Knit Pickin ' / You've Got to Have Heart

Song 2:8-13; Jas 1:17-27; Mk 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Our gospel lesson for this morning is one of those important lessons that show us the difference between empty religious practices and the true meaning of faithfulness. Indeed, as we heard the gospel read today you probably noticed that there were some real differences between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day. For these religious leaders publically asked Jesus the question, "Why do you and your disciples not observe our traditions? – For you do not ritually wash your hands before you eat."

Of course, the answer to this question was obvious for Jesus. For he knew the difference between tradition and the spirit behind the tradition. He didn't believe in following empty, meaningless rituals, just for the sake of following ritual. He didn't believe in just looking religious. Rather, he believed that the purpose of religion was to help people become at-one with God and with one another. That was the true spirit of the faith that Jesus had. And anything in the tradition that his people followed that hindered atonement, love for one's neighbor, or made life difficult was scorned or even ignored by Jesus Christ.

Now, for the Jewish people there was the Law of Moses and then there were the traditions. The Law was, first of all, the Ten Commandments and, second, it was the first five books of the Old Testament, known as the Pentateuch. These books contained the great moral principles of our faith and were meant for each of us to interpret for ourselves. And, for hundreds of years the Jewish people were content with that. But, several hundred years before Christ along came a group of persons known as the Scribes. They weren't satisfied with moral principles that could be interpreted, each person for him or herself. Instead, they took these great teachings from the Old Testament and amplified, expanded, and broke them down until was resulted was thousands and thousands of little rules and regulations that governed every possible action and every possible situation in life. At the time of Jesus these rules and regulations were an oral tradition. It wasn't until about three hundred years after Christ that these rules and regulations were finally collected and written down in a book that was called the Mishnah. And this may even be a bit ironic for us. For even as this bit of legalism was written down, The New Testament, itself, a book explaining the grace of God's love for us, was being completed and canonized.

Now, in our Gospel lesson for this morning, the religious leaders accused Jesus and his disciples of not washing their hands before they ate. Of, course, for most of us, it makes sense to wash one's hands before eating. But, the kind of hand-washing being talked about in the Bible was not for hygienic purposes. Rather, what was at stake here was ceremonial cleanness. For before a meal was eaten and even between each of the courses of a meal the hands had to be washed in a certain way. The hands, to begin with, had to be free of any loose dirt. And the water for washing had to be kept in special large stone jars set aside for that purpose to ensure that it was ceremonially clean and had been used for no other purpose.

Now, as to the actual washing of the hands – this is how it was done: First the hands were held with fingers pointing upwards. A small amount of water, maybe a quarter of a cup, was then poured over the fingertips so that the water flowed down to the wrists. Then, they took the fist of each hand and rubbed it against the palm of the other hand. But the hands were still not clean until the hands were held with the fingers held down and same amount of water was poured over the wrists so that the water flowed down over the fingers. After all this had been done the hands were considered ritually clean for eating food.

To fail to do this, not only before each meal, but between each course of a meal, wasn't just bad manners, nor was it a problem of being dirty in the health-sense. Rather, to fail to do this was to be unclean in the sight of God. It was even believed that a person who failed to wash their hands before eating made themselves vulnerable to the attack of a demon called Shibta , an event that would lead to poverty and destruction.

Now, to the scribes and Pharisees these rules and regulations were the essence of religion. To observe them was to please God; to break them was to sin. This was their idea of goodness and of the service of God. In the religious sense Jesus and these people spoke different languages. It was precisely because he had no use for all these regulations that they considered Jesus and his disciples to be bad people. And there is a fundamental difference here – the difference between the person who sees religion as ritual, ceremonial, rules and regulations, and the person who sees in religion the importance of loving God and loving people.

Now, there has always been a danger in looking at religion this way. If, for instance, we look at going to church as a religious obligation, rather than as an opportunity to come closer to God and being in fellowship with one another, we become like those scribes and Pharisees of Jesus' day. Or, if we hold some kind of position in the church hierarchy or Sunday School or as a pastor, or whatever, thinking that it makes us more acceptable to God, we can forget it. Or, if we think that a worship service is ruined when a bulletin has a couple of typographical errors, or if the minister uses improper grammar, or if someone comes into worship wearing improper attire, or if the choir's singing or the organist's playing isn't quite up to par, then we've lost it. For we are justified before God, not by our works, or by our position, or by what we eat or drink, not by the perfection of a bulletin or a sermon or anything else, but by our faith in Jesus Christ.

