Extreme Superlatives

16th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 9:30-37

There is no question in our minds that Jesus takes us at our worst, and constantly challenges us to be our best. We then live out our earthly existence somewhere in between, constantly testing the limits of those two extreme boundaries, but most often conceding to middle ground.

The poets in our scripture lessons for today suggest the possibility of perfection on the part of both men and women in our midst – the “Proverbs 31” woman, and the “Psalm 1” man. None of us achieve these lofty goals, and yet they remain goals, nonetheless. James calls us to wisdom, challenging our human endeavors at earthly accomplishments when our goals are too self-focused and when our methods are devoid of gentleness and mercy. We have heard all of these scriptures read for us this morning, in a way that perhaps helps us to understand the futility we feel as we strive toward those things Jesus hopes for us, and we hope for ourselves

We sound a little like His disciples.

When we read Mark’s gospel, especially these middle chapters, we get a glimpse of a less sanitized Jesus than you and I are used to seeing. He confronts with regularity. He often stands somewhat aloof, “passing by” as Mark puts it from time to time. A few weeks ago, Mark told us that He was “intending to pass by” the disciples as they were drowning in their boat. Or, two weeks ago, we see Jesus enter the house of the woman whose daughter had an unclean spirit – Jesus entered, Mark tells us, “and did not want anyone to know He was there.” Today we hear that He is simply “passing through” Galilee. The way Mark describes Jesus, He is somewhat aloof, and often detached from the various situations He encounters along the way.

And then Mark tells us that He is watching. Several references in these middle chapters picture Jesus standing back and watching the disciples as they attempt to figure out just Who He is and what He wants from them – their “role” in this little mini-drama. As we arrive at v. 30, Jesus and the disciples are arriving in Galilee, or more accurately, passing through Galilee (again, not wanting anyone to know about it). He begins to teach them concerning the immediate future – saying that “The Son of Man is to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill Him; and when He has been killed, He will rise three days later.” Mark goes on to say that the disciples “didn’t understand,” and were “afraid to ask Him about it.”

Well, I guess!! We’re rather with them at this point – we don’t understand. We don’t understand Jesus’ actions, and we don’t understand much of His message. We’re confused. We feel somewhat isolated and perhaps even a little abandoned.

Just like the disciples . . . And then we notice in today’s scriptures that Jesus is watching them. They arrive in Capernaum, which most scholars think was Peter’s home town, and perhaps Jesus’ adopted home town. And when they do arrive, after they’ve unpacked and finally sit down in the house to prop their feet up for a little while, Jesus pops the question – “What were you boys arguing about back on the road?” He’s been watching. He’s always watching us.

Mark says that they were silent. Well, I guess so. They’d been arguing about who was the greatest among them. Muhammad Ali hadn’t come along yet, and they were evidently confused about this point, not to mention the concept as a whole. Who was the greatest among them!! What a question to ask!!

There’s so much we don’t know. We don’t know who the “they” was at this point. Was it all the disciples, or was it just Peter, James and John, who had recently accompanied Jesus up the mountain where they watched as Jesus, Moses and Elijah were gloriously transfigured in front of their very eyes. That must have been quite a sight, not to mention something of an ego trip for the “big three.” We don’t know exactly who was involved in the “argument,” and we don’t know the extent of their argument. We don’t know if Jesus was irritated by their suppositional questioning. And we don’t know the tenor in His voice as He asked the question.

We do know that these boys were obsessed with power and position. And even this little exchange didn’t faze them, because in the next chapter – Chapter 10 – the sons of Zebedee came to Jesus asking that He grant them the privilege of sitting on their right and left “when He came into His kingdom.” He told them they didn’t know what they were asking.

Neither do we, when we strive for these extreme superlatives.

