“Do Better”
Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 1, 2024
James 2:17-27
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Children’s Message:
Hand sanitizer
You all know what this is, right? And what do we use it for? Yes—to kill the germs on our hands. Why is that important? Are there times when you’re told you should wash your hands? (after using the bathroom, before meals)
In today’s gospel, Jesus’ disciples started eating without washing their hands. Except it wasn’t like it is today. It wasn’t understood that washing hands with soap and water would get rid of germs. It was a religious rule—not health.
Do we have religious rules here? In our church, not a whole lot. There are rules in lots of churches—about behavior, about who is welcome, about cursing, even about what you wear. The church leaders in Jesus’ time got angry that his disciples weren’t following the rules. And Jesus told them that what is most important is how we treat others. When the rules point to that, then they should be followed. When they don’t, the rules aren’t as important.
So, what do you think about the rules about hand sanitizer? Is it important to wash hands and use sanitizer? Why?
Let’s pray. Dear God, thank you for giving us guidance for how to treat people. Help us respect and trust that guidance. Amen.
Message:
Theologian Debie Thomas tells about growing up in a conservative evangelical church. In her church, jewelry was absolutely not allowed. No simple earrings, no plastic bangles, no cross necklaces. Nothing. Which meant she wasn’t allowed to wear them to school, either. Her parents’ explanation was that adornment got in the way of worship. That by avoiding material distractions, she would grow as a Christian. In fact, the church was so strict that anyone who came wearing any form of jewelry—even visitors unaware of the rule—could be denied Communion.
But rather than growing closer to God, this seemingly random rule got in the way. It caused resentment and anger. She felt excluded and weird at school. She felt as if God cared more about her outside than her inside.
It was many years later that she learned where it all began. Her great-grandparents were young adults when a charismatic revival came through South India. Many young adults converted. But it often cost them a great deal—both socially and personally. She explains that this was a time when gold was a sign of social wealth and influence in India. Families judged each other’s worth by the weight of the jewelry their women wore. And when fathers couldn’t produce enough jewelry for a daughter’s dowry, the daughter remained unmarried.
So, in this new church, it was decided that in order to build up the community in Christ, the divisions of wealth must be kept out. That meant refusing to participate in the social snobbery symbolized by jewelry. Instead, no one wore jewelry. It was a sign of humility and equality. It was a sign of God’s non-discriminating love.
Of course, as the social context changed—as this flavor of the church found its way to the U.S.—the rules remained the same. Only now, it didn’t carry the same meaning. It didn’t hold the same value. The rule that was once meant to establish community and justice was merely used to exclude and demean.
This is what happens when contexts change, but practices don’t.
Maya Angelou has been quoted as saying, “Do the best you know. And when you know better, do better.” Today’s gospel reading sounds as if Jesus just wants to ignore the religious rules that have been in place for centuries—that all Jewish people have held to these rules, and that they were handed down by God in the Torah. But, in fact, the rules for handwashing are not found in the Old Testament. And Jesus doesn’t say the rules don’t matter.
What matters is what the rules are for. How do they build up community? How do they serve the people? The rules about hand washing had nothing to do with preventing germs before handling food. They were originally established as an expression of koinonia—relationship-building. Everyone being placed at the same level. Everyone starting from the same place.
But eventually, it became a barrier—a distinction between the clean and unclean. In this case, those words mean worthy and unworthy. Those who are elevated above the ‘unwashed masses.' The practice of koinonia had been co-opted into a political and divisive line in the sand—all original meaning left behind.
And this happens all the time with religious texts. Consider how various verses from both Old and New Testament have been used to defend slavery, to ostracize queer folx, to attack Jewish communities. The first three words of one of my seminary text books was: “Context. Context. Context.” When we don’t know the ‘why’ of a passage and take it at face value, we at the very least do a disservice to Scripture—and at worst, destroy life and defile God’s good Word. And without the ‘why,’ rules become arbitrary and are used to hurt, not build up.
And until you can discover the ‘why,’ I offer a very simple litmus test for our practices and rules. That is: our traditions and practices should NEVER be used as weapons. They should never be used to keep people out, tear people down, or deny full life and hope to anyone. Ever.
What’s interesting about both of today’s readings is that they sort of provide bumpers for living a faithful life. You know—like the bumpers used when bowling, to keep the ball from going into either gutter. The gospel passage challenges religious practice, particularly when it does more harm than good—when the theory of the rule doesn’t play out in reality. And the first reading from James points out that no practice at all also doesn’t do anyone any good. If all we do is study the Scripture without putting it into practice and living it, then we’re only observing Christ, not following him.
The readings meet in the middle. What we do is important—but it needs to be informed by careful study and gracious understanding of God’s Word. How we treat others is an expression of what we believe about God. We are to practice what we preach—and we are to preach God’s good news for all people.
We are to do the best we know. And when we know better, we are to do better. Not because it makes us better people or better Christians or more likely to go to heaven. Not because God needs our good works in order to boost God’s ego. But because this is what we are created for. This is what gives life to creation—including our own hearts. Our good works, our faithful living, our care for others should always be an expression of love for God.
Rules and laws, while important, will never make a society moral. We can’t legislate morality any more than we can intimidate people into believing in God. What we can do is insist on justice—an effort to protect those most vulnerable among us, those who have been hurt by us, those who long to know God’s presence in practical ways. That may mean washing hands or wearing masks. It may mean providing gluten-free, peanut-free, corn-free, soy-free options. It may mean a clear, unwavering statement of welcome to those who have been shut out far too many times to count. It may mean challenging laws in order to protect rights.
We have not always gotten our theology or our practices right. But hopefully we continue to learn. We continue to know better. And we strive to do better—for the sake of the world and in glory to God.
Pastor Tobi White
Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church
Lincoln, NE