Hearers, Doers, &c.

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

This is admittedly one of my longer sermons, preached to First Congregational UCC in Oshkosh, whose pastor had retired the week before.

We're going to talk in just a minute about some of the nitty-gritty details of what Jesus considers sin, and what wants his followers to do. But as we go through that, I want to be mindful of a few things.

The first of those is of course the context of this morning. With Pastor Nancy's departure, I have to imagine that you all are a little nervous, wondering what do we do now?

The short answer to that question is: It's going to be all right. Be excellent to one another and your interim minister, and you'll be just fine.

Second, we've heard this morning about a dispute between Jesus and his disciples and the Pharisees. When we look at such texts, we should always bear in mind that "the Pharisees" are the ancestors of modern rabbinic Judaism. What we've read today is ancient beef between two constesting parties. We should understand it through that lens — and leave the beef in the past.

Disciples

And third, when I preach about the demands of Christian discipleship, I try to be mindful of the age of the people I'm speaking to. There is no use in laying a burden on people who are realistically not able to carry it. That way lies madness and guilt.

At the same time, the Christian faith does demand that we change our behavior. It is not enough to believe in Jesus. In the words of the apostle James, we must be

doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like.

If we only let the words of the gospel wash over us without putting them into action, we cannot really be Christian, in the sense that we don't act like Christ. If we don't do something with our faith, according to James, we soon lose our Christian identity.

Here's where we start to get into the details. What exactly is it we're supposed to do? Being nice to other people, being kind, is only part of it. James says we should "bridle our tongues," "care for orphans," and keep ourselves "unstained by the world."

So: don't sin, which is a bit vague, take care of orphans—really, people who have no one else to care for them—and watch our words. This seems simple enough, but perhaps we could use still more clarity. Jesus spells it out for his disciples: whether or not we wash our hands before dinner matters less than what we say and do to one another.

The laundry list

Before going any further, I want to stress that Jesus is discussing a matter of sin. As a matter of hygiene, washing your hands frequently is one of the best ways to avoid spreading disease.

So: Jesus says, Ehhh, not washing your hands isn't nearly a big a deal as some other sins.

Pastor Dan says: wash your hands. Cover your cough too!

In any case, according to Jesus, we ought to avoid:

fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, and folly.

Can't forget the folly.

Now all of a sudden we've gone from simple to complicated. Fornication seems easy to avoid: don't sleep around. Theft, murder and adultery also seem easily controlled. Don't do those things. Avarice — greed — is more difficult. Everyone wants something they don't have sometimes, we all want more more more sometimes.

I'm not entirely sure what "wickedness" means. The Greek is literally "pain-spreading evil," which is not much help. Deceit? Everybody lies at least once in a while. Licentiousness is just another word for fornication, envy's another one for greed.

Avoiding slander, or speaking evil of someone else, is sometimes easier said than done. But with practice, you can get better at it. It's important to be a voice for positivity in my role as a chaplain. So when people speak negatively about someone else, I try to reframe things to see if I can get them to see that person in a more positive light. Sometimes I'm even successful. There's a side benefit to this, however, which is that people think you're a freaking saint! You can away with a lot that way.

Everybody's proud sometimes, everybody's foolish, some of us more than others. [Ahem.]

It's a lot to keep track of, especially with Jesus' other commands to feed my sheep and love one another and refrain from judgment and whatnot. That's not even to mention all the instructions we get from the apostles later on in the New Testament. You try to live up to the whole list of dos and don'ts at once, you might sprain something. Worse yet, you might let a stray act of wickedness slip through, maybe even some pride or worse yet, folly.

I'm having a bit of fun with this, of course, but you get the point. Being a Christian relieves us of the burden of following the Old Testament law. But even living up to New Testament standards can be overwhelming. It might be helpful to have some sort of general principle to guide our actions, to help us sort out what we ought and ought not be doing.

Humility

As it happens, Christians have a word for exactly that. It's called "humility." That's the ongoing practice of clearing away our "stuff" in order to grow in love for others. To put it another way, humility is getting ourselves out of the way so that we can imitate Christ more better.

Now, it's important to understand what humility is not before we embrace what it is. According to my seminary professor Roberta Bondi, humility is not any of the following things:

• Accepting an inferior position in life because you're told to do so
• Self-hate or self-denial
• Passive aggression or manipulation
• Guilt or guilt-tripping
  

There's a very clever parody of this sort of humility in Stella Gibbons' novel Cold Comfort Farm, where the hellfire-and-brimstone preacher Amos Starkadder speaks to the congregation he's founded, the Church of the Quivering Brethren:

"Ye know, doan't ye, what it feels like when ye burn yer hand . . wi' a match when ye're lightin' one of they godless cigarettes? Aye. It stings wi' a fearful pain, doan't it? And ye run away to clap a bit o' butter on it . . . Ah but there'll be no butter in hell!"