Truth of the matter is – when we feel isolated and abandoned, and after we get past our momentary depressions, we start to look for ways in which we might distinguish ourselves. We start to ask really dumb questions, like “Who is the greatest in the kingdom,” and “May we sit on your right side and your left side when you come into your kingdom.” We start to listen to the voices of prominence in our lives – our parents, who tell us that we are wonderful and we can be anything we want to be – or our own voices – which tell us that we are deserving of positions of power and prominence in the kingdom of God – that we have served God with exemplary behavior and consistency – and that we are deserving of all the extreme superlatives which can possibly be ushered upon us. We start to believe that we deserve more than the others around us, and we start to believe that we are actually better than those around us – you know, people for whom Jesus died. And we fold our arms and point fingers at those poor, unfortunate souls. Or we huddle in public and private corners with anyone we can convince to join our social politic, and we castigate those sisters and brothers – for whom Christ died – we castigate them and condemn them from our lofty positions of prominence and power – so that we might continue to elevate ourselves to the levels of extreme superlatives we have lavished upon ourselves.

Charles Cousar says that “strikingly, the disciples are not reprimanded for what seems like a ridiculous argument, but the whole notion of ‘greatness’ is redefined.”[1] You and I can breathe something of a sigh of relief that Jesus doesn’t give us what we deserve when we act like this – rather, Jesus redefines the conversation for us with as much grace as candor.

He redefined these extreme superlatives. He gave us new superlatives, for which to strive. Cousar says, “New categories are proposed for determining success and failure, winning and losing, achievement and unfulfillment. We begin to get an inkling of what setting our minds on divine thought really implies – not purely spiritual meditations, but attention to the least in such a radical way that we become the least.”[2] Jesus did this for us in such a memorable way -

He found a child.

Mark says, “He found a child, put her in their midst, and then took her into His arms.” I like that picture. Except for the extremely cynical among us, most of us love to gather a child into our arms. Pick up a baby and pull it to your chest. Bounce a toddler on your knee. Pick up a five year old, who is starting to get to old and big to pick up any more. There is something magical about those moments. There is something so very human about those moments. We all love them.

Jesus brought this little child into their midst, and in doing so, introduced us to new superlatives. Meekness. Vulnerability. Transparency. Graciousness. Ideas and concepts which find their genesis in children, who are, in most societies, the very least of us all, when they should be the very most important of us all.

In teaching this class out at NOC, we dealt with a chapter on poverty. It used to be that the elderly were the largest group in poverty in this country. But with the investment Social Security has produced in our country, poverty among the elderly has declined significantly. Do you know who has replaced them – as the fastest growing segment of society when it comes to the issues of poverty? Children. Children are the segment of society in which poverty is growing fastest.

Children are the least among us, when they should be the very most important among us. Seems it’s always been that way.

Jesus used the most vulnerable among us as an example of greatness in the kingdom. He wasn’t referencing the “child’s naiveté or innocence or trustfulness”[3] here – no, He was making a point about this “child’s lowly status.”[4] Jesus found the smallest, lowliest, weakest, most vulnerable and transparent person He could find standing around that afternoon, and said to the disciples and to us, “This is how you come into the kingdom. You come like this child. And when you’re looking for positions of prominence and importance in the kingdom, you look for someone like this child to welcome into the kingdom. And when you finally learn how to welcome someone like this child, then you’ve learned how to welcome me, and if you can welcome me, you’ve finally found your way to God.”

And isn’t that why we’re here this morning. To find our way to God??

A friend of mine in town here this week said to me, “One of the strangest things about your church is that you have so many people of excellent and noble character as members.” I know what she was trying to say – she was attempting to offer a compliment to our congregation.

I pray that we are not known so much for our achievements, and our prominence in this community, and our individual and corporate excellencies – as we are for our humility, our meekness, our gentleness, and our graciousness. I pray that when people speak of us, that they notice that we love – especially the least among us – like Jesus did – and that we care more for others – more than we care for ourselves. I hope that’s what they say about us.

As we all make our way to God . . .

Richard W. Dunn, Ph.D.

[1] Brueggemann, Cousar, Gaventa, Newsome, Texts for Preaching, Year B, p. 520.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.

