“If You Want to Be First . . .” Mark 9: 30 – 37

            We’re number 1. We’re number 1.  We’re number 1. You’ve heard that chant?  You’ve yelled that chant?  So you’ve wanted to be number 1?  Number 1 in relationships—with your boyfriend or girlfriend—the one he’ll choose to marry—the one she’ll choose to marry.  Number 1 with your children—to hear your child say, “my Mommy’s the best.”  So you’ve wanted to be number 1—maybe in academics?  To ace the test, to win the spelling bee, to be named valedictorian?  Have you ever wanted to be number 1 in your work?  To be named teacher of the year; to be promoted to manager, superintendent, VP, or CEO?  Have you ever wanted to be number 1 on a team? To be recognized as “the most valuable player?”  The desire to be number 1 permeates our society and culture.  At most ages and stages of our lives, we want to be number 1 in some way. 

            Hmmm, we have something in common with Jesus’ disciples. For in today’s text, they are “caught” arguing over who is the  most valuable disciple.  I wonder if their conversations sounded anything like this:  Peter, James and John saying “Well, you know, Jesus did invite only us 3 on the mountain to see him transfigured in glory with Moses and Elijah—oops we weren’t supposed to tell anybody about that yet.” Philip or Andrew saying,  “We’re number 1 because we were the first to go invite others to join this group.” Whatever form the conversation took, along the way to Capernaum, they were arguing about ranking—who was number 1.

            Then Jesus responds.  Under God’s rule, if you want to be number 1, then become a servant to all.  Now Jesus’ disciples were shocked by his answer as were Mark’s original audience.  For you see, the Roman empire—in which Jesus and his followers and Mark and his audience lived—the Roman empire was all about hierarchy, status, and power.  In Jesus and in Mark’s day, the movers and the shakers held big dinner parties, inviting only the people who could advance their careers or add to their power.  Being number 1 meant wearing the most expensive clothes, eating the most exotic and rich foods, and being seen with the most powerful popular people. As a person rose in importance, his entourage of favor-seekers increased.  Jesus’ answer—to be first, you must become a servant of all—is topsy-turvy for the Greco-Roman culture.  To be the most important, the most powerful, the number 1 disciple is to be a servant.  And not just any servant but a diakonos—that’s the Greek word used here.  The diakonos was the least of all servants—the one who served the food.  Isn’t that interesting?  Jesus—the one who fed 5000 with just 2 fishes and 5 loaves of bread, Jesus—the one who says, “Come to me and you will never be hungry,” Jesus—the one who offers us the bread of life—Jesus likens the number 1 disciple to the servant who feeds.  Jesus likens the number 1 disciple to the servant who makes sure everyone else’s needs are met before attending to his own.

            This is the discipleship we are called to.  Jesus tells us to serve others with no regard for how or even whether we might benefit.  So, we offer a smile, a kind word, and a genuine “thank you,” to the harried, over-worked, and perhaps grumbling clerk.  We put gas in the car of the young man hoping for a job in Kansas City.  We carry water to parade watchers and participants waiting in the July heat.  We do it without expecting a kind word in return, without expecting subsequent proof of employment, without expecting “familiar-from-the-parade” faces to show up in worship the next Sunday.

            Jesus says, “Whoever wants to be first must be least of all and the servant of all.”  Remove yourself from the hierarchy, he says.  Let go of seeking status.  And then he does something topsy turvy.  Just as there was a pecking order in the Greco-Roman society of his day, there was a pecking order in the household.  Unlike our culture today, where children are not only valued, but are often the center of attention and the locus of energy in the family, in the Greco-Roman household, children were non-persons. They didn’t matter. Children stayed with the women—hidden away from the men and their important conversations and activities.  Jesus takes a child—a non-person, one who should be elsewhere—and welcomes her into the activity, into the discussion, and into the fellowship of his disciples that day.  Jesus likens welcoming the child to welcoming him and as such, welcoming the One who sent him.  If you want to welcome God, welcome the least in the household—the child, the non-person—welcome the least in society—the nobody, the bullied.  Welcome and treat the ones who don’t count with respect and honor. 

