Jesus has again had a scuffle with the Pharisees. They’ve seen his disciples eat with unclean hands, and in their tradition, they need to wash everything before eating – their food, their hands, the pots. The Pharisees charge Jesus and the disciples of not living according to the traditions of their elders. Jesus deftly responds that they have a fine way of ‘rejecting the commandment of God, in order to keep your tradition’. Ouch. Obviously, any rule or standard, or tradition we hold must be measured against God’s commandment. I’d go further and suggest it’s Jesus’ simple clarification of the law. Love God. Love your neighbor.
Jesus goes on to explain to the disciples that it isn’t what is put in the mouth that defiles, but rather comes out of the mouth. He’s using the Pharisee’s concern with food as an illustration for a bigger point. He says that it’s the evil intentions of the heart - fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly – when these come out of the body – that’s what defiles. We cannot be defiled what comes from outside, whether it’s unclean food, or the evil intentions of others.
This reminds me of interactions with my sick loved one, and what Jesus says is so hard in that context. One day, they’ll be meaner than a snake. And yet, it’s the illness, not them. But it’s hard not to let that ruffle me. A few days ago, I was feeling beaten down, as it seemed the household had become downright hostile, with snarling and nasty comments at every turn. And in my head, I know it’s the illness, not me.
If I could just let that stuff go, and not let it ruffle or get to me, I’d be so much better off. Instead, frequently I give way to my own evil intentions of the heart, and what comes out of my mouth is my defiling. There is absolutely no reason for me to let the illness get to me, to pierce my soul. This is especially true because my reactions when that happens are less than I intend. It doesn’t look like Love God. Love your Neighbor. Things outside, things entering my body cannot, or should not, defile.
I know it’s the illness, because just one day after our snarly evening, I again spent 90 minutes sitting with them, lovingly working through their hair. Washing the hair took over 10 minutes – a lot of hair and a lot of time since the last good cleaning. Combing took another 10. And finally oiling and braiding. It was holy, and peaceful time. They asked for no television, as they said it’s already too noisy. Perhaps not wanting to ruin the beautiful silence with the constant stream of disruption in their head, or not wanting to intentionally or unintentionally provoke me into something stupid, they asked me to stop talking and just sit with them. So we sat and I braided.
Clearly, this was not the same sentiment as the night before, when I could do no right. No acknowledgement of what had just happened. And maybe no need to.
This morning, I’m thinking about all the times and ways that I let things that come in to my body defile me, because I let them provoke evil intentions from within. And while I cannot control what comes my way, I absolutely can control my response – what comes out of my mouth. Regardless of the situation, I need to check what comes out. And perhaps more important, not let things come in or provoke.
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