Naming Your God

15th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 8:27-38

Jesus, the Christ, asks the same question of you and me that He asked of Simon Peter that day. “But who do you say that I am?”

It is a fair question. Since Christ has paid the purchase price for our redemption – since He died for every man, woman and child who has ever walked the planet – I would say that it is a fair question for Him to ask. “But who do you say that I am?”

Are we to name our God??

From the days of Adam, man has been in the naming business. God paraded all the animals in front of Adam, and he gave them names. That’s the story in Genesis. Then God paraded Eve in front of Adam, and he said, “Whoa, man!” Or something like that . . .

Seriously, one of the great privileges of being human is the capacity to name things. I like to watch an episode of Frazier at night, to end my day with a chuckle, and I recently saw one of my favorite episodes. It’s the one where Niles and Daphne are trying to come up with a name for their unborn child so they can get the child on the waiting list for a rather elite Pre-school. They argue back and forth about names, and finally, having come to an impasse, they ask Roz to pick a name – which she does. The show fast forwards five years to the admissions committee of that elite Pre-school, and they ask, “Well, who’s next,” and the person reading off the names says, “Last name, Crane; First name, Ichabod.” They stamp “Denied” on the admission form, insisting that if the couple didn’t take the admission process seriously, how could they be expected to take their child’s schooling seriously at that prestigious academy. Naming things is important.

You were given a name – maybe long before your birth – but you were given a name by your parents. It may have had family heritage attached to it. It may have come from a movie. My mother still swears I was named after Little Richard. And I still swear that I was named after King Richard, from Camelot. Where your name came from makes a difference, doesn’t it? And if you have children, you named them. You know, the Wednesday night crowd gets something of a preview of the sermon most weeks, and I pointed out that Leslee and Nick came up with an unusual name in “Chevelle.” We all suspect what her first car will be . . .

Politicians know the power of naming something. We’ve watched over the last several years as the long standing “estate tax” has been renamed the ominous “death tax.” It makes a difference, don’t you think?

And we get to name our God?

Actually, God has told us God’s name. When Moses saw the bush burning, stammering, He asked God for God’s name. God replied, “Tell them, ‘I Am’ has sent you.” “Tell them the Eternal One, the Ever Existing God has sent you.”

Have you heard the names for God which have been mentioned this morning? The Psalmist concludes by calling out to God – “O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Three powerful images are presented in those names. Lord. Rock. Redeemer. Powerful words. Powerful images. Good names for God.

The writer of the 1st chapter of Proverbs calls the Lord “Wisdom.” “Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice.” “Listen. Choose. Heed. Grow.” Apply the wisdom of the ages to your own lives, and prosper in the way of the Lord. “Wisdom” is a good name for God.

We have heard other good names for God this morning. Mary read for us from our hymnal – a listing from each book in our Bible of names for Jesus. “The Ram. The Passover Lamb. The High Priest. The Cloud by day and the Pillar of Fire by night. The City of our Refuge.” We hear other names. Bridegroom. Servant. Suffering Servant. Burden Bearer. Savior. Avenger. Restorer. Fountain. Justifier. Resurrection. Fullness of the Godhead. Blessed Hope. Everlasting Covenant. King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. The scripture is replete with wonderful names for our Jesus – our Savior – our Lord. All good names for Christ.

What name did Jesus choose for Himself? Most often, Jesus referred to himself as the “Son of Man.” A name means everything, doesn’t it? And the name that Jesus chose for himself was “Son of Man.” Divine, yet human. Powerful, and at the same time, submissive. A name which identifies Him with us – far more than we would have ever anticipated.

And we heard the choir sing this morning. I have grown to love that hymn – “Be Thou My Vision.” Christ is our Vision. Listen again to the words.

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my wisdom, and Thou my true word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord.
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise.
Thou mine inheritance, now and always;
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my treasure Thou art.