            Welcome—isn’t it interesting that Mark has Jesus connect serving to welcoming?  Jesus links hospitality to being the number 1 disciple.  Over the last few months, our Session has been praying and reflecting on who God calls this congregation to be and what God calls us to do here in Paola. Our mission statement is the result of that prayerful reflection.  We are a welcoming community of faith seeking to help every person discover God’s transforming love as we proclaim the good news!

            Welcome—Jesus tells us to welcome even the non-persons, even the ones who “should be” elsewhere.  Jesus tells us to welcome even those at the bottom of the social, cultural, economic, physical, mental, and emotional hierarchy.  So, we open our doors—literally—we open our doors each Sunday morning to welcome all.  We open our doors—figuratively—we open our hearts and our minds and our resources to all who might be seeking God’s presence, God’s love, God’s grace.

            Welcome—does welcome mean “Hi, how are you?  It’s good to have you worship with us today”?  Yes . . .  and it means inviting people we know from outside this congregation to join us in what we find meaningful here.  H and J have a square dancing friend interested in Bible study.  She is a faithful member of another church in Paola and she longs for Bible study.  So, they invited her to our Wednesday morning study. 

            Welcome—does it mean inviting others to join in “our” activities?  Yes . . . and it means arranging the invitation, so they’ll feel comfortable to come.  B & Jq invited their bar-b-que connoisseur friend Clifton, to the church picnic . . . and they gave him a ride there.  CL arrived with folks he knew and was invited by the chef to share his culinary skills. 

            Welcome—does it mean arranging our invitation to decrease anxiety and increase the comfort of our guests?  Yes . . . and it means equipping all of us—not just the inviters, but all of us—to be truly hospitable.  M is “one of the group” now—encouraged and affirmed by others in our Wednesday study.  Folks at the bar-b-que made a point to chat with CL, to get to know him, and to invite him to join us in worship—especially when they learned CL’s church is disbanding, and he is searching for a place to re-plant his faith roots.   

            Welcome—what does it mean?  To invite others into the fellowship, study, worship, and mission activities we are currently engaged in?  Yes . . .  and it means envisioning other opportunities for this congregation to share God’s transforming love.  It means dreaming beyond, turning outward, and moving forward.

            Welcome—how do we welcome?  We offer our resources to God. We offer ourselves, our time, our talents, our passion, our space, our money to be used for God’s good purposes here in this corner of God’s good world.  Welcome—we share God’s transforming love through faith deepening experiences—experiences that offer physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual stimulation.  Welcome—we share God’s transforming love in relationships—relationships that connect generations, relationships that accompany us through tragedies, relationships that celebrate our joys. 

            When we welcome as Christ calls us to welcome, we focus on others.  We ask how can this person experience God’s transforming love?  We ask what does this group of people need in order to hear—to internalize—the good news?  And we open up our hope chest of resources searching for the connection we will make with them to tangibly share the good news of God’s grace-full hospitality.  When we welcome as Christ calls us to welcome, we become other-centered; we become a servant of all.  When we welcome as Christ calls us to welcome, we no longer care about our rank, for we realize who indeed is number 1—God—our Creator, our Redeemer, our Sustainer. 

Who Do You Say That I Am? Mark 8: 27 – 38

             In August of 1980, I told my parents I was bringing a friend home with me from Austin to attend my brother’s best friend—Steve’s—wedding.  He’s just a friend, I said.  Don’t make a big deal out of his coming to Angleton.  He’s just a friend.  My mom took my words at face value.  While hospitable towards this friend, Kevin, she focused her attention and time on my brother and sister-in-law, who flew in from Oklahoma for the wedding.  My dad, however, responded differently.  Perhaps he gathered from watching me with Kevin that my identification of him as “just a friend” was not quite accurate.  Forming his own conclusion about Kevin’s identity—in relationship to me—he was more than hospitable, and he spent a lot of time with and energy on Kevin.  And then there was my Uncle Vernon—who meeting and visiting with Kevin decided my relationship with Kevin had no bearing on his interaction with him.  Uncle Vernon liked Kevin for who he was, and he welcomed Kevin into his home whether or not he came with me.

