“Cleansed by Christ”
Original sermon given September 1, 2024, written and delivered by Pastor Jeffrey Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“Cleansed by Christ"
Mark 7.1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Mark 7.1-8, 14-15, 21-23
In the name of the Living God and the Risen Christ. Amen.
If you’ve had the opportunity to travel to some of the ancient cities of the Greeks or Romans, you’ve no doubt seen one of their ancient theatres. It was a can’t miss for me in my travels—being a theatre major and lover of the theatre. There are many that survive: in modern Turkey, for example, and in the Mediterranean cities where the Roman Empire spread. You can still go to the ruins of the theatre in Ephesus—the largest the Greeks ever built—and stand right where the book of Acts (Acts 19) tells us St. Paul’s companions stood, dragged before a riotous crowd because they preached against idolatry. Even the Holy Land has ancient theatres. Herod the Great built one at Caesarea Philippi – a city named in honor of Ceasar. Constructed at about the time of Christ, thousands of plays, sporting events, and gladiatorial combats were seen there for the next five hundred years.
And no doubt you’ve been to a museum and seen the ancient theatre masks themselves—so many survive—these large, colorful, and often exaggerated depictions of stock characters from their plays. They were constructed to exaggerate visually the meaning and expressions of the characters and to aid with projection, as many were built with megaphones to help the sound travel.
But I would guess, however, that almost no one here this morning knows what these ancient actors traversing these ancient stages wearing these ancient masks were called. They were called “ὑποκριτής (hypokritēs)” — at least that’s one name for them. It’s where we get our word, “hypocrite” from: play actor, pretender, mask wearer, someone presenting one thing dramatically on the outside, but being something completely different on the inside.
Of course, originally, the word wasn’t particularly negative, as it is now, but its origins certainly add insight to our Lord’s convicting words against religious hypocrisy, religious pretenders, and sacred play actors.
Here in Mark 7 an investigation unit of religious experts have traveled all the way from Jerusalem to Galilee see firsthand this Jesus at work. They’re not here to be healed from the Lord of Creation, nor to be taught by he who is eternal Truth with a capital T, nor to be fed by the bread of life. Rather, they come to catch him up; spy him out; make him stumble; and ultimately, to lay him out on a cross and raised up as a spectacle for derision.
Their diabolical strategy for this particular day concerns ceremonial washing. St. Mark, probably writing from Rome, adds a bit of commentary to help his gentile hearers understand. Let me help him, help you out today.
Jesus’ Jewish people practiced elaborate ceremonial washing at this time—at least the most pious and observant certainly did. The idea behind this seems good enough. It was an attempt to set apart as holy, or ritually clean, some of the most ordinary activities—like eating and drinking. It was a reminder that they were “set apart” from this world—marked as holy—and it had the additional salutatory effect of good hygiene! Things were to be both ritually and physically clean.
But this practice quickly devolved into religious hypocrisy, and religious hypocrisy is always the worst kind, isn’t it? That’s what the world hates most about Christianity—it’s full of hypocrites, right? And I suppose in your most honest moments, it’s what you hate most about your own walk with Christ. The mask you present on the outside often doesn’t match what’s going on inside: doubts, fears, secret sins, resentment, bitterness, lust, envy, pride. Jesus lists a bunch of them for us—the things that really make us “unclean”.
Our Lord exposes layers of religious hypocrisy in his teaching is the gospels. It would be so easy for us to take theological potshots at the religious “play actors” of Jesus’ day, thousands of years and thousands of miles away from us. Or we could pick out the worst examples in our own world around us—of which there are plenty. But that would be the easy sermon. If God’s word is true, then it is true for all time and for all people. And if it is sharper than a two-edged sword, it is so for us today, and our masks.
God’s word reveals five layers, or aspects of our “play acting”, our outward “religious masks”. Like the masks of the ancient players after a play, let’s take them off for a minute this morning and see what’s truly there.
1) The hypocrisy of “lip service” verses “life service”. When you “talk the talk but don’t walk the walk”, as the saying goes. Jesus quotes the prophet Isaiah this morning, when he says, “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” (Isaiah 29.13). God can raise up dead stones to sing empty praises. What he wants is worshippers who worship with sincerity and truth.
2) The hypocrisy of placing human-made laws over God’s divine law. The German Reformer, Martin Luther (personal friend of mine, you should meet him sometime, I’d be happy to introduce him to you), called out the monastic and clerical abuses of his day by saying, in effect: if we spent as much time, energy, and effort worrying, arguing, and debating about the Ten Commandments, rather than the multitudinous man-made rules of religion, we’d be much better Christians. Jesus summarized all the law with the one word “love”—love God above all things and love your neighbor as yourself. That’s enough to do, isn’t it?
3) The hypocrisy of holding fast to the letter of the law, while ignoring the spirit of the law. Remember in Mark chapter 3, when Jesus dared to heal a man with a shriveled hand on the sabbath? They tried to catch him out because, well, you know, technically, that’s “work” and so you shouldn’t be doing it. But all the while they had no compassion for the man who needed healing, and no acknowledgment of the Lord who made the sabbath in the first place.
4) The hypocrisy of having a disposition of judgement towards others, rather than examining first your own sins and shortcomings. Jesus’ words in the sermon on the mount come to mind, don’t they? Picking out the little bit of sawdust in your brother or sister’s eye, all the while having a huge plank in your own eye (Matt. 7.4). Jesus uses the word “hypokritēs” here… so much outward show but so little inner piety.
5) Finally, but most importantly, the height of religious hypocrisy is to refuse to recognize the One true law giver, standing right before you. It is to deny Christ’s work, even when it’s happening in unexpected ways, and unexpected places, and in expected people. Here’s where the Scribes and Pharisees got it tragically wrong. God was at work in the person and work of Jesus, Messiah, and they were too busy worrying about their own rules to stop and be moved, and to be caught up into his work.
My brothers and sisters, we all wear masks. Some more than others. Some more colorful than others. Some concealing more than others. Some with greater discrepancy between what’s on the outside verse the inside. Yes, we’re all hypocrites, and if you claim to be a Christian and you’re still alive in your body, you are indeed particularly hypocritical—a play actor, pretender who might look tidy on the outside but on the inside is as unclean as a pharisee.
But I want you to know that there’s One who knows you as you truly are. There’s nothing hidden from his sight. His word tears all the masks away and exposes each of us. Yet this One still loves you. The only one who truly knows you, truly loves you, and has truly forgiven you. The only one who truly sees through all the exhausting masks we put on out there, calls us back to himself in a grace that knows all, and forgives all.
He gave his perfect life for my life and yours. On Calvary’s cross he died for all our sins—even the ones that disturb us most, the ones of our religious hypocrisy, the ones deeply hidden which no one else sees. His blood is sufficient payment for every aspect of our sin, and his perfect life—the life of the only truly faithful person who ever lived—this life is given as a covering, a masking over sin for all.
The worst of this world’s pretenders would do their worst to the Lord Jesus—precisely because he exposed and exposes all hypocrisy. But his resurrection on the third day means that we are now right before God, even when we’re at our worst. The divine drama of Christ’s intervention into our “hour upon the stage”[1], brought about a final victory over the tragedy of sin and death.
There’s great freedom in taking off the mask—confessing our sins together here, and knowing his grace is sufficient.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.
[1] Shakespeare’s MacBeth, Act V, scene 5.In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.