My favorite phrase in that hymn is in that last line – “High King of Heaven.” I love that image – that Christ is the High King of heaven, Who has come down to earth to purchase our redemption. Such an example. Such love.

Which brings us back to the question. Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do men say that I am?” The disciples had answers. “Some say that you are John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” Those would have been all the popular answers to the question, in that day. They would have looked to the recently deceased John the Baptist – wondering if Jesus was John reincarnated. Others would have looked to the greatest of the prophets, Elijah. But this Jesus was so different, He may have been the reincarnation of one of the lesser prophets.

I’ve asked some people that question over the years. “Who do you think Jesus is?” Far too many of them answered the question in the past tense – “He was a good man, a great teacher, an excellent philosopher.” And others go the other direction – “He was pure God. He could do everything He did because He was God. Came and lived here among us, but He wasn’t really one of us – because He was God.” I often wonder if they know that Jesus called Himself the “Son of Man.”

His first question was the set up question. Jesus was good at doing that, you know. He would ask a question to draw you into conversation. He would draw you into the premise – and the premise in this case was the importance of Who Jesus was. Others had an opinion. The disciples knew what they were saying – well enough to rattle off a reply to the Master.

But then He asked the real question. “But who do you say that I am?” It’s a fair question. It’s one they needed to answer. Peter spoke up. I’m not sure if he was speaking for the group, or if he was speaking just for himself. “You are the Messiah.” Other gospel writers quote him this way – “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”

Whichever way Peter actually said it, according to Jesus, he got it right.

Jesus asks us the very same question. “But who do you say that I am?” It’s still a fair question. It really is the question that every person must answer. It certainly is the question that every person in this room must answer. For you see, we are privileged to name our God. And the way we name Him defines just Who He is in our lives.

I have a suggestion for us. We must not skew our belief in Christ in any one direction, as a result of our inability to understand just Who He really is. And we must never trivialize Christ – in any sense. Let me tell you what I mean.

We can name God like the people the disciples had been listening to - people who had skewed their perception of God toward someone who had already lived and died. Good people, certainly. Prophets, absolutely. Then, others had skewed their perception of God totally toward His divine nature, neglecting to acknowledge that God now resided in human flesh. We can skew our concept of Jesus toward that which we already know – that which makes the most sense to us.

In this day and age, it is highly more likely that we would trivialize either aspect of Jesus’ being – His divinity or His humanity. You and I have heard people who say “Well, He was just like us. Nothing special, except He lived a pretty good life.” Trivialization. Or they say, “Well, of course God can live a perfect life – He’s God.” Trivialization.
We hear Him speak again. He calls Himself the Son of Man. Fully God, fully human. The God-man. One of a kind. Never another like Him.

He asks us the same question, Cornerstone. “But who do you say that I am?” It’s a fair question.

It’s a question that God wants us to answer. Sometimes God wants us to answer it out loud. God wants others to know Who we think He is. But more often than not, it’s a question that He wants us to answer in our quiet, personal moments – all kind of moments – moments of sorrow, moments of pain, moments of triumph, moments of great joy. God wants to know what we think – in the private moments of our lives, when it’s just us, and God.

There’s a little chorus in our hymnal. I sing it sometimes when I’m in those private moments – just me and God. It goes like this:

You are my God, You are my King,
You are my Master, my everything.
You are my Lord, that’s why I sing to You.
Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

Richard W. Dunn, Ph.D.

The Canine Gospel

14th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 7:24-37

I’ve been having fun with my sermon titles lately. It’s always fun to come up with a title that is intriguing, a little bit controversial, and vaguely humorous. This week’s title has generated a great deal of interest – I have had people all over town wondering what I was going to preach this week. One church member wanted to know if we were going to hear more stories about Amy. Another asked me if Bucky was preaching this week. I can report that the title is original with me this week, although the idea has been considered by a number of preachers over the past several years.