             “Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples.  How they understand his identity frames their expectations. How they understand his identity influences their understanding of his ministry. How they understand his identify shapes their response to Jesus.  What kind of risks are they willing to take for him? How they understand his identity shapes their discipleship.

            Very few of the people we meet in Mark’s gospel correctly identify Jesus, and usually when they do, he responds with “SShhh, don’t tell anyone.” Perhaps this is because Mark wants his audience to chew for awhile on the question “Who is Jesus?” Perhaps Mark wants his audience to ponder and reflect until at the end of his gospel, answering with certainty, Mark’s audience will be spurred into action—sharing the good news of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection—becoming part of the in-breaking of God’s rule in the here and now.

            “Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples, and Peter responds, “You are the Messiah.” Score one for Peter; he got the right answer.  Peter—remembering the basics of his Jewish “Sunday School” classes—pictures the Messiah as one who will reunite the Jews into a strong, glorious, independent kingdom.  For Peter, the Messiah is a new King David, a political savior.  An Americanized picture of Peter’s Messiah is the white-hatted cowboy—riding into awestern town for a shootout with outlaws who have been terrorizing the townspeople.  In Mark’s telling of this event, Jesus expands on Peter’s answer with a different title—Son of Man.  Now the Son of Man was a term used in the apocalyptic Old Testament book of Daniel.  In it we read that in the end times, the Son of Man will come in power and glory to set up God’s never-ending rule of justice over the whole earth.  In today’s text, Mark gives Jesus 2 titles—one who is expected soon (Messiah) and one who will come at the end of time (Son of Man).  Both are figures imbued with God’s power and glory.  Both are saviors—one is expected to save the Jews and the other to save the world. 

            “Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples, and Peter responds, “You are the Messiah.” Score one for Peter; he got the right answer.  But Peter does not understand what that actually means.  When I taught high school algebra, I insisted my students show their work, to explain how they got their answers to homework, pop quiz, and test questions.  The answer alone is not what’s important, I told them.  The process you follow to get that answer, the use of the algorithms and properties to make sense of both the problem and the solution—that’s what translates into actually understanding the math concepts.  Peter has the right answer—Messiah—but he does not know what Messiah means to Jesus.  Then Jesus begins to share that the Messiah and the Son of Man are one in the same.  And, instead of wielding power and uniting the Jews, the Messiah will be rejected.  Instead of showing strength, the Son of Man will suffer and be killed.  Rather than ushering in God’s rule all at once at the end of time, the Son of Man will offer glimpses into God’s rule through his teaching and his miracles of feeding and healing.  Slowly, painfully, in small increments, God’s rule will be made known—but not through glory or power or influence.  Slowly, painfully, in small increments, God’s rule will be made known—as the Son of God enters humanity—suffering as all humans do; living a life obedient to God’s call to justice, mercy, and love; dying at the hands of evil, ignorance, and disbelief; and rising from the dead to reveal God’s ultimate sovereignty and overpowering love. 

            The focus of Mark’s Jesus is not sometime later in the future but now in the present.  The subjects of Mark’s Jesus are not the powerful but the weak.  The emphasis of Mark’s Jesus is not glory over but suffering with others.  Peter got the right answer—at least the right title.  What he lacked was the supporting definition and explanation.  What he lacked was understanding. 

            “Who do you say that I am?”  Jesus asks the disciples and Peter responds, “You are the Messiah.” Then Jesus explains what it means to be the Messiah, what it means to be the Son of Man.  Along with that explanation comes a picture of what it means to be a follower, a disciple of Jesus.  For the disciple is expected to enter into the same ministry as Jesus.  The disciple is expected to enter into the suffering of those who are weak.  The disciple is expected to enter into a life of faithful obedience to the sovereign God—giving up self-serving ambition.  The disciple is expected to work towards the in-breaking of God’s rule in the here and now.

            Who do you say that Jesus is?  How you identify Jesus frames your expectations.  We teach our children “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so . . . Yes, Jesus love me. The Bible tells me so.”  That sets up the expectation of Jesus’ loving presence in our lives.  It sets up an expectation of learning our faith through the stories of our faith ancestors—Biblical witnesses of God’s love in action. Who do you say Jesus is? Allow me to offer my visual response—arms open, face beaming, posture inviting.  This visual sets up an expectation of welcoming all. 

