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"A Line in the Sand"
Pentecost 13B
August 29-30, 2009
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! Cindy and I used to meet friends at a neighborhood restaurant not too far from where we lived in northern California. As it turns out, we hadn’t been there for a few weeks, but we arranged to have supper with another couple and meet at that particular restaurant. We got there to find that it was closed, that there had been a visit from the health department. Now I admit, without knowing anything about any violations, I still had a queasy feeling in my stomach even though I hadn’t eaten there for several weeks. I’ve noticed, not only in California but here in Minnesota, that whenever I go into a restroom in a restaurant of some kind, fast food or otherwise, there are always signs reminding those who work there to thoroughly wash their hands before returning to work. There’s something comforting about that, knowing that at least an attempt is being made to insist on good hygiene for food servers and preparers. I’ve been using a multitude of eye drops the past couple-three months. In each case, the directions stress that one should first wash hands with soap and water before administering the eye drops, that one should be very careful not to touch the tip of the applicator. Having recently gone through a variety of infections I certainly don’t want to add to my collection so I am scrupulous in following the directions. As you might surmise, I am a firm believer in thorough washing for hygienic purposes. So it makes me chuckle when I recall that the last time we had this text, three years ago, at another church, there was a youngster who very earnestly told his mom that “Pastor Bruce said that Jesus said we don’t have to wash our hands.” Fortunately for me, mom knew the context from which her son had quoted, or misquoted, me. So what is the context of our gospel today? First of all, we need to know that for the Pharisees, the washing of hands wasn’t a matter of cleanliness as in hygiene, but a matter of purity. The problem was that God had commanded that Levi and his sons and those who followed as priests were to wash in a prescribed manner, no one else, only those who were priests. The forebears of the Pharisees, however, had come to the conclusion that what’s good for Levi and company is good for us as well, that by this ritual cleansing, by ritually become pure, we become closer to God. Their traditions were overriding God’s command and then they were applying their traditions to the disciples, and of course, to Jesus. It was implicit that a criticism of Jesus’ disciples was a criticism of him because the teacher, the master, was responsible for his followers and deficiency in them was due to deficiency in the teacher, the master, in this case, Jesus. It’s like the Pharisees considered themselves religious insiders but to do that they had to define who was an outsider. What’s the best way to do that? Draw a line in the sand, a line in the sand of tradition, a line in the sand of theology. Pick your sand and draw a line. Interestingly enough, Christians of our time often do the same thing. There are many denominations where one of us cannot take communion, or participate fully, wholly, in a service, not because we don’t believe the same essentials – but because we have a difference in our traditions. By drawing a line in the theological sand, some can be labeled, defined as sinners, even though those drawing the line are also sinners. But for us, our sins are easier to accept than the sins of others. One of my favorite authors, Jaroslav Pelikan, a renowned contemporary theologian and church historian, has written that “Traditions are the living religion of the dead, traditionalism is the dead religion of the living.” And that is what happens when our traditions take on a life of their own. But I’m not saying that traditions, in and of themselves, are bad. Some weeks ago in our sermon series on worship, I mentioned that I consider myself to be somewhat of a traditionalist. Tradition for me is a connection to my parents, grandparents, and so on, all the way back to the time Norway became Lutheran. Some of our liturgical traditions are a connection for me (and you) all the way back to New and even Old Testament times. And so we try to wash ourselves, not for the sake of good hygiene but to make ourselves appear pure, to set ourselves apart. Oh, we don’t want to be set apart in a negative way, of course, so if everyone else would just worship, believe, practice the same things we do, why there wouldn’t be a need for a line in the sand. But we can wash ourselves until our skin wears off and we are still sinners. We can’t do it for ourselves, no matter how hard, how long we try. We can’t do it. But it has been done for us. I was baptized when I was two and a half months old. I don’t know if I had sinned at that point or not, but I know I was born in a state of sin, a state of separation from God. I know that I was helpless to do anything about it. For that matter I was pretty much helpless, period. All I was capable of doing was looking cute and adorable. Some things just never change… I’m still pretty much helpless when it comes to washing myself, purifying myself, and I’m still cute and adorable. The point is that I was washed once and for all in the blood of the Lamb, I have been washed by Christ’s sacrifice and victory on the cross, I am washed daily in the waters of that baptism, I am washed when I eat the bread of life, the Word of God, Word and Sacrament. It’s done for me. For me, for all who are believers by the grace of God, there is no line in the sand, it’s been wiped clean. AMEN. Rev. Bruce Hannem, Associate Pastor
Lutheran Church of the Cross, Nisswa, Minnesota |
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