Starkadder's sermon is enough to set the congregation trembling, hence their name. And despite his attacks on them, they keep coming back, Sunday after Sunday.

It's all very funny, but it's not actual humility. In fact, understanding humility in this way can cause great injustice. Women especially get the idea that they deserve to be treated like dirt.

True humbleness can never be forced onto someone. Rather, Bondi says, humility is a way of finding freedom by giving up baggage we often don't even know we're carrying: judgmentalism, the need to be right, the need to be above reproach, wanting to see ourselves as heroes.

We are meant to be responsible to one another, and yet we find plenty of excuses not to be. We say this person doesn't deserve it, or he's on the wrong path. Or we say if I reach out to her I'll commit a sin, or since I can't do it perfectly, I might as well not do anything at all. We peel these excuses away through prayer, repentance (coming to terms in an honest and open ways with our failings) and seeking and offering forgiveness. 

The work of humility is a lifelong commitment. It takes determination and healing, to be honest. Because, paradoxically, humility can't be found if we have no self-esteem to begin with, or a damaged sense of the self. As with money, so with ourselves: we can't be generous if we have nothing to give.

But if we can come to understand ourselves as beloved children of God, no better or worse than anyone else, we can do wonderful things. Turns out the trick to moving mountains is not to get too big for your britches. Who knew?

Ancient beef

Jesus tells the Pharisees and the scribes that they're being arrogant, essentially. For one thing, they're picking out something his disciples are doing wrong for no better reason than that it makes them feel superior.

The Pharisees know darn well that washing one's hands before eating doesn't accomplish very much toward godliness. It reflects a Jewish tradition of going above and beyond the actual rules as a way of setting the highest standards for themselves. The disciples are in no danger of violating God's law, only the social customs of the day. Jesus chastises the Pharisees for making law and custom the same thing. One is from God, and one is not.

The Pharisees and the scribes are picking at this one small lapse while ignoring the much larger issue, which are all these sins Jesus lists. None of those sins, you will note, come about because people forget to wash their hands with soap and water, despite anything your mother may have told you. 

Actually, maybe they come about exactly because people do wash their hands. When the focus is on rigid adherence to rules, rather than being responsible to others, bad things happen. I heard someone talk once about evangelical friends who "think that if they are turned on when they see a woman they have 'committed adultery in their heart.'" He continued, "with that kind of pressure, people blow," meaning they go on to commit actual adultery, or they act out in other ways.

This is exactly what Roberta Bondi talks about with the need to be above reproach. If you can't admit that you have sexual thoughts and desires just like everyone else, you can't control those thoughts and desires. More to the point, you won't be able to be responsible to your spouse or family.

Doing

So how can we become doers of the word, not just hearers? I don't believe that any of you are prone to any of the major sins listed by Jesus — fornication, theft, murder, adultery, and so forth. If you are, I really don't want to know, because then we have to do something about it. So it doesn't seem like we'll have to worry about the big-ticket items.

The smaller sins are another story, though. You all are nice people and I like you. But in the end, we're all just human. We all get into "envy, slander, pride, and folly" at some point. 

Perhaps the most important step is simply to say that much. I too do wrong, because I too am a sinner, as are we all. Once we admit that, we can begin to do something about it.

And then there's prayer. I encourage you all to spend time in formal prayer. But informal prayers might be even more effective: saying in the moment, "God, I wish I weren't like this," "God, help me be less nasty when I talk." When we want to be different than what we are, when we yearn for the freedom to be better people — that's when the change begins to happen.

Repentance, or turning back to God, is also important because it involves the desire to change. It also involves the willingness to take a good hard look at what we've done in the past. It doesn't have to be self-hatred or mortifying ourselves by replaying our regret over and over again. All it takes is saying "Hey, maybe I could have done better there," or "You know, I did okay. I should do that more often." Allowing yourself to be pulled toward positive patterns of behavior can be as effective, if not more, than turning away from the negative.

Giving and receiving forgiveness can be just as simple. Start with saying "I'm sorry" when you've done something mean or harsh or thoughtless. When someone says "I'm sorry" to you, accept their apology. This may take some time and effort on your part. It may require you to explain to the person that there's more to their offense than they understand, and therefore more responsibility for them to accept. As difficult as it is, the ministry of forgiveness is part of staying in relationship.

But don't take responsibility for things you are not responsible for. Again women in particular are prone to believing they are to blame for the abuse that comes their way. It is not humility to make yourself responsible for someone's sin against you. It is to be victimized once more.

I say that clearly because the work that must begin before any other is the work of healing. Confession, prayer, repentance, giving and receiving forgiveness can themselves bring healing. But only the grace of God in Christ can bring true fullness of life. You are indeed beloved children of God, brothers and sisters in Christ, no better and no worse than anyone else. So act justly, love mercy, walk humbly. Wash your hands before dinner, not for the sin but for the germs, and you will be all right. Amen.