            Who do you say Jesus is?   How you identify Jesus influences your understanding of the good news.  How you identify Jesus influences how, with whom, and even whether you choose to share the good news. I grew up in a denomination that identifies Jesus as “personal Lord and savior.” The emphasis was individual relationship with Jesus—personal.  The goal was seeking obedience to God’s will instead of acting in self-interest—Lord. The focus was what happens when I die—eternal life—savior.  The good news was being “saved from eternal damnation.” The time frame was in the future rather than in the present. I have a different understanding now.  Rather than being “saved from,” I believe I am “saved for” a full, abundant life—a life in God’s presence—now, a life in God’s service—now.

             Who do you say Jesus is? How you identify Jesus shapes your response to him.  It shapes your discipleship.  Mark’s Son of Man had a “whole world” view.  “He’s got the whole world in his hands.”  So, savior—for Mark’s Jesus—is about saving this world and the people in it now.  Savior for Mark’s Jesus is deeply rooted in the Old Testament prophets—Amos, Hosea, and Micah.  They condemned the rich and powerful who “oppress the poor and crush the needy.”[1] They warned the movers and the shakers of the Lord’s requirement “to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.”[2]  Deeply rooted in these Old Testament prophets, Mark’s Jesus works on behalf of the powerless.  Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, healing the sick, and restoring outcasts to community were Jesus’ acts of bringing God’s justice to the present moment.  

            Identity—it frames our expectations, influences our understanding, and shapes our response.  Let me take you back to August of 1980.  He’s just a friend; don’t make anything out of his visit, so my Mom responded to Kevin as just a friend—no big deal.  Perceiving beyond the label I gave Kevin, my Dad identified him as someone special to me, so he responded at a deeper level.  My Uncle Vernon identified Kevin through his own experience with him—not anyone else’s.

            Identity—it frames our expectations, influences our understanding, and shapes our response.  Who do you say Jesus is?  Regardless of your answer to this question, you are welcome here.  Who do you say Jesus is?  Regardless of your level of comfort with sharing his identity with others, you are welcome to worship in this community of faith.  Who do you say Jesus is?  Regardless of your level of commitment to him, you are welcome to grow in your understanding of, faith in, and walk with God, the One the apostle Paul called “the One in whom we live and move and have our being.”[3] 

            Who do you say Jesus is? Regardless of your answer, you are welcome here.  But don’t be surprised if, as a participant in this faith community, you are nudged to step outside of your comfort zone—turning outward—to serve someone in need of God’s justice here and now.  Don’t be surprised if you are encouraged to let go of a your own desires to achieve God’s good purpose for others.  Don’t be surprised if you find yourself responding to God’s love in Jesus the Christ.  Don’t be surprised if—a few years from now, you look back and realize you have been transformed through the power of the Holy Spirit—the one sent by this Jesus.  

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[1] Amos 4:1

[2] Micah 6:8

[3] Acts 17: 28

A Refocus of our Mission Mark 7: 24 – 30

            My parents were not pet people.  We didn’t have pets when we were growing up.  When my brother, Chuck, was in college, he got a kitten for his apartment, formed a strong attachment to him, and then moved to an apartment that did not allow pets. I wondered what he was thinking when he brought his cat, Partner, to my parents’ house.  They were not pet people.  However, they reluctantly agreed to let Partner live on the screened-in porch. 

            Imagine my surprise when I came home for a weekend visit about a month later and found Partner in the house with my mom.  When my Dad got home from work and settled into his easy chair, I looked over and there was Partner—on the arm of the chair, and my Daddy was stroking him.  The next time I visited, my Dad had an open jar of peanut butter and a spoon in his hand when he settled into his easy chair.  He no sooner dipped a spoon into that jar and there was Partner on the arm of the chair licking that spoon!            The next time I came home, my mom had a story to tell me.  When she made chicken salad, my Daddy would sit at the table and de-bone the boiled chicken for her.  She was working at the counter, with her back to my Daddy and the table.  When she turned around, there was Partner, up on the table, and my Daddy was feeding him the cooked chicken skin and fat.  Mom snuck out of the kitchen to get her camera.  I still have a copy of that picture—Partner and Daddy de-boning the chicken.  Who would have guessed it?  That cat had won over both my non-pet parents’ hearts.  Pets and food and kitchen tables . . . I think of these reading today’s text.

