Mark 2:23-3:6
How do you deal with people when their obsessive focus on something good leads them to use that good thing in a way that is manipulative or domineering? How do you get through to people whose attention to the details of something good and beautiful leads them to treat people in a way that is harsh or even cruel?
There was a letter that appeared in Amy Dickinson’s advice column the other day that really brought that question home to me. The letter writer was concerned because one particular house in their neighborhood had become an eyesore because of deferred maintenance.
“Dear Amy,” they wrote. “I live in an affluent neighborhood of expensive although older homes. The vast majority of homes are well maintained and manicured. Many have had major remodels.
However, there are a couple of homes that are in serious need of a facelift! One home in particular is a complete eyesore.
Although it is worth more than a couple million dollars, the lawn is dead, paint doesn’t match and/or is faded in places, wood facia is rotting, along with other significant cosmetic problems. There do not seem to be any code violations. I am not aware of the owners’ financial situation, but they’ve been there long enough that there should be significant equity to refinance and get money for repairs — or sell and move to a less expensive home. Other neighbors have left notes, to no avail. Any suggestions on how to get this family to fix up their house, or even move?”
The letter was signed, “Frustrated Neighbor,” and Amy’s response to this Frustrated Neighbor was pure gold:
“Dear Frustrated,” she wrote. “It is so generous of you to provide such a detailed list of repairs to be made to this property! You’ve obviously inspected the house quite closely.
“What a neighborhood! People leaving notes and developing repair punch lists and investment advice — and not one finding out who these neighbors are and asking if they need a hand.
“I suggest you approach this by putting human values ahead of property values. Changing your orientation and approach should improve the neighborhood.”
Putting human values ahead of property values. Or legal values. Or economic values. That’s exactly what Jesus was doing when he began his nonviolent campaign to confront the traditions and institutions and the political and religious authorities and laws that were squeezing the life out of the people of Galilee.
In today’s Gospel reading from Mark, we see two episodes where Jesus is confronted by self-appointed guardians of Sabbath piety, men—and they were all men—whose strict interpretation of Sabbath codes was impairing the quality of life for the very people whose quality of life they were supposed to be safeguarding. Their pious concern for every jot and tittle of the very good gift of God’s law in Torah had led them to treat God’s people with harsh inflexibility.
The first confrontation comes when Jesus and his disciples “made their way” through the grain fields on the Sabbath. As they forged a pathway through the field, the disciples were plucking and eating heads of grain. This didn’t sit well with the Pharisees who were observing them. “Look,” they said, “why are your disciples doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath.”
The Law of Moses permitted poor people in Israel, or travelers, or aliens to glean enough grain for a meal from the crops in a landowner’s fields. Deuteronomy and Leviticus both make it clear that you were allowed to pluck grain by hand in a neighbor’s field or pick some grapes from your neighbor’s vines as long as you didn’t use a tool to cut the stalks or collect your gleanings in a basket. The open question, though, was can you do this on the Sabbath?
The Torah did not specifically say one way or the other, so the Pharisees, who were always inclined to err on the side of strictness, had concluded that, while it might be okay to do a little personal harvesting on the other six days of the week, it was definitely not okay on the Sabbath. This, of course, could leave poor people in a real bind. If you can’t use a basket to collect enough for tomorrow and you can’t come back to the field on the Sabbath, you’re pretty much stuck with going hungry on the day of rest.
Jesus, of course, took the opposite view. Hunger doesn’t know or care what day it is. Hunger doesn’t know or care about Sabbath laws. Human values override religious legal values.
Jesus tried to get the Pharisees to discuss this issue by referring to an incident from the life of King David.[1] “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food,” he asked them, “how he entered the house of God when Abiathar was high priest and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions?” When the Pharisees responded with stony silence he added, “The Sabbath was made for humankind and not humankind for the Sabbath.” The point Jesus was trying to make is that some human needs take precedence over other human needs. The need for food takes priority over the need for rest or Sabbath observance.
Since Mark’s account immediately moves to the next confrontation, we are left to assume that the Pharisees simply were not open to debating this issue with Jesus.
“Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They were watching him to see whether he would cure him on the Sabbath, so that they might accuse him.”
