Mark 7: 5-8, 14-15, 21-23
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
August 30, 2015
Hear
these words from UCC pastor and poet Martha Spong, entitled “Dirty Hands”:
They smudge the screen,
leave prints on the doorjamb
with their unwashed hands.
I send them to the sink,
call, “Did y’all use soap?”
But Jesus says, “Come. Eat.”
Don’t
we all have this rule in our homes? Wash
your hands before you come to the table.
Every time we use a restroom in a restaurant, fast food place, grocery
store, or gas station we see the sign:
“Employees must wash hands before returning to work”. Many places of business have hand gel or foam
dispensers for their patrons. Hospitals
depend on it. We really wouldn’t want
any of these folks breaking this rule.
The scribes and Pharisees don’t sound that unreasonable. Why is Jesus getting on their case?
Ritual
handwashing was more of a human tradition than a commandment from God. Yes, there were purity laws regarding full
immersion as a common practice, but this was mostly in Judea. Handwashing became a way of imitating the
mikvah bath and remembering that what God desires is a clean heart. The Pharisees and scribes, however, seemed to
be of the mind that it would be preferable for these unwashed disciples to go
hungry than to eat with them and their dirty hands. These power brokers have no desire to enable
the disciples and their seemingly sinful ways.
I
want to talk about enabling when it comes to ministry and helping others. I’ll begin with a story. The week before we left for Pipestem, WV,
church groups from Monroe, CT and Granby, CT left for their mission trip to
work on the Cheyenne River Reservation in La Plant, South Dakota with their
mission partner, Simply Smiles. Most of
their work focused around the community center: they continued construction on
a large greenhouse and playscape area, as well as the interior of a new
home.
The
pride and joy of the week was a new archery range. As part of his final project, an Eagle Scout
led the construction of the range, including a platform and backdrop
screen. Both kids and adults went
through a rigorous series of safety lessons, and before the week was out, the
arrows were flying.
While
the kids were testing out their archery skills, Steven, one of men from the
reservation, remarked, “Usually, when something like this gets built, kids
would come and set fire to it. There’d
be nothing left in the morning.” Worried
that this might happen to the archery range, my friend Debbie asked, “Is that
what’s going to happen?” Steven replied,
“Not now. Five years ago, maybe, but not
now.”
People
have asked my friends why they help those who live on the reservation. If they can’t get a job or if their house is
falling apart, why don’t they move? If
they drink too much or take drugs, why bother building them a safe, warm
house? If they’ve got diabetes and can’t
eat right, why plant them a garden and build a greenhouse?
The
reason why the archery range won’t be burned down, but would have five years
ago is because of relationships. Five
years ago people who came to help on the reservation were suspect. Maybe they were do-gooders, come to feel good
about themselves and their work and then leave.
Maybe they were going to tell folks on the rez how to live, clean up
their lives, disrespect their culture.
Maybe it hurt too much to open up and hope again.
Instead
people on the reservation were asked “What do you need? What would you like? What do you want?” So they built a house for a man who drinks
too much and a few other houses. Every
summer there’s guitar camp for all ages, and everyone gets a free guitar. On Wednesdays anyone can come to a community
dinner or breakfast. Each morning
there’s a Walk On at the school track.
In the spring not only does the community garden get planted, but anyone
who wants to can take a garden class and learn how to start their own vegetable
garden.
Even
so, none of this guarantees anything.
Many folks still drink too much, abuse drugs, and use violence to solve
their problems. Some still take their
own lives, unable to see any other way out of their pain. My friends arrived the week after a 15 yr.
old girl took her own life.
When
we’re worried about enabling someone, what we’re really scared of is being
vulnerable, of being hurt, being used, of not really being able to help someone,
being powerless. There’s an old
proverb: Love me when I least deserve
it, because that’s when I really need it.
Love is not love when it involves a quid pro quo or an expectation. Last night I heard a song lyric: “Did I make
myself weak so someone else could be strong?”
Worrying
about enabling can sometimes disable ministry, and ministry is all about
relationships—imperfect, human relationships.
Life and love and following Jesus—all of it is messy. We’ve made and we’ll continue to make
mistakes, but the mistakes are a sign that at least we’re trying. As for being hurt, being used, that’s why we
have Jesus so we can keep learning how to forgive seventy times seven, to
forgive as we have been forgiven, receive our daily bread, ask that God’s will
be done on earth as it is in heaven, lead us not to the time of trial but
deliver us from evil.
All
of us have dirty hands on this one. If
we’ve loved someone, helped someone, we’ve left our share of grimy smudges; our
fingerprints are everywhere. What
matters is our hearts, and what’s in our hearts when we’re asked to give.
We
need to let go of the outcome. We can
pray this prayer: “O God, you know what
this person, this situation, this community, this world needs today. You know what is needful for this person to
do what you would have them do, to be the person you would have them be. If I am needed, I am here. I trust you, God. Help them to trust you. Thank you, God. Amen.”
Ultimately
it’s about enabling God to do what God will do.
God works through connection and relationships. And what God does is love, unconditionally,
without limit, fully and fearlessly. O
God, use us to be a part of your fearless work of grace. Amen.
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