            But I also squirm a bit reading the first part of today’s text.  I don’t like Jesus’ initial response to the Syro-Phoenician woman. This doesn’t sound like “my” Jesus—calling another human being a “dog.”  This doesn’t look like “my” Jesus—refusing to heal someone in pain.  I cannot recall any other instance of Jesus turning someone away.  So I find this text disturbing and difficult.  Thankfully, I have conversation partners as I approach it.

            We Presbyterians believe the Holy Spirit speaks to us, illuminating God’s word for us most clearly when we study God’s word in community.  That community includes not just the people sitting around the table—the study table—breathing the air in the room, but also theologians and Biblical scholars sharing their expertise in their published commentaries.  That community with whom we study and pray and seek insight, through the power of the Holy Spirit, includes theologians and scholars from across the ages.  So, faced with a disturbing and difficult text like today’s, I am comforted by the wisdom, knowledge, and insight of conversation partners like John Calvin and Martin Luther.

            Today’s text comes from the Gospel according to Mark—gospel, a new genre of literature, initiated by this author, whose purpose was not just to chronicle events in Jesus’ life and replay his conversations.  No, Mark’s purpose was to convey the good news—that through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, God’s rule is breaking in to the here and now.  We don’t have to wait until the end times to experience God’s loving desire for us and this world.  Mark’s vehicle for this good news is his story—constructed by ordering events not according to chronology but according to purpose and emphasis.[1]  

            Mark sets today’s text among Jesus’ travels to the Gentile areas of Phoenicia and the Decapolis.  The Roman government shipped grains which the poor, peasant Jewish share-croppers grew to these Gentile regions.  Three Sundays ago Judge Steve Montgomery talked about the forced famines in the Ukraine when grains from this breadbasket of Europe were shipped away to feed the Nazis in Germany or the Bolsheviks in Russia.  It was a similar situation in Galilee in Jesus’ time. 

            In Mark’s story, Jesus and his disciples have been seeking quiet, renewal, together time, but hounded by the crowds wherever they go, they are tired and frustrated.  “Hiding out” in someone’s home, their privacy is invaded by a Syro-Phoenician woman— probably one of the non-Jewish “haves” who took advantage of the poorer Jewish peasants in Galilee.  And she’s begging for a healing miracle for her daughter.  Mark’s story invites us to consider:  Perhaps Jesus reacts out of exhaustion. Perhaps Jesus reacts out of indignation that this upper class Gentile would make a demand of an itinerant Jewish teacher.  Perhaps Jesus reacts out of disgust that this woman has flaunted the accepted Jewish social code—only men approach men with requests.  Whatever his motivation, Jesus reacts with uncharacteristic rudeness—referring to the woman’s daughter as a dog. “The children have to be fed first. It isn’t right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”[2] I’m here to feed only the children, he says. His response is difficult for me to hear.  It disturbs me.  But the Syro-Phoenician woman is persistent. “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”[3] Why can’t you feed both children and dogs, Jesus?  Does your ministry have to be either or? Can it be both and?

            After listening to my conversation partners this week, I think Mark places Jesus in Gentile territory in order to emphasize Jesus’ moment of insight, his redirection.  The good news God sent him to proclaim includes Jews and Gentiles.  God’s rule of love and justice breaking in to the here and now is for all people—not just God’s covenant people.  Through Jesus’ ministry, God will work to break down dividing walls of hostility.  Jesus’ ministry will break down barriers—barriers between Jewish subsistence farmers and Gentile gentry, barriers between men and women, barriers between people and God. 

