Wash Your Hands!

13th Sunday after Pentecost
Mark 7, selected verses

I once worked with a pastor who, every Sunday after church before coffee hour reminded me, “Wash your hands! wash your hands!" Think about it -- we clergy touch nearly everybody in church, and then we go eat cookeis. It makes sense to wash our hands inbetween those things, and we had these darling bathrooms in our offices so it was really easy. Every Sunday after church she would remind me, "Wash your hands!" A month or so after I married Kelly I showed up to work with a cold, much like I have today, and she said, "How did you get a cold?" "Well, Kelly is sick; I think I got it from him." "Wash your hands, wash your hands!" she said.

As a clergy person I take washing my hands seriously. I touch almost all of you on a Sunday morning, but I do wash my hands before cookies. If I have a cold I use something to clean them before I touch the bread for communion. At the hospital I wash my hands before and after every single visit. With soap and water. Everytime. I don't want to give you something, especially when you are sick in the hospital.

As we’ve talked about the possibility of avian flu and how we might prepare we’ve discussed germs, washing hands, touching in church. I’ve heard from some who don’t like to shake hands - maybe you always have a cold, have a suppressed immune system, or arthritis. Some folks don't like the shaking hand we do at the beginning of the service. But greeting each other is so important at the beginning of the service, I think; I think it is part of the character of this congregation. I want to keep that part of the service, but I wish we could be more aware of how we touch each other.

But what if Jesus came to church? Would he wash his hands before greeting all of you? Would he wash his hands before coming to communion? What does it mean that his disciples hands were “defiled?” Ick.

In Jesus culture, you’ve heard this, there was a clear line between clean/unclean. Not dirty or washed, but clean or unclean - a designation more than an actual state. People were unclean if they were menstruating, or for several weeks after giving birth, or for a certain period of time after touching a woman is that state, or someone who was dead, or someone who was sick. They had to be purified, and that required water and a certain ritual. The text today says that this tradition was not just washing hands but also ritually washing cups, pots, and kettles. Other texts tell us that even the couches had to be sprinkled with the special water. Then everything was clean. Then the pure could eat in purity.

Of course people who were sick couldn’t become pure, so they couldn’t eat or cook with any of these people. Women had to be separated quite a bit of the time, too. The poor - they certainly didn’t have access to all this cleanness. This was a strict way of separating people. It's called social distancing, and only the rich and the privileged can do it.

We know this doesn’t apply to us today - we don’t have rituals like this at all. We don’t have different standards of purity, clean or unclean, touchable or untouchable. We don’t have people who are separated from us because they can’t wash, or because they might have germs, or because they don’t have enough money to get clean. We don’t refuse people in church who smell, or haven’t had access to a shower. We wouldn't be worried if someone came to communion smelling bad and reached in and grabbed a big hunk of bread. We aren’t like this at all. What could Jesus be saying to us?

Tony Campolo tells a story -- we heard it when he came to town last January -- of a bum walking down the street in Philadelphia, with a McDonalds cup. He was dirty, he hadn't had a shower and laundry like we offer at CHUM, and he had bits of food in his long beard. He was carrying a coffee cup, and as Campolo walked toward him he said, "Here, take a sip of my coffee." Campolo cringed, but he took a small sip and said thank you, then, "Why did you want to share it?" "Because it's so good. It's particularly good, and when you have something particularly good you want to share it!" Campolo thought he was really being set up, and he almost reached for his wallet, but he said, "What do you want from me?" thinking, here goes five bucks. The man spread his arms out wide. "A hug!'

I don’t think Jesus would be opposed to washing your hands so you don’t get sick - he did heal people, after all; he seemed interested in health. I bet Jesus would wash his hands when given the opportunity. But Jesus is talking about the kind of behavior, the things of the heart, that make us not want to hug that man on the street. The rituals of clean and unclean worked to separate people, they built walls around people, they kept people from eating together, they put distance between people. That's what Jesus was against, anything that separates me, especially me as pure and clean and better, from you, especially if "you" are not clean and pure and better. wouldn’t keep people away from the table with ritual. Jesus wouldn’t let illness, dirtiness, or who you recently touched keep you away from his table. Jesus wouldn't let the mess of your life keep you away from his table. Jesus wouldn't let poverty or social standing keep you away from his table.

It isn’t what goes in to you that makes you pure in the eyes of God. It isn’t whether your food is organic, whether your water is bottled, whether you have antibiotic soap and antibacterially clean countertops that will win you acceptance in Jesus’ circle. It isn't how clean your hands are. It is what is in your heart. It is what you say. It is how you act. It is what comes out of you, and the way you connect with the people around you.

Go wash your hands if you want, its okay. But open your hearts. Open them wide. Open them to the people all around you. That's what you need to come to Jesus' table.