It’s Holy Week.

After Jesus expelled the moneychangers from the temple, the blind and the lame came to Him there—and He healed them.

There is something striking about the order of events in the text. Jesus enters Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. He goes straight to the temple. And only after the temple has been purged—only after the clutter and corruption have been confronted—do the blind and the lame come forward, and Jesus heals them.

It’s amazing what kind of healing becomes possible when distractions are removed. How often the very things meant to mediate God’s presence instead obstruct it. How often clutter crowds out compassion. And yet, when space is cleared, when barriers are dismantled, those who were once blind begin to see, and those who were once unable to walk find their footing again. Amazing grace, indeed.

What begins as a bold and prophetic act—Jesus overturning tables—quickly becomes an occasion for ministry. Real help. Real healing. The disruption is not an end in itself; it makes room for restoration.

In ancient Israel, the blind and the lame would not have been welcomed in the temple. The rules, the rituals, the systems meant to order worship had become stumbling blocks rather than steppingstones. Look at what Jesus does. He does not reinforce the barriers; He removes them. And when He does, those who had long been excluded are finally able to come near.

This is not just a word about the temple, per se. It is a word about our hearts and our lives.

What things must Jesus disrupt in us? What needs to be dismantled, decluttered, overturned, so that healing might take place? Where are we struggling to see—to stand—to walk? What is obscuring our vision or hindering our steps? What is leaving us unsteady, unstable, unfulfilled, and unhealed?

May God disrupt anything that hinders healing—whether for others or for ourselves.

“And the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them.”
Matthew 21:14

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,
just adam