The way Mark’s gospel describes it, this looks like a setup for entrapment, but Jesus sees right through the Pharisees’ scheme and decides to put them on the spot. “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath?” he asks them. “To save a life or to kill?” Jesus turns the issue into a clear binary decision. The implication in his question is that there really is no moral middle ground between compassion and legalism. If you fail to do good when you have the chance then you are doing harm. If you do not act to save a life in peril when you have the chance, then you are complicit in the killing.
The Pharisees responded to Jesus once again with silence. Jesus, we are told, “looked around at them with anger. He was grieved at their hardness of heart.”
With all that tension simmering in the air, Jesus healed the man’s withered hand. And the Pharisees? “The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.”
The Pharisees in these incidents are like a homeowners association who are so concerned about maintaining the curb appeal of the houses in their neighborhood that they completely ignore the lives of the people who live in those houses. When they see a house that is not in compliance with their standards, rather than seeking to understand the situation or even provide assistance, they add to the burdens and difficulties of their neighbors with their notices of noncompliance and their threats of fees and legal action.
Standards are good. Laws are necessary. But people are more important.
In chapter 12 of Mark’s gospel a scribe asks Jesus, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied by combining a quote from Deuteronomy with a quote from Leviticus. “The first is,” he said, “is ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”
In reflecting on this Greatest Commandment, Father Richard Rohr said, “Imagine how different the world would be if we just obeyed that one commandment—to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. It would be the most mighty political, social upheaval imaginable. The world would be radically different if human beings really treated other people as they would like to be treated. We can take this as a simple rule of thumb: What would I want from that person right now? What would be helpful for me to receive? Well, there’s our commandment. There’s our obligation to do to others!
“It’s so simple that we can see why we put all our attention on the Ten Commandments, or the hundreds of other regulations culture and religion place on us. It’s much easier to worry about things that keep us ‘pure,’ so to speak, but are of little consequence.
“After all is said and done, it comes down to loving God and loving our neighbor—and that implies loving ourselves. If I said this without quoting Jesus, I could be accused of oversimplifying or ignoring some of the important commandments, but thank God Jesus said it first. He taught that it’s all about love, and in the end, that’s all we’re all going to be judged for. Did we love? Did we love life? Did we love ourselves? Did we love God and did we love our neighbor? Concentrating on that takes just about our whole lifetime and we won’t have much time left over to worry about what other people are doing or not doing. Our job is to love God, love ourselves, and love our neighbor.”[2]
The Pharisees love God and they love Torah, God’s law—that’s a good thing—and in their own way they love their neighbor because they believe that their neighbor will benefit if everybody rigorously obeys Torah.
Jesus loves God and also loves Torah, but Jesus interprets the law differently because he understands that, to paraphrase what he said about the Sabbath, the law was intended to serve people; people don’t exist to serve the law.
The way Jesus interprets Torah is consistent with the way the prophets understood the law. The prophet Micah summed it up very succinctly when he wrote, “God has told you, O Mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
To love kindness. The Hebrew word that Micah uses here is chesed. It means kindness. Or steadfast lovingkindness. Or, sometimes, mercy.
In rabbinic tradition, the world is said to stand on three things: Torah, divine service, and chesed—acts of kindness. Chesed, kindness, is considered “boundless” because a person can never do too much of it. It is behavior that goes above and beyond the letter of the law, a one-sided giving that brings goodness to the neighbor.
Chesed, kindness, strengthens mutual relationships. It reinforces the bonds of our implied covenant with each other, our social contract. Chesed, kindness, is one of the attributes of God. At the end of Psalm 23 the psalmist is speaking of God’s steadfast lovingkindness when he says “Surely goodness and chesed, kindness, will pursue me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Kindness acknowledges that we are of the same kind. We have the same needs. We have the same fears. We face the same pitfalls. We have the same hopes. We are of a kind. Kindness acknowledges that what is good for you is good for me, or to put it another way, I will be kind to you and trust that you will be kind to me because we are all in this together.
What kind of world might we see if we made chesed, kindness, the central pillar our politics our economics and our laws? That’s the question Jesus wants us to consider as he moves through our world announcing that the Kingdom of God, the Commonwealth of God’s justice and kindness, is within reach. It can be our reality on earth as it is in heaven.
Standards are good. Laws are necessary. But people are more important.
[1] 1 Samuel 21
[2] Adapted from Richard Rohr,“613 Commandments Reduced to Two,” homily, November 3, 2012.