exchange, the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep, the shouting as the animals were driven here and there, all the uproar of a huge market in which the purchasers numbered many thousands, was a daily profanation of this sacred Court, the only place open to the Gentiles when they came to the Temple for prayer.
Time after time our Lord had seen this desecration of His Father's House when He came up to worship. He came now, not as a worshipper only but as an Avenger of His Father's glory.
For a moment He looked around. Then, picking up from the pavement some bits of cord lying about, He twisted them into a scourge, and with uplifted arm came suddenly upon the traders and their merchandise, and drove them all out of the Temple, the sheep also and the oxen, and the money of the changers He poured out, and the tables He overthrew. And to them that sold doves He said:
"Take these things hence and make not the House of My Father a house of traffic."
Imagine the scene—the flight of the dealers and the changers; the terror of the beasts which broke loose and rushed right and left; the panic and cries of the crowd; on every side silver shekels rolling and lying, no one daring to pick them up, as men, women and children fled before Him. No need for Him to use the scourge. It was the Divine indignation of His eye that drove them forward. His disciples remembered that it was written: "The zeal of Thy House hath eaten Me up." Yet, even in His zeal He was kind. Whilst scourge in hand He drove the beasts, He stayed His hand before the caged doves. The timid, gentle things He would not frighten. He only said to those who sold them: "Take these things hence."
