Mark 7:1-23

A couple of weeks ago I made a trip to the podiatrist. It was a pretty typical visit: conversation with the nurse, x-rays, and an examination from the doctor. I’d joked with the nurse about walking down the hall in my bare feet—was it ok to go without shoes? I think it’s a good hygiene day, I said.

That evening, I took off my sandals and looked at the bottom of my feet. They were filthy! How did that happen? I wondered. Was I walking outside without my shoes on? Are my floors that dirty? Then I remembered: Messy Games. The day before I had been barefoot, running around in the mud with the HSM. I had taken two showers, but the dirt was ground in, and I had to scrub to get my feet clean. Then I was momentarily mortified: the podiatrist had seen my filthy feet!

I wonder if the people hearing Jesus’ comments in our Gospel lesson today felt like their spiritual ‘filthy feet’ were showing. Let me explain.

Jesus attracted the attention of many people in his day. In today’s story it’s the religious scholars, the scribes, and the Pharisees, who were part of a popular piety movement within Judaism. Both groups were basically good, religious people. They were the ones who came to worship every Friday, made sure their kids went to religious instruction, and showed up on all the religious holidays. As such, they had a lot of traditions they followed. Jesus, on the other hand, seemed rather lackadaisical in his observance: he did work on the Sabbath! He hung out with unsavory people. And he didn’t do the ceremonial washing of hands before eating.

So the scribes and Pharisees asked Jesus, “Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?” They were basically calling Jesus a lapsed Jew.

But Jesus points out that it is they who do not follow the commandments of God. The intervening verses that we skip in chapter 7 talk about a religious practice that excused people from taking care of their parents. Instead of using money to support parents when they were in need, that money was said to be “dedicated to God.” Jesus, the scribes, and the Pharisees all knew that the commandment says, “Honor your father and mother,” but Jesus called a spade a spade, saying, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” Jesus made it clear that he knew what they practiced wasn’t piety; it was greed. It was like my feet, looking freshly washed from above, but filthy dirty on the underside.

The scribes and Pharisees were concerned about religious practice; they felt outward action—what you did—made you holy. A number of their practices had to do with what you ate and how you ate it. Jesus therefore used eating as a metaphor: “There is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile…For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come.” Jesus is distinguishing between what is on the outside and what is on the inside. According to Jesus, the measure of faithfulness isn’t an outward practice; holiness is rather about what’s on the inside of a person—it’s about the intentions of the heart.

I think that if most any of us took the time to contemplate the content of our hearts, we’d likely see some of Jesus’ list lurking in there. What evil intent do you struggle with? Where are the places where you are stuck, unable to make a new choice? It’s easy to want to cover up our shortcomings and pretend they’re not there. It’s natural to want to clean up for public viewing. We don’t want to show off the underside of our feet. And so we often operate a whole lot like the scribes and Pharisees, concentrating on what can be seen from the outside, instead of examining what is on the inside, the intentions of our hearts.

But there are places where people make a practice of examining their hearts and getting honest about what’s on the inside. I have been an admirer of 12-step recovery programs for many years. Step four of the twelve steps is particularly relevant: it focuses on making “a fearless moral inventory”—taking a long hard look at one’s character flaws and taking responsibility for past actions.

That regular practice of noting what’s on the inside takes courage. Take Matt, for instance. Matt regularly came to the AA meeting in the church basement where I served. We chatted before we each went into our respective Monday evening meetings. One night when we discovered a family of skunks living in the window well, it was Matt who volunteered to bring a homemade ramp and telescopic pole and nudged them out.

But before the property committee could cover the window well, the skunks were back. It seemed like a big favor to ask, but I didn’t have another choice: I called Matt and asked him to get the skunks out again.

I’ll never forget what he said: “You know, I am a lot like that skunk. I have fallen into so many holes in my life. But God reached into the pit and my own stink and dragged me out. I am happy to help these little guys.”

It can be a scary process to take an honest look at what’s inside, to make that fearless moral inventory, and know that sometimes we come up wanting. But what gives us the courage to do it is that, like Matt, God has already reached down into the pit to be with us. That’s what Jesus was about—joining us in this human enterprise which is at times triumphant and other times a mess. God is like the podiatrist who said nothing about my dirty feet and instead simply went about treating my plantar fasciitis because his job is not judgment but healing.

Each week we have an opportunity for an honest look at what’s inside: the confession that begins our worship every week. It is time for us to examine our consciences and bring before the Lord the things we aren’t proud of, the things we need help with, the things we can’t seem to change. We aren’t alone in this; everyone here is in the same boat. There is even individual confession and absolution in the Lutheran church If you want additional support.

In the end, it isn’t about cleaning up our mess—it’s allowing God’s love to shine a light on our full selves, the outward and the inward. It’s safe in Jesus’ presence to look at it all and allow his love and example to encourage our growth into the person God already sees.

And so I am here to tell you the truth: you do not need to be afraid. You do not need to cover or clean anything up. You can bring your whole self to God. God’s love is wide enough to free us and heal us and send us back into the world to share that freedom and healing with others.