            Telling this story, Mark illumines the humanity of Jesus. “Mark is showing us that . . . to be the Son of God, the Messiah must suffer not only at the hands of those who do not understand him,”[4] the ones who will later nail him to a cross.  To be the Son of God, the Messiah must also suffer “the challenge of the human condition itself,”[5] shaking off the bigotry and the exclusivity that has accreted over the centuries.  Reminded of Jesus’ humanity, I am reassured that his loving presence in my day-to-day life is a presence of understanding even when I “don’t measure up” to my own expectations of discipleship.

            If Jesus needed to refocus his ministry, we should expect that we too, will be faced with opportunities for re-direction.  If Jesus needed to be reminded that God sees no difference between Jew and Gentile—loving both—we too, may need to be reminded that there are no external barriers between God and any human being.  If Jesus needed to be opened to ministering to all, we too, may need to be reminded not to shut the doors of our hearts, of our minds, or of our work on some people.  If Jesus could be opened to hear a prophetic voice from a woman—a foreign woman, a foreign woman from a totally different class; then we too, can be opened to hear the prophetic voice from those outside our community of faith saying “feed me—include me.”  If Jesus needed to be reminded that his mission extended beyond his ethnic group, we too, may need to be reminded that our mission extends to those who are different from us. 

            Our mission extends to those who can’t sit still—to those who squirm and whisper in worship, to those who like to sing contemporary Christian music, to those who like to sign songs as well as sing them.  Our mission extends to those who need opportunities to move and be joyful during worship.  Our mission extends to those who are different from us—to those who are hungry—to those who are hungry Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday as well as Monday and Wednesday—when the PACA food bank is open.  Our mission extends to those who are different from us—to those who live in a loving, committed relationship with someone of the same gender.  Our mission extends to those who are different from us—to those who don’t have loving, caring people in their lives—to those who are lonely.  Our mission— We are a welcoming community of faith seeking to help every person discover God’s transforming love as we proclaim the good news!—our mission is to share God’s love with everyone—those who are like us and those who differ from us. 

            As our new church year begins, it is appropriate to hear and ponder together a disturbing and difficult text.  As our new church year begins, it is appropriate to proclaim a text refocusing us on the inclusiveness of God’s good news.  As our new church year begins, it is appropriate to respond together—turning outward,

moving ourselves beyond our sanctuary walls—to serve God in our community. 

            That first visit back home after Chuck had left Partner with my mom and dad,

I asked Mom, “Why is Partner inside the house?”  She replied, “Your Daddy wanted him inside.”  In today’s text, Mark reminds his audience—then and now—“Your heavenly Daddy wants not only you and you but him and him, her and her, all of us—inside the house.  Your heavenly Daddy wants all of us inside and at his table.”  Amen.    

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[1] Joanna Dewey and Elizabeth Struthers Malbon, “Mark,” Theological Bible Commentary.  Ed by Gail R. O’Day and David L. Petersen.  Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009, p. 311. 

[2] Mark 7: 27 (CEB)

[3] Mark 7: 28 (CEB)

[4] Loye Bradley Ashton.  “Mark 7: 24 – 37   Theological Perspective.” Feasting on the Word Year B. vol. 4. Edited by David L Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009, p. 48. 

[5] Ibid.

It's what's on the inside that matters: Mark 7: 1 – 8, 14 – 15, 21 – 23

            Economically speaking, my mother’s family was poor.  They lived in a house with no running water and no indoor toilet.  Papa and Mae, and their children Evelyn, June, and Doris, my mom, shared their 4-room house with “old people.”  There were always at least one or 2 elderly people living with them—sometimes they were relatives, at other times they were simply elderly folks who had no one else to care for them.  They ate what Mae grew in the garden and what Papa hunted or fished or received in trade for the many odd jobs he did.  From the outside, it may have appeared as if they were destitute.  But neither my mom, nor my aunt, nor my uncle nor my Papa ever described those times as desperate or despairing.  Not only did they always have enough to eat, they always had enough to share—to share with the hoboes who found their way to Mae’s back door, to share with their hill country cousins—whose Christmases consisted of the fruit and nuts and toy Papa and Mae managed to provide, to share with the “old people” who lived with them.  They enjoyed life together.  When I was a child, my Papa told me story after story about my mom and her siblings growing up—about the jokes Papa played on them and the adventures they had in “their backyard”—the whole town of Angleton.  From the outside, it appeared as if they were destitute, but from inside the family, they were experiencing, full, happy, memorable lives.  My mom and aunt still talk about those days as “good times.” 