Mark reports to us that Jesus has traveled outside the boundaries of Galilee. That was His home area. I tried thinking a little this week what corollary I could draw for us. It would be less like traveling to Mexico – the cultural differences are too great for that comparison. Rather, it would be more like us traveling to New Mexico – still a part of the United States, but a noticeable difference in culture, considering the influence of Native Americans in that part of our country. To travel to the region of Tyre, Jesus would have been moving out of His own culture into an area where things were different enough that people would take notice that He had crossed something of a cultural boundary.

I haven’t mentioned it in a sermon, but it was bound to come out sometime this fall. I agreed to teach a course at NOC this fall – I don’t know where my mind was – agreeing to teach a course during hunting season. Anyway, I am teaching a Tuesday and Thursday evening section on Social Problems. I’m enjoying the class, for the most part – and I’m certainly learning a lot. This week, we dealt with the social problems related to race and ethnic inequities in our society. I have never experienced a more tense session than I did on Tuesday night. I consider myself to be extremely unbiased in relation to race and ethnic issues, and I certainly do not consider myself to be prejudiced in any sense of the word. But in dealing with actual data surrounding several “minority” groups in our society, I found myself dealing with language and concepts that made me squirm with every word I said, and every idea we considered. I was attempting to be politically correct in a world where political correctness is constantly redefining itself.

We might gasp, then, when we hear Jesus respond to this woman in the 7th chapter of Mark. She is a gentile, or at least of gentile derivation. He is a Jew – and in His response, He sounds more Jewish than we might be comfortable with. She asks for an act of mercy – not for herself, but for her demon-possessed daughter. He responds with a Jewish based proverbial teaching – “you feed the children before you feed the dogs.” That would be for you and me a truism – except in this case, everyone knew what He was saying. He was saying what every Jew in that day and age would think about the gentiles – that in the minds of Jews, they were “dogs.” I’ve shared this illustration with you before – the Jews had such a distaste for gentiles – they had a name for them, which literally meant “uncircumcised Gentile dogs.” It was not a kind expression, by any stretch of the imagination. Jesus repeats that imagery, and we gasp a little at His language, if not His meaning.

I’ve heard a couple of different explanations over the years to try to explain the rather “insensitive” way Jesus responds to this woman. The one I heard through my youth years and in seminary was that Jesus was offering something of a test to this woman – “Just how much does she want this gift I have to give her? Will she step right past this common insult I throw at her for the sake of her daughter?” I know a lot of folks who think that’s exactly what He was doing – mostly because in their minds, there’s not really any other option that is more palatable. But several years ago, I heard an explanation that I like better, even if it still leaves me scratching my head a little. It’s the explanation that speaks to the human side of Jesus in this exchange. Jesus sounds so very human here, doesn’t He? He sounds like He’s spent a lot of years in the Jewish education system of the day – a system in which a desire to serve God in the purity of God’s appointment of the Jews would look at all others as being “dogs” in comparison to their privileged position. I see the human/divine struggle in Jesus in this exchange – quite like the night He was betrayed, and spent several hours in the garden of Gethsemane, crying out to His Heavenly Father, asking if there was another means by which salvation could be purchased, other than Him giving up His life. The humanity of Jesus was evident in that experience, and I see something of the same in this exchange with this woman.

You say, “Well, pastor, Jesus wasn’t human – He was divine. How could the humanity of Christ conflict with His divine nature?” Believe me – I understand that question – much more than I can pretend to understand the answer. Let me ask us a question. The scriptures and our experience tell us that when we become Christians, our “spiritual nature” is awakened – literally becomes alive. Do you and I still struggle with the flesh? I know that we can’t make a direct comparison between our spiritual nature and the divinity of Christ – I’m not suggesting that we do. Still, I can see parallels. As hard as I try, I still bring my human biases to the table when I try to live out my spiritual life – and I think something of the same was true for Jesus.

