Tradition & The Love of God

The 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: Dt 4: 1-2, 6-8; Ps 15; Jas 1: 17-18, 21-22, 27; Mk 7: 1-8, 14-15, 21-23

I think it’s most appropriate that this Labor Day weekend when we have our big, annual chicken dinner, our gospel reading is about eating without washing your hands. Jesus gives us the OK today to pick up our chicken and eat it with our hands—and maybe even lick our fingers! Thank you, Lord!

Actually, today’s Scripture story about the Pharisees purifying their hands before a meal always brings a smile to my lips. Years ago, I was the co-owner of an advertising agency back east. My partner Greg and I would frequently go on the road to make new business presentations. One day we found ourselves on the Jersey shore in a small town called Ocean, which is near Asbury Park. Ocean, NJ, has a sizable Jewish population. After our meeting, Greg and I decided to grab a bite at one of the local kosher delis.

Now Greg is of Greek stock. In those days, he had a full head of dark hair—(sigh) so did I!—and dark eyes and a real Mediterranean complexion. He also had a full beard.

We walked into the deli and sat down. Greg wanted to clean up before lunch, so he asked the waiter, “Do you have a place I can wash my hands?”

The waiter snapped to and said, “Yes, yes, of course! Follow me.”

He led Greg into the kitchen. People started scurrying around, and the restaurant owner came over and barked orders at his kitchen staff who began to bring things over: a big bowl, a pitcher filled with water, some towels. They all stood around him expectantly, while Greg looked at them in disbelief. He just wanted a restroom. Finally the owner realized that Greg wasn’t doing anything, so he asked, “Is everything all right? Is there something else you need?”

“Well, yes,” said Greg. “Do you have a bar of soap?”

The poor restaurant man nearly had apoplexy. He thought that Greg was an Orthodox rabbi who wanted to do the purifications and blessings before the meal… not some crazy Gentile looking for the bathroom! True story!

For the Jews of Jesus’ day—and even today for observant Jews—hand washing wasn’t done for reasons of hygiene or to show good manners. It was a custom of religious significance, a rite of purification.

In the Jewish tradition, the rite of washing was performed to symbolize the moral purity a person should have before approaching God. We carry over the same idea into the mass when the priest purifies his hands during the offertory rite, just before consecrating the bread and wine. He quietly prays, “Lord, wash away my iniquities and cleanse me from my sins.” In other words, make me morally pure to turn this bread and wine into your Son’s body and blood, and then to offer this perfect sacrifice to you.

If you read the gospel carefully, you’ll see that Jesus doesn’t condemn the Pharisees for their purification rituals. He has no problem with their doing this. He’s just saddened that these religious leaders focus only on the external rite of hand-washing but not on the real meaning behind this custom. So they wind up preaching a very deficient view of God to the flock that depends on them.

In all charity, I think we can assume that the Pharisees loved God deeply. In their desire to prove it, they tried to follow every tiny bit of their religious law. But somewhere along the way, in their zeal, they lost sight of what really pleases God: not sacrifice, not traditions, not performing some action or saying some prayer—but basic human kindness. By becoming such zealots for their religious formalities, they wound up honoring those religious practices more than God himself! They forgot that loving God and loving neighbor are always to be our #1 priorities.

In the English language, we have a lovely little expression for customs and traditions that we cling to unquestioningly, like the Pharisees did. We call these “sacred cows.” For those Jewish leaders, it would have been unthinkable to ever eat without purifying your hands—not even at our parish chicken fry. That’s the same mindset that caused them to be fanatical about the Sabbath rest or fasting or tithing even on the tiniest pots of herbs. Yes, their cherished traditions may have been well-intentioned, but they prevented them from obeying the spirit of God.

Well, as the saying goes, “Sacred cows make the tastiest hamburgers.” Jesus tries to show them that human traditions are not all that important. Sure, they may help us grow closer to God—and if they do, fantastic! But if they just become empty rituals or burdensome, then we should grind them up and toss them out.

That’s one of the reasons why the Church takes such an easy-going attitude about a lot of popular devotions. Some folks can’t imagine not praying their rosary every day. But the Church says, if you want to pray the rosary or a chaplet, or if you want to visit a shrine or a cemetery—well, wonderful. But if those things don’t inspire you to grow closer to God or to love people more, than don’t bother. You can be a great Catholic with them or without them.

You might find it worthwhile to take some time this week to think about your own religious practices and attitudes. What inspires you to do the things you do? And the customs you follow—coming to mass, fasting before communion, giving church support every week, trying to live out the Church’s moral teachings, and so on—are you like the Pharisees and just following them because they are “laws” or do you see in them a way to love God and your neighbor more?

Because, as the Master would say, if you can do that, then you’re not far from the kingdom of heaven.