This Third Sunday of Lent has the theme of man’s sin and God’s forgiveness. A secularist would find problem with the idea of ‘sin’ but wouldn’t necessarily worry too much about the idea of social offences and crimes against fellow humans or cruelty to animals and the environment. Such offences and crimes are what the sacred institutions call sin. We often say the same thing in different languages. It does not matter so much what it is called; the idea is that humans should be obliged to act with justice and fairness, ensuring that the rights of others are never infringed upon. Whatever is held valuable has got in it a sense of sacredness. To violate this is, often, to offend God and/or the sensitivity of others. These are the basic teachings of Christianity, outlined in its laws and doctrines, summarised in the love of God and neighbour.

Magna Carta, of which Lord Denning once described as “the greatest constitutional document of all times – the foundation of the freedom of the individual against the arbitrary authority of the despot” marked its 800th anniversary this year, 2015. This Great Charter, is widely cited for inspiring values of many societies over the centuries. But such masterpiece of social, economic and political ethics has primarily been inspired by Christian values over the centuries. Religion has been, and can still be, a force for good in human relationship.

The first reading today talks about the ten commandments, that body of laws that often sounds like a huge mountain to surmount. But these commandments are common norms of life which rule our hearts and consciences. Let’s take a look again at the book of Exodus today. This passage, the ten commandments, is divided into two parts. The first three is about God and the last seven is about our fellow humans and their belongings. The numbers 3 and 7 are symbolic numbers in the Hebrew bible as well as the New Testament. Three times Jesus would ask Peter, “Do you love me?” (Jn 21:17) Also, “Seventy Seven times” Jesus would reply Peter about the need to forgive your neighbour very often. (Matt 18:22) That’s what God’s law is about: the reality of human shortcoming, love and forgiveness.

In the gospel the humanity of Jesus clashes with that of his fellow humans. The people give offence, while Jesus takes offence. The people provoke, while Jesus reacts. It is typical of the God-Human drama: man offends God and he reacts and corrects man. This happens in the temple, a symbol of the place of encounter between humans and the divine. Being fully human and fully divine, where does Jesus lean more in this clash? Humanity and its secular inclination or divinity and its sacred affinity? He was clear about his position – my Father’s house shall be a spiritual house – a house of prayer, not a market place.

His Father’s house, the temple, is actually his own body. He gives them a sign by challenging them to go ahead and destroy this body and ‘in three days I will raise it up’. This prefigures his death and resurrection. The difference between Jesus’ body and ours is the Spirit in him capable of raising his own body and ours as well. In this lies his power and authority to turn things upside down in the temple of encounter with humans. This is both the miracles the Jews demand and the wisdom the Greeks seek; summarised in the cross and resurrection of Jesus.