In Jerusalem's sacred space,
where Passover draws near,
Jesus enters the temple, his purpose crystal clear.
Oxen, sheep, and doves, a marketplace within,
Moneychangers' tables overturned, cleansing to begin.
With cords woven into a whip, he took a stand,
Driving out the merchants, with authority and command.
"Father's house, a marketplace, no more," he declared,
Zeal for divine sanctity, a fervor he bared.
Disciples, recalling Scripture, saw the zeal unfold,
As Jesus faced questions, his actions bold.
"What sign do you show?" the skeptical Jews inquired,
"Destroy this temple," Jesus spoke, his words inspired.
Forty-six years in construction, the temple stood,
Yet Jesus spoke of his body, misunderstood.
Raised from the dead, disciples found belief,
In Scripture and Jesus' words, a profound relief.
Passover witnessed signs, faith in his name,
Yet Jesus, discerning hearts, maintained a wary aim.
Human nature known, trust he would not lend,
For in his understanding, human flaws transcend.
🖉 KiruCarmel
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