
The Cleansing of the Modern Temple
And it came to pass that the people journeyed daily to the temple of commerce, where the priests of money sat behind high tables. Upon those tables lay coins that lost their weight, and notes that lost their worth, for the priests decreed the measure of value by their own hand.
The pilgrims brought their labor, their savings, their bread for their children. But before they could enter the marketplace of life, the money changers demanded their toll: interest for the poor, abundance for the rich. And the house that should have been for the good of all had become a den where the few grew fat.
Then a voice arose in the courts, saying: โYou have turned the temple of human flourishing into a market of bondage. You bind men with chains of debt, you debase their earnings with false scales, you lay burdens you do not bear yourselves. My Fatherโs house is not a mint for thieves, nor a treasury for kings alone.โ
And lo, the tables shook. Some coins rolled into the dust, never to be gathered again. And among the people there spread a new kind of coin, not struck by kings nor weighed upon deceitful scales. It was written upon no parchment of decree, but upon a chain of truth that none could alter. Its number was fixed, its promise plain, its door open to all who would enter.
Some mocked, saying, โWhat is this token? It has no master, no priest to bless it.โ Yet others heard, and their eyes were opened. They saw that the temple need not belong to the money changers, nor the scales to the counterfeiters. They saw that value could dwell with the people once more, free as the wind, incorruptible as fire.
And the word went out: The tables shall not stand forever. The cords are already woven. The house will be cleansed again.
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