Mark 7:1-8,14-15,21-23
Observing the traditions of the elders...
Once a year, the Diversity Committee at All Saints’ Episcopal School
organizes a series of events called Cross-Worlds.
Students and their families share their cultural background with one another
bringing delicious ethnic food,
telling stories about their ancestral countries of origin,
and showcasing their extraordinary art projects.
My first year here, I was asked to share the legend
on which a popular Italian tradition is based.
Two years ago and last year, I made Tiramisú.
It is always a very successful program, with a good number of participants.
And not only because my Tiramisú is really delicious!
Human beings are always curious about each others' traditions.
We like to explore the way other communities approach life,
the way they make sense of the world and relate to it.
Traditions, especially the oldest, most deeply rooted ones, tell our story.
The simplest, most fun way to access different communities
is to savor ethnically diverse cuisine
– which is nothing else but the traditional way of preparing food –
and then of course there is the music, the popular songs,
there are the classical stories, the myths and legends,
the communal narrative of the people of a specific place,
from the bedtime stories we tell our children,
to the Gettysburg address,
to Martin Luther King Jr.'s sermons.
Our traditions define us.
Individually and as a community.
They differentiate us from those who don't share them
and therefore don't belong to our tribe, our clan, our family...our people.
Traditions are very often rooted in practical matters,
such as circumcision, ritual cleansing before meals or prayer,
the placing of a cover over the chalice (so that the flies won't get in)
or the keeping of both hands on the table at meals
(which is what we still do in Italy according to a medieval tradition...
so that your host may be assured that you are not hiding a weapon under your napkin).
To be sure, a lot of “human traditions” are rooted in a great deal of good,
and have a good and solid purpose.
The practices observed by the Pharisees
that we read about in today’s Gospel were very good practices.
Ask any mom:
nothing wrong with washing up before approaching the dinner table
(especially at a time when silverware had yet to be invented
and people ate with their hands).
And nothing wrong wrong with washing your fruit and veggies,
and your pots and pans before using them.
The point is that - as opposed to our moms -
the Pharisees are not worried about dirt or pesticides,
they are worried that the grower might have planted the crop on the “wrong day”, the Sabbath,
or in a field with other plants that are not supposed to be mixed in the same plot;
or that in the process they might have been handled in some unclean way,
by some unworthy person.
That would have made THEM unclean.
You can never be too careful,
you don’t want to expose your self to something that might defile you,
since in the Pharisaic worldview, God doesn’t consort with those who are not pure.
And here lays the problem.
The purity laws lent themselves to a spiritual stratification
between the ritually "clean" who were close to God,
and the "unclean" who were shunned as unworthy sinners who were far from God.
Instead of expressing the holiness of our relationship with God,
and the care with which we want to “handle it”,
as was the original purpose of the law,
ritual purity becomes a means of excluding people considered
polluted, contaminated, and contagious.
Jesus is not reacting to the traditional practice per se,
but to the use the Pharisees are making of such practices.
They are using them as barriers.
They are using them to define who is in and who is out,
who is close to God and who is excluded from having a relationship with God.
Throughout the gospels the Pharisees criticize Jesus
because of his flagrant disregard for ritual purity.
Jesus, who was a Jew and “should have known better”,
touched a leper,
he touched a woman with a flow of blood, and handled a corpse.
Throughout the gospels, Jesus consorts with all sorts of unclean people,
sharing meals with prostitutes, tax collectors and other Roman collaborationists.
And he ignored sabbath laws!
But let’s be clear.
Just as he doesn’t condemn the observance of the Sabbath,
Jesus doesn’t condemn the practice of ritual cleansing.
Both are good and salutary traditions.
In fact, both practices are part of a healthy life as well as ways to honor God.
Jesus is pointing the finger at what happens when religious practices and doctrines
that are intended to bring life and health to the community
become stumbling blocks to reaching out to others with the love, justice, and mercy of God
in other words, when "human traditions" are substituted for "the commandment of God."
Jesus is making it clear that it is not what we are exposed to
that defile us. It is what is in our heart.
And no tradition is to be used to exclude another person,
and no law is to override compassion, forgiveness,
and a welcoming inclusion into the community.
Jesus is asking the Pharisees
what is at the root of the tradition they are so busy following.
He is concerned about their lack of compassion and charity,
more than their lack of cleanliness.
It is what’s in our hearts
that is a measure of our spiritual status.
Do you keep things pure for you and the elite members of your sect,
or do you work to keep things safe for those with no options?
Do you use all the available water for personal ritual cleansing,
or do you make sure the widow next door has enough to make soup for her children?
What makes this Gospel interaction relevant for us today
is that we have the same questions to ponder.
"Why do we do what we do?"
What informs and guides our daily choices?”
"What matters and what doesn't?"
We love our traditions because they make us feel comfortable,
because they help us define ourselves,
because they remind us of those who came before us.
Others may find our traditions a bit odd and slightly uncomfortable.
All our traditions have special meaning
and it is important for us to know and understand what that meaning is.
Not to do something because “we’ve always done it this way”,
but because it is relevant to us now.
Moreover, it is important that our traditions do not make us feel too good about ourselves.
That we don’t fall into the trap of believing, for even one second,
that our way is the only sanctified way to approach God.
And that we are special in the eyes of our creator because of
our ancestry, our background, our worship style
instead of because we are God’s children.
Created, redeemed, and sanctified through God’s love.
Called to respond to that in charity, mercy, and love for our fellow human beings.
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