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A Reflection for the Fifteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Those who cherish Charles Schultz’ “Peanuts” comic strip will no doubt remember Pig Pen, the mild-mannered, affable kid who, as Charlie Brown once said, was “the only person I know who can raise a cloud of dust in a snowstorm.” His face and clothes were always grey and grimy, and he was perpetually surrounded by his own personal whirlwind of filth. While the other characters never said it out loud, we were left to assume that poor Pig Pen probably didn’t smell great, either. It was all, as one character said, enough to take the curl out of naturally curly hair.

 

When we were growing up, our parents knew that it wasn’t a good thing to be known as the dirty, “unclean” kid in class, so many of us had a lot of help making sure that didn’t happen. We all learned the ritual of regular baths, teeth brushing, and hair combing. At some point, we made the jump to deodorant. For me, it began with Right Guard spray, then at some point I stepped up to the sophistication of Mennen Speed Stick… In a variety of ways, most of us learned early and often that cleanliness was next to a great many good things – Godliness, for sure, but also acceptance, respect, and popularity.

 

The Pharisees learned these lessons as well (even if, I expect, a lot of them could have used some Mennen Speed Stick on most days). To those who took seriously the faith of the chosen people of God, cleanliness was not just a matter of good manners but a matter of covenant law. Hygiene was something God expected. Habitual and ritual washing marked a person as someone who had faith and conviction, someone who was on the path of the righteous. So, when they noticed that Jesus and his disciples were not washing properly before eating, they saw it both as a personal defilement and an affront to God. And, because they were always looking for some mud to throw at Jesus, they pounced upon the opportunity. “Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders?” they trumpeted. “How can you eat with defiled hands?”

 

Jesus, in turn, pounced on the opportunity to teach a valuable lesson about what the law was really after, and about what really defiles. He begins by speaking the Pharisees language. He quotes the prophecy of Isaiah, who shared the lament of God that people were honoring God with their lips but their hearts were far away. As he quotes this ancient wisdom, however, Jesus also adds his own condemnatory spin. The prophet was right, Jesus said, about “you hypocrites.”

Even today, the charge is a serious one charged with emotion. It is a bold move to say to someone’s face that they are pretending to be something they are not – that they may be speaking and acting in respectable ways in public, but behind the scenes, out of the view of the wider world, their words and deeds are not respectable at all…

 

In the Inferno, part one of Dante’s epic Divine Comedy, the eighth circle of hell contains ten ditches or “bolgias.” Bolgia Six was reserved for hypocrites, the people who were the whitewashed tombs in life. They are forced to wear monk’s robes that on the outside appear to be made of gleaming gold, but which are in reality made of heavy lead. They are condemned to carry this burden through eternity. Now, that is a 14th century vision, so I offer it here only metaphorically and certainly not literally. But what bugged Dante was the same thing that bugged the prophet Isaiah, and that clearly bugs Jesus – which is people who pretend to be something they are not – who put forth a clean, respectful, even holy face on the outside, while their interior life is anything but clean, respectful, and holy.

 

I admit that it is hard to defend the scribes and Pharisees. Their behavior was pretty awful a lot of the time. And I think most people agree that hypocrisy – putting forth an image of light and concern, while in the shadows working to undermine and malign – is a particularly distasteful character trait. But in some ways I do think the scribes and Pharisees tend to get a bad rap – not because what they said and did was OK, but because we are so quick to use them as scapegoats. We like to wag the finger at them and tell ourselves, “Well, at least I’m not that bad,” as if we do not do the exact same things they did on a regular basis. How many of us can say that our cups are just as clean on the inside as they are on the outside? How many of us can say that our day to day lives live up to the beautiful, polished images on our Instagram and Facebook pages? How many of us can say that we always avoid the defilement that can take root within our interior lives?

 

Jesus wants the inside of our cup to be as clean as the outside. And it’s not just scribes and Pharisees who have to wrestle with that.

 

There are two implications of this teaching that we need to remember. The first is that this teaching pushes us to be thoroughly honest with ourselves about our own defilement, our own sin. Essentially, we all have to do what alcoholics do in Step 4 of recovery, when they muster the courage to make “a searching and fearless moral inventory” of themselves. As people of faith, this inventory cannot be limited to our outward appearances and actions, but must also confront the dark corners of our minds, our hearts, and our consciences. It’s not just about what we do or do not do; it is about what we think about, fret about, and fume about.

 

The second thing this teaching should do is to make us more gracious and compassionate with the assumptions we make about others. It is the old adage about judging books by covers often being a mistake. Pig Pen, for example, is not a bad guy. Frieda calls him “an absolute mess” and says derisively that he ought to look in a mirror. But when he does, he optimistically replies, “On the contrary, I didn’t think I looked that good.”

 

Before the Christmas play, he sets an ethical goal for himself, saying “In spite of my outward appearance, I shall try to run a neat inn.”

The tables are even turned on his dirty exterior. “Don't think of it as dust,” Charlie Brown says. “Think of it as maybe the soil of some great past civilization. Maybe the soil of ancient Babylon. It staggers the imagination. He may be carrying soil that was trod upon by Solomon, or even Nebuchudnezzar.”

 

Pig Pen is kind of amazing, really. He never lashes out, even when others put him down. He is an amazing musician who plays both the drums and the stand-up bass. He’s also got the keen instincts and lightning-quick reflexes to play third base on the baseball team. Anyone trusted to defend the “hot corner” has got to have some skills. But the thing I like most about Pig Pen is that he is real. If he is anything, he is authentic. He never pretends to be something he is not. He never denies his dirt, but he doesn’t let it drag him down, either. He is the antithesis of a hypocrite, the very opposite of a Pharisee, because I get the feeling that the inside of Pig Pen’s cup is actually much cleaner than the outside.

 

And if that could be said of us, then I have to think God would be pleased – that in God’s eyes, that would be more than enough… The Pharisees couldn’t see it – couldn’t see past Jesus’ dirty hands. What they failed to realize is that Jesus’ hands were always dirty… that he was always putting himself in positions that people said were unclean, because he could always see the beautiful center of every person.

 

Yes, Jesus’ hands were always grimy, just as God’s have been… from the moment the Lord’s fingers pushed down into the soil, pulled up a heaping handful, and began to mold humankind in the image of God. We spend so much time worrying about the clean image we project to the world, and meanwhile God is busy tending to the garden, bringing the light of life out of the darkness of the dirt… walking “round in muddy boots, sometimes rags and that’s the truth.”

 

And still we so often rear up in disgust and judgment when we see others with dirt on their hands, while Jesus is busy hanging out with the kids – kids with grimy, sticky hands. Parents know – nothing attracts dirt like the sticky hands of a kid… but nothing speaks to the heart of Jesus stronger than the heart of a child, either.  As the poet Martha Spong once wrote,

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.”

 

In this world that is so hung up on appearances, may we hear this teaching of Jesus not as much of a condemnation, but rather an invitation to be honest and courageous with ourselves, gracious and kind to others. And may we each commit ourselves to a simple but bold mantra – that “In spite of my outward appearance,    I shall try to run a neat inn.”


From  “Things That Defile”  -The Rev. Dr. Peter Bynum


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Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.

Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth.



MAY GOD’S BLESSING ABOUND ALL THE MORE – IN 2024!


May God Bless you and yours as we journey in this Pentecost Season…

May God’s Spirit empower us to

“expect great things from God and to attempt great things for God”…  and

May God Continue to Bless Union Church!

 

-Pastor Mark

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