Pigeons Matter to Jesus

Holy Monday, Pigeons, and the Prophetic Cleansing of the Church

Today is Holy Monday—the day after Jesus entered Jerusalem, the week of his crucifixion. Traditionally, this is the day we remember Jesus cleansing the temple. All three synoptic gospels tell this story, and John foreshadows it in chapter 2 of his gospel.

But today, this part caught my eye:

And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and He overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, ‘It is written, “My house shall be called a house of prayer,” but you make it a den of robbers.”

— Matthew 21:12–13, emphasis added

Why pigeons?

Because pigeons were the offering of the poor—for those who couldn’t afford to bring a lamb. They were the sacrifice of widows, orphans, immigrants, and the marginalized. They were a symbol of God’s mercy and his radical accessibility.

When someone had nothing else to bring, they could still bring a pigeon.

And that was enough.

Jesus’ anger wasn’t just about money in sacred space.

It was about injustice.

It wasn’t just about greed—it was about gatekeeping mercy.

The temple had ceased to be a house of prayer and had become a place of privileged participation.

I believe we are in another temple-cleansing moment—not just in buildings, but in systems, pulpits, and power structures.

God is cleansing His Church again. He is overturning the tables of injustice. He is exposing inequality that has made itself at home in sacred spaces.

Hardly a day goes by that I don’t hear of another pastor or church being exposed for abusing the people of God. There is grief, anger, and a trail of devastation behind each one. And yet—I don’t believe God is exposing these things in wrath, but in love for who his people were always meant to be:

A people of prayer

A people of mercy

A people of integrity

A people who fulfills the law through love

A people who remembers the ones the world forgets

A few days after cleansing the temple, Jesus predicted its destruction—not with rage, but with grief. And He was right. It happened.

God didn’t preserve the temple building; He preserved a people.

So, I ask this: Is a 501(c)(3) more valuable than the souls it harms? Do we continue to preserve the organization at the risk of our pastors, the parishioners, the staff and ultimately our witness in the community?

Maybe it's time we stop fearing the flipping of tables and start fearing what happens when we let the injustice stay.

We don’t need more stage lights.
We don’t need more LED walls.
We don’t need “the best Sunday ever.”

We don’t need the best social media presence.

We don’t need systems that protect those who abuse.

We need more pigeons.