Before I became a priest, I served as a Director of Volunteer services at a Habitat for Humanity affiliate. In my training as a volunteer manager, I learned that one of the most important things about recruiting someone to a volunteer position was clarity about what one was asking from a volunteer. If they were going to serve on a committee, how long was the commitment, how frequently would they meet, what work would be expected, and how was leadership structured were all details they should have. If they were going to work on site, what training was expected or would be provided, what age restrictions existed, what risks would they undertake, and how their day would be structured were important details before a workday. If they had a group event, they needed to know how many volunteers could be on site, what hours they needed to commit to, and what happened in inclement weather. By the end of my tenure, every volunteer position had a position description outlining expectations, qualifications, and rewards.
So, imagine my transition to the priesthood and realizing how poorly the Episcopal Church had defined membership. The very first time someone asked me (and every time since then), I dread the question, “So what do I need to do to become a member of this church?” The Episcopal Church does a notoriously poor job of defining membership. Our commitment to professing “All are welcome!” seems to translate into no defining characteristics of membership. “How do I join your church?” should be one of the easiest questions there is. And yet, when I talk to new members, the answer has to be two-fold: the technical answer (as long as you attend three services a year and are a financial contributor, you’re considered a member – the answer from the wider Episcopal Church which I loathe!), and the more practical answer we have crafted here at Hickory Neck: you fill out a form, you commit to supporting the church financially, you commit to feeding yourself (through study, prayer, regular worship), and you commit to feeding others (through giving your time to the church and to the wider community on behalf of the church).
Our gospel lesson today seems to be wading through a similar lack of clarity. The Pharisees and scribes are totally perplexed by how some of Jesus’ disciples are not washing their hands before eating – a totally valid concern in these days of post-pandemic! But handwashing was not just about hygiene. The ritual washing of hands was about identity, or “membership” as we understand membership today. The Jews of this time are in an “oppressed minority, living in an occupied land.” Their question is asked with the backdrop of colonialism, cultural and religious diversity, and competing claims on identity.[i] Their question is both simple and complex: why aren’t the disciples living like members of our community?
For many a reader of this text, all sorts of erroneous conclusions have been drawn – primarily the anti-Semitic understanding that the laws of the Jews are superseded by laws of Jesus.[ii] But that is not what is happening in this text. Jesus does not have any issue with ritual cleansing: he of all people understands the expectations of following God. But Jesus is saying something more nuanced about identity and membership. Jesus is saying that no matter how we traditionally mark ourselves as “other,” even if something is “the way we’ve always done it,” what is more important is how we live our faith. So, if we are doing all the right things: washing our hands the right way, bowing or genuflecting at all the right times, crossing ourselves when we’re supposed to, saying “Amen” during the sermon – or avoiding saying “Amen” during the sermon – none of that matters if our insides are defiled. As Jesus quotes from Isaiah, “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me…”[iii]
Today’s invitation is to ponder what membership in this body of faith means. Are we honoring Jesus with our lips, but our hearts are far from Jesus? Are we following the external “rules” but fostering evil intentions in our heart? Have we filled out the membership form but neglected our work of feeding ourselves and feeding others? Our work this week is making sure that when we go out into the world to love and serve the Lord – the dismissal that the we agree to every week – that we love and serve the Lord in ways that show people Christ through our words and actions; that as the political season ramps up, we ensure we are not defiling the dignity of any human being with our lips; and that when we talk about how much we love this church on the hill, we do so in a way that does not mask our individual struggles with avarice, deceit, slander, pride, and folly. Telling the world you are a proud member of Hickory Neck Episcopal Church is just fine – and something I hope you do on a regular basis. But our invitation from scripture today is to be clear with others that, as that old tune says, “He’s still working on me,” is also a part of membership in the body of Christ – perhaps the most appealing one that draws others into a desire for membership too. Amen.
[i] Debie Thomas, “True Religion,” August 22, 2021, as found at https://www.journeywithjesus.net/lectionary-essays/current-essay?id=2944 on August 30, 2024.
[ii] Idea suggested by Matt Skinner on the Sermon Brainwave podcast, “#799: 14th Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 22B) – Aug. 29, 2021,” August 22, 2021, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/799-14th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-22b-aug-29-2021 on August 28, 2024.
[iii] Mark 7.6b.