Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica

Lectionary: 671

His disciples recalled the words of Scripture,

Zeal for your house will consume me.

His disciples recalled Psalm 69, verses 8-10:

For it is on your account I bear insult,

that disgrace covers my face.

I have become an outcast to my kindred,

a stranger to my mother’s children.

Because zeal for your house has consumed me,

I am scorned by those who scorn you.

The Gospel of Saint John describes even more intensely than the Synoptic Gospels, the crisis of Jesus. He does not and cannot fit into any institution, society or culture. Even when eager Christians attempt to create a monastery or Utopian society modeled strictly on the life and teachings of Jesus, his Spirit will challenge and upend their conventions.

The Temple in Jerusalem was modeled on Ezekiel's visions of the Heavenly Temple, and it must have suggested the ideal house of worship, but human failings crept into its daily life. The Jewish pilgrims who came from all parts of the world to worship came away with a tainted experience. Along with the aura of sanctity there was the soupçon of greed and the odor of avarice. Sometimes the reek was overwhelming.

Jesus' response was not simply an emotional outburst, though it may have been that. His outrageous behavior was a prophetic gesture. He did not expect the authorities to agree with his assessment and make immediate reforms. He knew that within hours of his one-man-riot the tables would be righted, the coins restacked, the pigeons recaged, the sheep and oxen recollected, and business would resume.

And he knew the same authorities would not forget. Some biblical scholars think this was the incident which sealed his fate. If they suspected him before, they hated him afterward. Jesus was a mortal threat to everything they stood for.

It's fascinating that the Church chooses this gospel story to celebrate the Lateran Basilica in Rome for, in many ways, Roman basilicas suggest the very establishment that Jesus apparently opposed. I visited some of them several years ago. I came away with the impression that Catholics in Rome identify more with the building than with the parish. As members of the church they belonged to that ancient edifice. But most American parishes have outlasted several church buildings. Their 19th century wooden buildings caught fire. The brick ones were too small. The parishioners dug deep in their pockets and built a new church even as they grieved the familiar old structure. American Catholics know the history of their parish, remembering its buildings, pastors and occasional catastrophes. Nowadays, they hope their building might be chosen to accommodate the parish mergers.

So here we are, November 9, 2018, once again celebrating a pile of stone in Rome with a story of Jesus' one-man-riot. The feast reminds us that his spirit must periodically upend our preconceptions about church and religion. Perhaps this old building, like the Temple in Jerusalem, can still receive the Son of David with the open arms and glad faces of Simeon and Anna. The Basilica of Saint John Lateran, which is practically prehistoric, reminds us that no one lives forever but God's inspiration will always renew the ever-ancient, ever-new Church. This Gospel reminds us we will always need the Lord to upset us periodically. Whatever we build will collapse of its own weight in time; God's rage will sometimes destroy the infrastructures we built but took for granted; and God's spirit will always inspire us to "Rebuild my church, which you can see has fallen into ruin."