            What’s on the outside—what the world sees—isn’t always what’s real or what’s truly important.  That’s what Jesus is talking about in today’s text. 

            Jesus has been in ministry for some time now, and he and his disciples are tired and hungry.  In today’s text, they are sitting down to eat what should be a nice, quiet just-the-family-of-disciples meal.  And what happens?  When I was a child, there was a TV show called “Bewitched.”  Samantha Stevens was a suburban housewife and a witch. Although her mortal husband banned magic in their home, her wacky relatives were always creating some kind of magic mayhem.  She had a nosy neighbor named Gladys Kravitz who was suspicious of Samantha and all the goings on at her house. In today’s text, when Jesus and his disciples sit down to what should be a nice, quiet just-the-family-of-disciples meal, some Jerusalem Pharisees show up.  Like Gladys Kravitz, they are snooping around.  Since this was supposed to be a private meal, I picture the Pharisees, like Gladys, skulking in the bushes and peeking in the windows.  Like Gladys, they’re looking for some dirt—some dirt they can smear over Jesus’ reputation and smudge his popularity with.

            They’re looking for some dirt—and they find it, they think.  “Jesus, we noticed your disciples did not follow the ritual washing of hands before the meal.”  Now, friends, this washing of hands is mentioned in Leviticus as a ritual for the priests prior to their eating the sacrificial meat.  Over hundreds of years, some Jews—not all but some—had determined that whatever was prescribed for the priests should be embraced by all Jews who wanted to fully live into their set apart status. 

            Set apart status? Well, if we remember back to Exodus, freeing the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt, at Mt. Sinai God made a covenant with them.  You will be my holy—my set-apart people.  You will be my treasured possession among all the peoples, and I will be your God.[1]  The word Pharisees means “the ones set apart.” The Pharisees took this set apart-ness as what can be seen, what can be quantified, what is on the outside. The Pharisees took this set apart-ness as set apart = elevated and set apart = better than. 

            Like Gladys Kravitz, they’re snooping around, looking for some dirt, ready to point their fingers and say “gotcha.”  But Jesus—tired from back-to-back healings and on-the-go teaching, Jesus—frustrated by not getting to spend renewal and re-creation time with his disciples, Jesus—is not in a pastoral mood—at least not with the Pharisees. For he realizes they are not there to engage, to relate to or seek communion with.  He realizes they are there to divide, to separate, to tear apart. Rolling his eyes at these religious leaders, he takes a breath and lets them have it.  “Isaiah really knew what he was talking about when he prophesied about you hypocrites—when he wrote, This people honors me with their lips,
but their hearts are far away from me.[2]

            To the Pharisees, Jesus says, “Your heart is not guiding your practice.” As Isaiah had with the Jewish leaders before the Babylonian exile, Jesus declares to the Pharisees standing in front of him in Galilee:  God’s acceptance depends not on correct performance of ritual acts but on ethical behavior.  It’s not scrupulous observance of cleanliness laws, but morality that interests God.[3]  Turning to the crowds, Jesus continues.  It’s not what’s on the outside that matters but what’s on the inside.  It’s the state of your heart that matters. The attitudes that stem from your heart and the actions that proceed from your heart—that’s what matters to God. 

            Jesus’ words are meant for us today as well.  Like it or not, at times we are the Pharisees— following rules without examining the reasons supporting them; practicing traditions without questioning whether they are exclusive and considering who those practices might hurt; focusing on the rote of ritual without internalizing its meaning.  Using “religious rules inappropriately, we separate ourselves from one other.”[4]  Separated from others, we are separated from the God who creates us and calls us into relationship. 

            Jesus’ words apply to us today.  For at times, we are the crowd—needing to be reminded that “the evil intentions that come from our hearts—greed, deceit, envy, and arrogance—the self-centered intentions that bubble up from within us, separate us from God”[5] and from one another.  