Well, most of that is just my opinion. It does set the stage for us, though. In this story, we find ourselves smack in the middle of something of a societal/culture/religious war – something that you and I understand quite well these days. The early “Christian” thinking of the day was that the gospel was for the Jews – that it was a continuation of the story of God’s redemption for mankind. The mistake the Jewish people made was that the gospel was only for them – not just “first” for them – in the sense of “sequence.” They still don’t understand that concept – that God “chose” them in the sense that God first planted the gospel in their field. They were the first to receive it, and it would naturally spread from there. The mistake the Jews made was what was meant by the word “chosen.” They weren’t special – rather, far from it. They were a troublesome people – quick to abandon God at the least opportunity, and prone to wandering toward other deities. They were anything but faithful, as God pointed out from time to time. They thought the gospel was just for them – only them. That’s where they made their mistake.

Thank God.

Thank God that Jesus made this first foray into the Gentile population. She was the first. But every person sitting in this room this morning can claim to be a direct result of what happened on that fateful day. Jesus crossed the line. He crossed the line between Jews and gentiles, and we are of all people most blessed because He did. We are just like her. We are gentiles. We are the people whom the Jews would have called “dogs.” And the good news of Jesus Christ is that His gospel if for us. It’s not just a “Jewish” gospel – it’s also a “canine” gospel. It is a gospel for us – for you and me.

In this class that I’m teaching over at NOC, we have two sessions each week – Tuesday night and Thursday night. On Tuesday evening, I try to hit the subject matter for the week at the “knowledge” level – the most basic level. We work through the chapter which was assigned from the book, making note of the most important details. But on Thursday night, we try to kick it up a notch. I am trying to cover the same subject matter, but at the comprehension and application levels. In that same spirit, let’s switch gears to what James has to say.

James is gospel application. He takes what the church had gleaned by the mid-first century, and translates it into every day action. You heard what Joe read for us a while ago. These are practical application words – and they hit us right between the eyes.

He concludes with these words – “So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” You and I buy that part of his claim. We realize that the application of our faith is at least a part of the proof of our faith. It’s the subject matter that comes just before this verse that concerns us. For you see, these verses talk about how we apply our faith, but they speak of that application in terms of how we treat other people.

James first example is one of distinction – if we make distinctions, he says, we have become “judges with evil thoughts.” He then makes the case that we are to treat the poor with generosity, fairness, and a sincere lack of distinction. In fact, James makes the point that God has actually shown favoritism to the poor by offering the riches of the kingdom of heaven to them. We might take umbrage with that idea – that is until we remember that we were the ones described as gentile dogs – we were the poor in this world’s eyes, and God has already shown favoritism toward us by offering the gospel of His good grace to you and to me.

One of the things that gives me the greatest pride concerning our congregation is our involvement at Our Daily Bread. We don’t have a huge role, but our children have helped serve there each of the last two summers, and some of our church members regularly serve and take food to them, and we helped them raise the funds to help build their present facility. We could do more, but I certainly like that we are involved in that ministry. Outside the new building is that great wall, depicting Christ in the bread line. You’ve seen it – it is rather striking – etched in that black marble.

Jesus came and stood in our soup line. He became poor, for us. He offered us the riches of His Father – Who is now our Father. We are blessed beyond measure, gentiles that we were. And now we are privileged to share the grace of Christ with all those who still need to hear the gospel.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

Why Don’t You Wash Your Hands?

13th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Have you ever noticed how much people like to tell other people what to do? I’ve tried to become a little more selective when I offer my suggestions to others. I’m still willing to offer an opinion, but offering suggestions to others takes on an entirely different set of “problem possibilities.” I’ll mention just a couple of these problems. First, there’s always the possibility that you will be caught not doing the very thing that you suggested the other person do, and you then end up with the label “hypocrite.” Another possibility would be that you suggest something to another person, not knowing all the possible ramifications of the possible outcomes of your suggestions, and then the other person heeds your advice, and life begins to go badly for that person. Then you are saddled with the label of being a “giver of bad advice.” We could probably play this little game for quite a while.

