Then the Men: The Day the Temple Trembled
By Rich Bitterman
He didn’t come with a sermon that day. He came with a whip.
Not a parable. Strips of cord, twisted in silence, clenched in a carpenter’s fist.
And when He walked into the temple, the animals moved first. Then the men.
When Holiness Walks In
The clink of coins didn’t stop until it hit the stones. The sellers shouted. The doves flailed in their cages. But no one laid a hand on Him.
He didn’t shout. He didn’t hesitate.
He scattered them all.
Tables flipped. Cages cracked. Bulls bellowed. Men cursed and scattered. And in the chaos, Jesus—alone, unarmed—stood like judgment incarnate.
This wasn’t a cleansing. It was an invasion.
And the temple blinked first.
The Place Meant for Outsiders Was Closed to Them
They’d turned the only space Gentiles were allowed to pray into a marketplace. Foreigners came to whisper to God, but found goat dung and price tags.
A place for prayer had become a place for profit. The soft murmur of worship replaced by the rustle of money, the low of oxen, the bartering of flesh.
So He made a whip.
The Son of God did not quietly file a complaint.
He emptied the court.
He did not ask for permission.
Because the temple was His Father’s house.
And He would not let it be rented to thieves.
His Eyes Were Already on Golgotha
When they demanded a sign—Prove you have the right to do this!—He didn’t offer another miracle.
He spoke of death.
“Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”
They thought He was talking bricks and mortar. They laughed.
But He was already speaking of the cross.
They would tear Him down. Nail Him up. Bury Him in stone.
And He would rise. Not as a rebel. Not as a martyr. But as the new temple.
A place where anyone, Jew or Gentile, merchant or outcast, could finally meet God.
The Sign They Ignored Was the One That Would Save Them
The temple was still ringing from His footsteps. The coins hadn’t stopped spinning. And already they were asking for another sign.
That’s how unbelief works. It demands proof and closes its eyes.
He had just turned the temple upside down, and they asked Him to prove Himself.
They missed the sign. They missed the moment.
They missed the Messiah.
Jesus Doesn’t Trust Admiration
John tells us many believed because of the signs. But then he writes something that should make the boldest preacher tremble:
“But Jesus did not entrust Himself to them.”
They were impressed. He was not.
They saw His power but refused His path. They liked Him. Respected Him. But they didn’t come to Him.
And He knew. He knew what was in man.
He always knows.
Then One Man Came at Night
Nicodemus didn’t bring questions. He brought conclusions.
“Rabbi, we know You are a teacher come from God. No one could do these signs unless God is with him.”
He came in the dark, but something in him had already lit. The others watched from the crowd. Nicodemus stepped out from it.
And Jesus didn’t commend his courage. He cut to the core:
“Unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
You think you see, Nicodemus? You’ve got Scriptures memorized, laws engraved on your soul—but you’re still blind.
You Don’t Climb into the Kingdom
Jesus didn’t offer Nicodemus steps or strategies. He said: You need a new birth.
You didn’t birth yourself into this world. You won’t birth yourself into the next.
The Spirit moves like wind—you don’t control it, predict it, or bottle it. You can’t manufacture new life. It comes from above, or not at all.
But Jesus didn’t leave him in the mystery. He gave him a rope to grab:
“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him may have eternal life.”
This Isn’t About Understanding. It’s About Looking.
Nicodemus asked how. Jesus said, Look.
Not at yourself. Not at your efforts. Look at the One lifted up.
“For God so loved the world…”
You know the rest. But don’t let familiarity dull the thunder.
God didn’t send His Son to condemn the world. The world was already condemned. He came to rescue.
The light came. And men loved darkness.
Except some.
Some stepped out of the shadows and toward the flame.
And Nicodemus? He Didn’t Stay in the Dark
He came at night.
But later, he would defend Jesus in front of hostile men.
And after the crucifixion, while the disciples hid, Nicodemus stepped forward. He helped bury the broken body of the One who had broken him wide open.
He never got over that night.
The wind had blown through his soul. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t explain it.
But he followed.
The Temple Trembled. Has Your Heart?
Maybe you’ve stood nearby for years—respectful, even reverent.
But admiration is not allegiance. Agreement is not faith.
Jesus does not entrust Himself to the curious. He gives Himself to the crushed. To those who fall at His feet—not those who applaud from the edges.
You must be born again.
Not reformed. Not inspired. Not improved.
New.
Come to the One who scattered the sellers, who rebuilt the temple in three days, who still says, “Look to Me and be saved.”
Come.
Not later. Not when you understand more. Come now.
There is a whip braided and hanging on the wall of history. And there is mercy, still extended.
The temple shook that day.
Let today be the day your soul does the same.
Above content found and published with permission at My Bible Thoughts With Pastor Rich.
I’m Pastor Rich Bitterman, a country preacher from the Ozarks. Guy Howard, the old Walking Preacher, once wore out his boots traveling from church to church, meeting strangers and sharing the gospel. I’m doing the same today on digital roads. Each post is a visit. Each verse is a step. Let’s walk the Word together.