September 1, 2024
I just realized I’m behind on posting sermons….
As you might imagine, I have conflicted feelings about events like the Taste of Madison that occur outside the steps of our church throughout the year. While they bring activity and excitement to the city, they also create challenges. Parking is impossible; the noise of loudspeakers and bands is distracting. At least, since we’ve installed air conditioning in the nave, the smells of food preparation are less intrusive. Still, our presence on the square serves as a reminder to passersby of the presence of God in the world and often we welcome visitors into our worship who might never otherwise have attended.
Later today many of us will gather in Maple Bluff for our parish picnic where different culinary delights will be on offer and opportunities for fellowship and fun as well. It’s appropriate to enjoy oneself on a day like today, with beautiful weather, Labor Day weekend, and the beginning of the NFL season all beckoning for our attention.
In our lectionary cycle, we are finally back in the Gospel of Mark and immediately we are confronted with a challenging reading in which conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees takes center stage. But before turning to the gospel, I would like to direct your attention to the reading from the letter of James, which offers an interesting perspective on the gospel text.
The letter of James was probably written late in the first century. It’s associated with James, the brother of Jesus, who was a leader of the early Christian community according to the book of Acts and an early martyr for the faith. It’s an interesting text because it is probably evidence of what we refer to as Jewish Christian communities—early communities made up largely of Jewish believers who continued to practice aspects of Jewish ritual life and purity laws.
In today’s excerpt, there are several intriguing themes that have fueled theological reflection over the centuries: the notion of the “implanted word,” the emphasis on giving; “being doers of the word, and not hearers only.” That latter notion is part of the reason that Martin Luther dubbed James “a gospel of straw.”
But for me, one of the most fascinating ideas is this: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”
It’s a verse that might surprise you if you’ve never heard it before. And if you have, or even if you are hearing it for the first time, you might find it especially appealing. It seems to say that true religion, “pure and undefiled” if you will, is focused on what we in the twenty-first century would call “outreach:” caring for widows and orphans, the homeless, our food pantry, and that other forms of religion are less important, or even defiled and impure.
But let me complicate that a bit for you. The word translated here as “religion” is literally worship and seen in that light, how is caring for widows and orphans worship? For when we think of worship, we think of what we are doing right now, singing hymns, praying, celebrating the Eucharist, and those other things like caring for widows and orphans are done outside of Sunday morning worship.
The terms pure and undefiled, even unstained strike us strangely in our contemporary world, even if in the case of their appearance in the Letter of James, we can easily interpret them in ways that make them less, indeed even support our own personal preferences and commitments. When we see the same English word in the verses from the gospel of Mark that we heard this morning, we may have a slightly different reaction.
As I said, we’ve finally returned to the gospel of Mark, where we will remain for the rest of the liturgical year, until the end of November. To recap a bit, so far in Jesus’ public ministry, we have seen him heal a number of people of their diseases and infirmities, cast out demons, walk on water, calm storms, and feed five thousand people. We haven’t been introduced to much of his teaching or preaching, one or two parables and that’s about it. As fast-paced as Mark is, the gospel will pick up in speed and intensity as we move inexorably toward Jesus’ final confrontation with the Roman authorities and their Jewish sycophants in Jerusalem. And in today’s reading, we see another aspect of the conflict between Jesus and other Jewish communities and leaders.
What’s at stake here, as it almost always is when Jesus is in conflict with other Jews in the gospels, is the interpretation and authority of Torah, Jewish law. The Pharisees were a group within Judaism that sought to extend the role of Torah to the daily life of ordinary people. Their interpretation of Torah was intended to offer guidance in what to do so that the central precepts of Torah were maintained. They called this “building a wall around Torah.” Take the 10 commandments: “Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.” Well, that’s great, but what does it mean to keep the Sabbath Day holy? The Pharisees explained that by offering guidance on what constituted work, and how much work one could do on the Sabbath.
In fact, the traditions to which Mark refers here are more than that. The rabbis speak of written Torah—the five books of Moses, and oral Torah, what was handed down orally over the centuries: the interpretation of law for changing society. Eventually in the 3d century after Jesus, that oral Torah would also be compiled and written down, in what is called the Talmud and still used in contemporary Judaism.
In today’s gospel, the issue at hand is hand-washing. The Pharisees understood ritual hand-washing as keeping oneself ritually clean before eating; other Jewish groups saw things differently and Jesus’ disciples, apparently, couldn’t be bothered. It’s worth pointing out that the word translated as “defiled” here is a different word than the one used in James. Here, the word literally means “common” as distinguished from “sacred” or set apart.
Jesus’ answer, as it so often does, changes the terms of the debate. The issue is no longer whether or not to maintain ritual cleanliness, but the deeper meaning of defilement, or being “set apart.” Jesus points out that what matters is what is in the heart, not the particular ritual action, and here he lists all the ways in which we might defile ourselves by our thoughts.
And that may be where we come back to the letter of James and to our own context.
The world is watching. As we struggle to make sense of what’s happening in this nation and around the world, as we struggle to find our own way in these difficult times, James offers us some simple advice. He reminds us where our focus should be and what the pitfalls are. It’s easy to look in a mirror, he says, to focus on ourselves, instead of looking to God. We should avoid criticizing others. He says that unbridled speech is worthless religion: good advice in the face of the noise, hate, and anger all around us now, that too often escalates from rhetoric to hateful action.
And he reminds us of our duty to care for the marginalized: widows and orphans, yes; but also all those who our society despises, rejects, and leaves behind. And finally, he admonishes us to keep ourselves unstained by the world. It may be unfamiliar, troubling language, but it’s worth exploring whether even this might provide us with guidance. Can we, by our actions, our words, our disposition, bear witness to the love, grace, and mercy of Christ, to a world that too often sees Christians and Christianity in very different terms? Can we, by our actions and words, change our homes, neighborhoods, and workplaces for the better?
And finally, and perhaps this is the most difficult of all, what would are worship look like if we truly cared for widows and orphans in their distress? What would it look like if we welcomed the most vulnerable in our society and community, the ostracized and marginalized? How would our worship and common life change? To unite various aspects of our religious lives—worship and outreach, worship and evangelism, could truly transform who we are as a community and as followers of Christ.