When we arrive at chapter 7 of Mark, the Pharisees and their scribes have returned to the scene. They were rather obviously missing from chapter 6, but evidently they have now “regrouped” and have shown up in force to take their next best shot at Jesus. This time, the target was His disciples.

Jesus’ disciples were under constant scrutiny. It was true in Jesus’ day, and it is true today. This time they are the target of the religious leaders of that day. It seems that often Jesus’ disciples are under the scrutiny of those obsessed with greater and greater orthodoxy.

That’s one thing that bothers me about orthodoxy. Orthodoxy presupposes regulation on relationship. I can illustrate. I have three siblings – you’ve met all three of them. I am close to each of them, but was closest in age to my brother, Tony. We were separated by only 13 months, and were raised a little like twins are raised. I still remember the day that Dad let me go someplace, and Tony wasn’t allowed to “tag along.” But that was when I was in the seventh grade. Up until that time, we were rather inseparable. During our childhood and youth years, Mother and Dad would instruct us in how we were to get along with one another. He and I got along rather well, for brothers, but there was the occasional disagreement. They, and others, tried to help us define our relationship.

However, there came a time in our lives when it really became no body else’s business how Tony and I defined our relationship. We knew how we wanted to relate to each other, and no one could really tell us how we were “supposed” to relate.

I’ve noticed two groups of people in our world. There is the one group who presupposes that they know how every person is to relate with God, and there is the group who realize that they can’t possibly define another person’s relationship with God. I am most disturbed by the former group, and so I attempt to live as a member of that second group of people. I don’t always succeed.

Well, I’ve gone to preachin’. Let me take us back to the text. The Pharisees and their scribes were strict followers of the law. Barbara Reid of Catholic Theological Union in Chicago says that “prescriptions for ritual washing of hands and feet before entering the tent of meeting are given by Moses to Aaron and his sons in Exodus 30:19; 40:12. By the second century B.C.E.. some Jews who were not priests had voluntarily assumed the practice of washing hands before morning prayer and before eating. Some wanted to impose these and other such observances on all Jews. It was mainly urban elites who defined and maintained this ‘traditions of the elders’ (v.3). This tradition would be very difficult to observe for itinerants such as Jesus, or for his followers who were mainly peasant farmers and fisherfolk, due to lack of water for ritual ablutions and contact with pollutants such as dead fish.”[1] In other words, the orthodox practices originally given to the Priests were now by the Pharisees being translated into ritual practices which were becoming reasonably accepted as practices to be imposed on the general population of Jews.

Jesus identified this practice and their intent with a quote from Isaiah – “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.” Then Jesus said to them, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.”

It seems that even then, the practice of adding to the law was in vogue. That kind of thing happens all the time in Christianity these days. We assume a personal position of obedience, come to a realization that “if it’s good for me, it’s got to be good for everyone else,” and then we go full force trying to impose it on others.

Cornerstone – here is the caution for us – individually, and as a congregation of faithful followers. Jesus’ teachings are often in opposition to mainstream thinking – to what most consider the “obvious” way of thinking. We must always be careful not to impose our human thinking on the spiritual direction of God. Through the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, God is perfectly capable of interpreting the will of God for other’s lives. As witnesses to the Father, we are to tell the world what God has said, and then allow the Spirit of God freedom to interpret as He desires.

Did you find yourself squirming a little this morning as the scriptures were being read? I know that I did. James always has a way of “eating my lunch,” and these words from our Lord are indicting to even the most trustworthy of servants. Defilements come out of us all – defilement is universal. There is not a man, woman, or child among us who does not stand guilty of the things Jesus lists in this passage, or the things that James mentions in his epistle. We are all guilty. We are all defiled.