            Separation from God or separation from one another—separation is not God’s will for us.  Relationship is what we are created for.  Healthy, strong, loving relationship is God’s will for us:  relationship—blossoming from hearts that seek out others, hearts that seek out those who share our desire to follow Christ. Healthy, strong, loving relationship is God’s will for us:  relationship—blossoming from hearts that seek out those who are lonely, despairing, doubting, and fearful.  Relationship—that’s what my mom’s family’s good memories are built on.  Relationship—that’s what provided the full, happy, memorable lives they experienced.

            Relationship—healthy, strong, loving relationship—that’s what we hope to build and involve everyone in here at First Presbyterian Church as our new church year begins.  Small groups will be forming—people will be coming together by age. Our pre-schoolers will build relationship playing and singing in the nursery—during Sunday School and—after joining us for the 1^st part of worship—during our sermon and pastoral prayer. Our elementary school aged children will continue to build relationships with each other singing, learning, and engaging in activities together in Sunday School from 9:30 – 10: 15. Our younger elementary-aged children will continue to build relationships with each other during our sermon and pastoral prayer because they’ll be playing and sharing a snack together in another room. Our middle schoolers will begin to build relationships with one another through song & study, discussion, service, and fellowship.  This will happen on Sunday mornings—in Sunday School—and in monthly outside-of-Sunday-School activities they plan.

            Relationship—healthy, strong, loving relationship—that’s what we hope to build and involve everyone in here at First Presbyterian Church as our new church year begins.  Small groups will be forming—people will be coming together by interest.  From now until Christmas, on Sunday mornings, our established adult group will continue to explore Why Jesus Matters—at their previously established time—9:15 – 10:00.  On Sunday mornings, another group of adults will come together for short-term studies on topics that bubble up from within the group. They will meet from 9:30 – 10:15. Small groups will be forming—people will be coming together by interest.  Mid-morning, mid-week, anyone interested in Bible study is invited to examine the metaphors John uses to describe Jesus.  Small groups will be forming—people will be coming together by interest.  On Sunday evenings, anyone interested in what Presbyterians believe and why—is invited to join the discussion and background study while munching on various snacks.

            Relationship—healthy, strong, loving relationship—that’s what we hope to build and involve everyone in here at First Presbyterian Church as our new church year begins. Small groups will be forming—people will be coming together by gender and purpose.  Women interested in Bible study and service will meet monthly—on the 2^nd Friday afternoon.  Using the Presbyterian Womens’ Horizon Bible study, they will learn about the “general epistles” and plan service projects together. Small groups will be forming—people will be coming together by gender and purpose. Hungry men will meet early on the fourth Wednesday morning each month at one of 4 local churches for a hearty, tasty breakfast; for fellowship; and for prayer. Relationship—healthy, strong, loving relationship—that’s what we hope to build and involve everyone in here at First Presbyterian Church as our new church year begins.  Relationship—inviting everyone to discover God’s transforming love.

            It’s not what’s on the outside that matters.  We can be short or tall or somewhere in-between; young or old or somewhere in between; handsome or pretty or homely or somewhere in-between; slender or hefty or somewhere in between.  It’s not what’s on the outside that matters.  It’s what’s on the inside that matters—what’s in our hearts.  What matters is that moved by God’s love for us, we extend a loving invitation to others—to those we already know and to those we are yet to meet.  We extend an invitation to join us in these newly-forming small-group relationships.  It’s not what’s on the outside that matters.  It’s what’s on the inside that matters—what’s in our hearts. What matters is that God’s love—bubbling up from within our hearts—pours out of us in our thoughts and attitudes, in our words and actions.  What matters is that we love so much we choose to accompany each other on this journey we call life.

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[1] Exodus 19: 5 – 6

[2] Mark 7: 6 (Common English Bible)

[3] Douglas R. A. Hare.  “Mark 7: 1 – 8, 14 – 15, 21 - 23  Exegetical Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol. 4.  Edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. p. 23.

[4] Amy C. Howe.  “Mark 7: 1 – 8, 14 – 15, 21 - 23  Pastoral Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol. 4.  Edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. p. 24.

[5] Amy C. Howe.  “Mark 7: 1 – 8, 14 – 15, 21 - 23  Pastoral Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol. 4.  Edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. p. 24.