Man of anger and tricky words.  And now He lets those people in here – the blind, the lame.  How could He allow ones with defects into this Holy place?

Oh….where is my money?  I work hard for it.  I provide a service and make a good living.  Does God fault me for that?  I must find my coins…count them carefully as I drop them into my pouch.

What is that I hear?  Children?  Shouting in the temple?  This building is a reverent place – no place for the exuberance of children!  This is a place for worship.

A “den of robbers”?  What?  I am a business man – going about my business.  Stop being over-dramatic.  Of course this is where I set up shop; it is a lucrative spot.

He is healing people now.  How dare He?  This unrefined bumpkin.  He obviously knows nothing about the religious ways.  And how stupid – He charges nothing for His services.

Ahh…I think I have them all now.  Each coin tucked safely in my belt.  I enjoy them jingling as I walk home.  This Preacher has cost me much money today.  Hopefully He will be gone…

and tomorrow the temple will return to business as usual.

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