To answer the question asked by the Pharisees, Jesus doesn’t tell us not to wash our hands. Right living is never a bad idea. And doing things to show God our attempts at being pure as we approach God are all good things. There is a sense in which we ought to let the Pharisees off the hook a little. A little disclaimer here – I stole this morning’s title from Samuel Candler. He wrote a powerful sermon on this passage 6 years ago. I know it was powerful – because several people that I read referred to his sermon. Anyway, Candler suggests that the Pharisees were doing something that you and I still try to do today – they were attempting to make holy acts which were common. They washed before their meals, trying to make something holy out of what was merely a common meal. Candler suggests that you and I do the same thing today. We offer blessings before we eat, attempting to make something holy out of a very common act. We pray before we do a lot of things – always attempting to invoke God’s blessing and favor on the act we are about to perform.[2]

It’s not a bad thing, asking for God’s blessing. It turns into a bad thing, though, when we try to hold God responsible for our irresponsibilities, our lack of preparation, our unwillingness to follow the teachings of God, and our insistence that the mere act of praying itself ought to guarantee the outcome of our actions. And we don’t do ourselves any favors when we insist that everyone else approach their prayer lives the way we approach ours.

A couple of other things for our consideration this morning. Earlier, I said that Jesus’ teachings are often in opposition to mainstream thinking – to what most consider the “obvious” way of thinking. Jesus has a tendency to radically flip our thinking upside down. This is a great example. The Pharisees were insistent that it was what went into the person that defiled the person. They avoided ingestion of all kinds of things. Go back and read your Levitical law – there was a laundry list of things that the Jews were to avoid.

Jesus turned their world upside down. He was pretty adamant about it when He said, “Listen to me, all of you and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.” It’s not what goes in – it’s what comes out. The stuff that God made – it’s all good. So it’s not the good stuff that goes in that defiles a person – it’s what comes out – that which is conceived in our minds and our hearts and ultimately expressed in our actions that defiles a person.

I tell you, friends – this list that Jesus puts out there haunts me. Elsewhere in the scriptures, He says that if we’re guilty of any sin, we’re guilty of them all. There’s some of these sins I don’t want to be guilty of – but I am.

Jesus said it’s what comes out of our mouths that defiles us. I think that statement is true in a general sense, and it’s true in a specific sense. I’ll mention one item that’s on the list. Slander. You could add gossip to that list, quite easily. It has about the same effect. When we speak about other persons, we do harm to that person. That’s the lesson from James, later in the chapter. He talks about the tongue, and reminds us that the tongue is like the rudder on a large ship – it steers the direction of that great vessel. It’s the same in our lives.

I have a friend who has a statement that he makes when a well-meaning church member starts to tell him something about another person. He says this: “Be careful what you tell me, because in telling me, you really tell me three things: you tell me what you think of that other person; you also tell me what you think about yourself; and in your telling, you tell me something about what you think about me.” That turns out to be a pretty good rule of thumb when it comes to slander and gossip. We accomplish so much more than we intend. We inform our hearers, certainly, what we think of the person of whom we speak. That was probably our intent. But we do more than that – we tell our hearers what we think about ourselves – about our ability to love, tolerate, and forgive others. And finally, we tell our hearers something of what we think of their character – are they the kind of person who likes to listen to complaints and charges brought against another person?

Paul makes five statements in the 4th chapter of Romans that help us with application this morning. He says:

1. v.13 “Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather determine this-- not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother's way.”

2. v. 15 “For if because of food your brother is hurt, you are no longer walking according to love. Do not destroy with your food him for whom Christ died.”

3. v.17 “for the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”

4. v. 19 “So then let us pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another.”

5. v. 22 “The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves.”

Wise words for us all. You and I – we seek to please God. Every person in this room wants to please God. We do so best as we serve others. Rules are important, but we serve others best when we remember that relationships are a whole lot more important. We help others the most when we encourage the development of the faith relationship that they have with God – that personal relationship which exists between God and every autonomous individual God has created.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

1 Lectionary Homiletics, “Proper 17 – Exegesis,” Barbara E. Reid, vol. 17, No. 5, p.37.

2 Samuel Candler - "Why Don't You Wash Your Hands?" - http://www.day1.net/index.php5?view=transcripts&tid=214