Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Song of Solomon 2: 8-13
Psalm 45: 1-2, 6-9
James 1: 17-27
Mark 7: 1-8, 14-15, 21-23 *
“A New Way to Meet God’s Welcome”
--} Because Jesus takes a serious swipe at human “traditions” in this morning’s gospel reading, it seems appropriate that we’re departing from so much of our Sunday “tradition” this morning—for worship in the park. Our worship order is different, our responses are different, we’re in a different “location;” so maybe, just maybe we can meet Jesus where he is this morning.
In our gospel reading, we find Jesus across the Sea of Galilee in Gennesaret where he’s been healing the people who were brought to him or laid in the marketplaces. And it seems so “out of place” when some Pharisees and scribes—from Jerusalem—show up. I think these would have been pretty “strange looking cats”—in you know what I mean. They’re reported as “representatives of Jerusalem—institutional headquarters. They probably wore fancy suits and hats or the like, while Jesus and his friends were peasants, down-on-their-luck sort of folks who probably didn’t have nice clothes as it was hard enough just putting food on the table. And the people Jesus was meeting were the sick and injured—even less likely to have nice clothes or “look proper.”
Up to this point, Jesus has been doing all kinds of strange things—going by the “law.” He touched sick people or actually allowed them to touch him! He was healing and teaching and preaching and claiming authority that came from God! This isn’t the first time Jesus has run into folks who thought he was “unorthodox”; but this seems like more of an official review—a kind of spot inspection with note-taking. And the first things these “suits” from Jerusalem notice is that Jesus’ disciples (the disciples, not Jesus himself, mind you) are eating with “defiled hands.”
Now I happen to believe that we’re talking more about “ritual defilement” rather than the fact that the disciples are eating with “dirty hands” because they haven’t washed. The “suits” from the city are perhaps rightfully appalled, because the setting is the Sea of Galilee, an area known for fishing and such; the disciples were former fishermen (some of them), and hard working types who pause for lunch and think nothing of grabbing a sandwich without carefully removing all the working “grime” from their hands or under their fingernails. It’s the difference between the factory floor-worker and upper management; or the officer’s mess and the dining hall for the troops. The bottom line is that these Pharisaical “suits” from Jerusalem charge that Jesus’ disciples aren’t keeping the letter of the law—they’re eating with defiled hands and fouling up the whole world!
But this isn’t really about washing hands! When the “suits” ask Jesus “why his disciples don’t “walk” according to the proper tradition” he throws the prophet Isaiah in their face.
“The Lord said: Because these people draw near with their mouths and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their worship of me is a human commandment learned by rote.”
This isn’t about “washing hands,” it’s about keeping God’s commands. Ritual cleanliness was all about being made clean or acceptable for the presence of God. The “suits” are charging a kind of lax liturgical practice, rather than a lack of “effective” hand-washing—lax practice because it’s not done according to the official rule book published in Jerusalem. It’s kind of like the difference between baptism by emersion and baptism by sprinking. One “appears” as more effective in making one “clean,” but in the case of the “suits” I’m convinced they’re trying to argue that you’re “more clean” if you only “sprinkle.” Like this.
[Demonstrate washing techniques at the basin—inviting the kids to join in. ]
- If you’re going to “wash” your hands for “washing’s” sake, you want them in the water, getting them clean.
- But the ritualized practice, was more like taking the smaller vessel and “dripping” water to demonstrate clean intention rather than actual “cleanness.”
- Do we want our children to do effective hand-washing, or just have a few droplets of water poured on them and call it good?
But Jesus really isn’t about washing hands. Because “washing hands” doesn’t get rid of ritual impurity from touching someone whose sick or been sick, someone who’s died or is dying; ritual impurity comes from the friends you make and keep and sticks to you forever—unless you follow every jot and tittle of the law. The Pharisaical “suits” just didn’t SEE Jesus with these other folks, or surely they’d already filed a complaint with the home office. It’s not that they’re bad-mouthing Jesus, so much as they’re bad-mouthing Jesus’ friends. And what does that tell you! The Pharisees like their “suits” and they like the status quo. They’re interested in their power and “importance” as an institution. And the truth is, most of them have consorted with the Romans to keep their power, if they’ll in turn keep the Jewish people in line. So their “religious power” is really about the power of the empire. And Jesus isn’t buying it.
Instead, Jesus is emphatic—the rules of the kingdom of God demand a different way of life than the one the Pharisees “keep” and live with their human-made traditions. The “suits” use the law and its many embedded loopholes to keep people “in” or “out.” “Keeping the law” is a really good way to institute class loyalty. Rituals are for people who can “afford” them, and it’s one of the ways the “Suits” could have both their power and keep the people in line. They, too, demand their own form of “tribute” from the people, turning God’s “rules to live by” back into human chaos. So Jesus calls them on it, suggesting that they keep human traditions at the expense of God’s intentions.
“Corban,” for example, could be an especially nefarious use of the law. “Corban” was a way of making a gift to God, by which one’s property and money could be “given to God” so that it couldn’t rightfully be used for another purpose. An especially nice way to avoid bankruptcy or losing your lease on family heritage. In exchange for ritually “giving it to God” the Pharisaical “suits” often allowed people to retain the use of the property or money, but kept them from sharing it. So if you have a nice house, great; you can live in it, you just can’t let your mother-in-law whose a part of the rif-raff live there, too. Jesus saw that not only was the mother-in-law left to suffer, but it was an elaborate “gift to God?” What about God’s gift of the law that dictated “taking care of widows and orphans,” and “leaving some of the harvest for those who didn’t own it!” Which is the better demonstration: Ceremonial/Ritual law, that lets people do terrible things in the name of religion? Or the real intention of God, which is caring for one another as human beings.
And so Jesus, fed up with the suits, “declares all foods clean,” removing them from the ritual purification rules altogether. And while the “suits” will collectively have to pick their jaws up off the floor, after all—who can do that but God himself, right!—Jesus is celebrating a meal with his friends in the name of the Kingdom of Heaven!
The rules about “food” go way back. It’s one of the ways that God’s people are set apart as “unique” to God, because of the foods they’re allowed to eat or not eat. So this comes as a serious swipe at the institutional authority of the “suits” from Jerusalem. It sounds to them like a swipe at God; but Jesus is simply trying to associate or re-associate God’s rightful place at the center of life—with nothing between us, not even the Law. It’s not about “clean” or “unclean,” it’s not about washing your hands with a few droplets of water before you eat and saying the right prayer. It’s whether we’re truly welcoming the Spirit of God to reside in us and what we do in relationship to one another. “Clean” in the sight of God, is being free to do and be the things God intends and has proclaimed “good.” Caring for widows and orphans, tending to the needs of the sick, sharing food and celebration with the people around us. And the “terms” aren’t supposed to be brokered by the ways we wash our hands, but the love we share together in the image of God’s kingdom.
This is not about how we wash our hands; it is about how we treat one another. And it is about how we welcome Jesus/God into our midst. Is it by wrote prayers that obligate us to care very little for others—or is it found in our caring for one another that we meet our living Lord present among us—as near to us as the breaking of bread, whether our hands are clean or not.
--+ AMEN.
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