Commentary on Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

This isn’t quite what we want to hear at the church council meeting or leadership retreat.

But perhaps the weeks after Pentecost, when the lights-camera-action of high holy seasons are dimmed, is an appropriate time to call us to reflection and introspection.  

Both Mark 6 and 8 record miracle feedings, at least 5,000 satisfied appetites, followed by another 4,000. Between these two narratives, Mark records another eating dilemma, this time not about the availability of food, but about strict group boundaries related to eating. At first glance the passage immediately raises questions about exclusivity: who may eat and who may not eat; who is rightly prepared for the meal and who is not. The implicit question is not how to feed those who are gathered, but rather, why are the disciples not appropriately prepared to eat? More specifically, why has Jesus not required adherence to the “traditions of the elders”? 

An ongoing trope for those who sought to undermine Jesus was to situate him as a lawbreaker. Not only does Jesus allow the disciples to eat without the ceremonial washing of hands, but he also touches those who are sick, interacts with a woman with a hemorrhage, and drives out unclean spirits. He challenges readers to rethink the contexts of laws and traditions, with people in mind. Real people. 

In Mark’s telling, those who are presumed to be among the most religious attend to their customs and traditions with little regard for those who are hungry. Notice, Jesus does not condemn the Jewish washing practice, one of many rituals common to their faith identity. Jewish food practices helped build community and reminded Jewish people of their commitment to live according to God’s values. The issue is not with traditions—it is the privileging of human traditions over the commands of God. 

The missing section of the lectionary reading is Jesus’ commentary on selective following of the oral traditions and circumventing them when it is convenient. In other words, Jesus critiques the leaders for inconsistency in their religious practices, while they hold others to the letter of the law.

Faith communities are grounded in doctrines and creeds and interpretations and traditions. There are traditions for when to stand and when to sit in worship. There are traditions for what to wear: for some the covering of one’s head, and for others the donning of certain garments. In African American churches there are traditional special services, such as Church Anniversary or Women’s Day. While these services have deep history in community-building and fundraising, they may also endure as traditions and marks of African American church life. 

When traditions become theological dictates rather than theology shaping and reshaping our traditions, we are at risk of the errancy of the religious leaders. During this season we might reflect on our church practices and long-held traditions. Have we kept kind regard for others at the center of the traditions to which we are beholden? Have we subjected others to traditions or customs without regard for their needs?  

In the other feeding narratives, the hungry crowds are fed; in this one, the hungry disciples are critiqued. We live in a society that criminalizes the poor, who are often the same persons who lack sufficient food. One of the outcomes of the Covid-19 pandemic was the demand for more food banks and like services—meaning, people are hungry. Not only people who are poor, but people from all stations of life are experiencing the need for help with sustenance. No, every church need not have a food bank. But to neglect the moral good of helping those in need, while honoring religious practices (regardless of faith tradition), is what one writer calls social hypocrisy.

Jesus wades through the waters of traditionalism to get to his more significant point. It is not the external that matters—nothing on the outside defiles. The behaviors and actions that flow from within are what matter. This is a good time for readers to say “ouch” if we are hesitant to say “amen.”  

Jesus’ words disrupt the clean/unclean, pure/impure, defiled/undefiled dichotomies that characterized Jewish-Gentile interactions during this time. Jesus calls the leaders and the crowd to consider the internal communing of the heart and the actions and behaviors that flow from an evil heart.

It is a sobering call to contemplation. Sadly, the news is filled with church leaders who are guilty of sexual crimes, fiscal irresponsibility, theological abuse, and ministerial negligence—yet they purport to uphold the moral, ethical, and ritualistic traditions of their faith. Or they partially comply with the traditions while using the traditions as weapons against others. Without proper safeguards and intentional boundaries, leaders may be particularly susceptible to misdeeds that go unnoticed for a time. We empower leaders and we trust them. Jesus calls church leaders, then the crowd, and us, to search ourselves.

A sermon on this text might fittingly draw listeners to reflection and introspection, repentance and forgiveness, rather than celebration. The good news of the text is that our loving God calls us to examine ourselves, revealing our hidden shortcomings, and drawing us into closer relationship with Godself and humankind.

References

Allen, Ronald J., Dale P. Andrews, and Dawn Ottoni Wilhelm, eds. Preaching God’s Transforming Justice: A Lectionary Commentary, Year B. 1st ed. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011.

Myers, Ched. Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus. 20th Anniversary Ed. Biblical Studies. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2008.