For you tithe mint, dill, and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.
Another rich set of readings. Love the Lord you God with all your heart, and soul and mind. Love your neighbor as yourself. The wedding banquet, questions about resurrection. And yet, today, I’m struck by this simple little sentence. You have tithed mint, dill and cumin. But neglected the weightier matters, justice, mercy and faith. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard this sentence in Sunday readings, and it’s a shame, really.
As a person who loves to cook and loves good flavors, this sentence evokes a lot of sensory memories. Mint in on the side of our neighbor’s garage that we’d pick and chew on. Mint tea. Dill and yogurt, dill in potato salad, dill fronds at the farmers market, cumin getting fragrant in the saute pan. These food and smell-related memories are important to me, and for me to tithe those items would be a big deal.
For me to tithe my food resources would be a sacrifice; I nearly hoard exotic spices, condiments, appliances. I would feel like I was offering a big thing. Perhaps the Pharisees did too.
But whatever we value, whatever we tithe, it pales in comparison to the things we should value and share – God’s love, mercy, justice, and faith. I can believe that the Pharisees thought they were sharing these gifts from God, and yet Jesus chastises them for believing their tithe of cumin mattered.
In today’s world, I imagine we all have things we value, and think we share with God as a sacrifice. Time, treasure. Jesus’ pointed question is whether we’re really attentive to what God cares about. This morning, I’m thinking about how to stay focused on the intangible values that God cares about, rather than the tangible items I tend to care about. And given all the talk about food, I’m thinking about breakfast.
No comments:
Post a Comment