Jesus believed that if he was going to minister to people, he had to be able to be with them, to identify with them, to eat with them, and to visit in their homes. And, yet, there were those in his day who even criticized him for doing that. There is the story of a little girl who was born in a two room shack in a remote mountain community in Georgia. Unfortunately, the girl had a fairly severe birth defect that she lived with until she was about twelve years old. Her parents had no idea that the defect could be corrected surgically. Finally, a minister happened to be visiting at the shack and saw the girl. He asked about her and made arrangements for the girl to go to Atlanta nurse to have surgery there. The girl had never been farther than 10 miles from home. Her family, including the grandparents lived in this two room shack that had no plumbing or electricity. None of the family attended school.

In the remote area where they lived, the girl had never even seen a car. Someone had once brought a truck somewhere close to the property and the girl had seen it, but had been afraid to take a ride in, fearful that "it would jiggle you up."

Anyway, the girl was taken for her first ride in an automobile to the hospital in Atlanta. The surgery was performed, but she would have to stay at the hospital for several weeks for recovery and observation and perhaps more surgery. While the girl was at the hospital recovering, a train official who had heard about her, came by and offered her a trip with him on a train. It was just a short trip, about three hours, so the hospital let her go, along with a nurse. And with that trip several persons learned a lesson in manners that would never be forgotten.

While on the trip, the railroad served lunch. And, although it was no big deal, the white cloth and the silver dishes were beyond the experience of the young girl. When the waiter brought soup to the table, the girl looked at it uneasily. She wasn't sure how to tackle it. And before anybody could show her how, she picked up the bowl and drank it down.

The waiter thought it was funny and almost started to laugh – until the train official glared at him, picked up his own bowl and followed suit. And then all of the other diners on the train caught on and did the same thing.

The desire to be right is often misleading. To eat soup correctly was nothing compared with making a poor little mountain girl feel comfortable and at home.

I once heard two Christians spend 20 minutes arguing very heatedly over how to pronounce the name of the 25th book of the Old Testament. One thought it was Hab- báck - kuk and the other thought it was Háb - ba - kuk . After they had argued it over ad nauseam they went on to argue over how David's wife's name should be pronounced – Is M-I-C-H-A-L pronounced like Michael or Michelle? So, they argued over that one for a while. And in the course of their conversation, they were even getting angry and calling each other names. I had to wonder why they felt so strongly about it. Did it really matter who was right? Or, maybe they both were wrong! And did God really care? Wasn't it far more important for them to learn how to come closer to God and to each other as they studied the scriptures? Wouldn't it have been far better for them to have devoted their energy to committing themselves to justice or missions or helping someone than trying to justify themselves? And, yet, all too often churches get all hung up on this kind of bantering when what God really wants us to do is love one another, care for the homeless and the hungry and the naked and the helpless, and be to open to his Spirit.

There is a story of how a devout Moslem hated a man so much that he decided to stalk him and kill him. The story goes that as he was pursuing the man with an upraised knife to murder him the call to prayer given from a nearby mosque. Immediately, the Moslem stopped, pulled his prayer mat out, fell upon his knees, said his prayers as fast as he could; then rose and completed his murderous task. The prayers he had prayed was simply a form and a ritual, an outward observance, merely the correct interlude in the career of murder.

There is no greater religious peril than that of identifying religion with outward observance. There is no commoner religious mistake than to identify goodness with certain so- called religious acts. Church-going, bible-reading, careful financial giving, even time-tabled prayer do not make a person a good person. The fundamental question is, how is a person's heart towards God and towards one's fellow human beings? If a person has hatred, bitterness, grudges, pride in his or her heart, there are no outward religious observances in all the world that will make that person anything other than a hypocrite.

And true religion can only come from the simple listening to and accepting the voice of God.

Amen.