Charles Ellicott Commentary


Charles Ellicott Commentary
"And Jesus entered into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of he money-changers, and the seats of them that sold the doves;" — Matthew 21:12 (ASV)
And Jesus went into the temple — Here, again, there is a gap to be filled from another Gospel. Mark (Mark 11:11) says definitely that on the day of His solemn entry, He went into the temple, looked round about on all things there—that is, at the scene of traffic and disorder described in this verse—and then, the evening-tide being come (or, “the hour being now late”), went back to Bethany and did what is narrated here on the following day. So, with a similar difference in order, Mark places the sentence on the barren fig tree on the next morning, before the cleansing of the temple (compare the note on Matthew 21:17). John (John 2:13–25) records a similar act occurring at the beginning of our Lord’s ministry, on His first visit to Jerusalem after His baptism.
Critics who assume that the repetition of such an act was impossible have therefore inferred that the narrative has been misplaced by either the three Synoptic writers or by John. Some side with John and some with the Synoptics, on grounds that are more or less arbitrary. From a purely human historical point of view, I believe we may accept both narratives as true. If Jesus of Nazareth had been only a patriotic Jew, filled with an intense enthusiasm for the holiness of the temple, what would be more likely than for Him to begin His work with a protest against its desecration? If the evils He protested against reappeared in all their enormity after being suppressed for a time, what would be more probable than for Him to renew the protest at this stage of His work, backed as He now was by the people's equal enthusiasm?
What would be more natural, again, than for the second cleansing to revive the memory of the first, bringing to mind the words recorded by John (and not by the Synoptics) which served as the basis for the charge that He had threatened to destroy the temple (John 2:20–21; Matthew 26:61; Mark 14:58)? There is—it cannot be concealed—a real difficulty in the Synoptics’ omission of the earlier cleansing and in John’s lack of any reference to the later one. However, this fact in either case is just one of many similar facts related to the structure of the Gospels. The three Synoptic writers knew nothing—or rather, they record nothing—about our Lord’s ministry in Jerusalem before this final entry. John, writing a Gospel to supplement either the Synoptics or the current oral teaching they embodied, systematically passes over what they had recorded (with one or two notable exceptions). He confines his work to reporting specially selected incidents with marvelous vividness and fullness.
Cast out those who sold and bought in the temple — The apparent strangeness of allowing what seems to us such a manifest desecration was obviously not felt by the Jews as we feel it. Pilgrims came from all parts of the world to keep the Passover and to offer their sacrifices, sin-offerings, or thank-offerings, according to the circumstances of each case. They did not bring the victims with them. What plan, it might seem, could be more convenient than for them to find a market where they could buy victims as near as possible to the place where the sacrifice was to be offered? One of the temple courts was therefore assigned for this purpose, and the priests probably profited from the arrangement by charging a fee or rent for the privilege of holding stalls. There is no trace of this practice before the Captivity, but the later dispersion of the Jews naturally led people to feel the need for such an accommodation more keenly.
This permission, however, brought with it an inevitable sequel. The pilgrims brought the coinage of their own countries—Syrian, Egyptian, or Greek, as the case might be. This money was either not current in Palestine or, because it was stamped with symbols of pagan worship, could not be received into the Corban, or temple treasury. For their convenience, therefore, money-changers were needed, who of course made the usual agio, or profit, on each transaction. We must picture to ourselves not only the stir and bustle inseparable from such traffic, but also the wrangling, bitter words, and reckless oaths that necessarily grew out of it with a people like the Jews.
The history of Christian churches has not been without parallels that help us understand how such a desecration came to be permitted. Those who remember the state of London’s great cathedral, as depicted in the literature of the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras, will understand. Mules and horses laden with market produce were led through St. Paul’s as a matter of everyday occurrence; bargains were struck, burglaries planned, servants hired, and profligate meetings arranged and kept there. Such readers will feel that even Christian and Protestant England has hardly the right to cast a stone at the priests and people of Jerusalem.
And the seats of those who sold doves — The Greek has the article—“the doves”—that were such a familiar object in the temple courts. There is a characteristic feature in this incident when compared with the earlier cleansing. Then, apparently taking into account the less glaringly offensive nature of the traffic, our Lord had simply commanded the dealers in doves to depart with their stalls and birdcages (John 2:16). Now, as if indignant at their return to the desecrating work He had forbidden, He places them also under the same condemnation as the others.