top of page

Dirty Faith

Reverend Philip Stringer

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

LET US PRAY: Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Speak to our hearts with your living word and feed us, that we may live to serve you in faith and love. AMEN


Today — by way of a sermon — I would like to tell you the stories of three individuals who shed light on the message that comes to us from our gospel reading.


Mark recounts for us a story that contrasts the world that the religious leaders of the day would create — in contrast to the world envisioned by Jesus; A world of judgment and control on the one hand — and a world of compassion and love on the other. Underlying the comparison is a question: What does it mean to be faithful?


But first a little context. The Pharisees of Jesus' day had turned the practice of religious purity into an art. 613 laws had been developed in Judaism over time in an attempt to clarify their interpretation of the original statutes of God. The laws gave strict instructions on how much physical distance a person needed to maintain between themselves and someone “unholy," in order to remain undefiled. Lepers and adulterers and the like were to remain on the opposite side of the road from them.


Jesus certainly had a few words for those who harshly cut off those seen as “unclean.” For Jesus, the heart was what mattered. To be faithful, one must want what God wants. To be faithful, then, one must have a heart like God’s heart — a heart as Jesus shows us, that is filled with love.


A little over a week ago, on August 23, the Church commemorated St. Bartholomew. As I considered the text for today, and in particular, how Jesus’ ways so dramatically contrast with the ways of the Pharisees — I couldn’t help but think of him, because in many ways, Bartholomew had been like them.


We know him as “Nathanael,” and the first time we read about him in John we read that he was seated under a fig tree studying the scriptures. That’s not just a casual description of the scene. To a first-century audience beneath a fig tree was a well-known symbol of wisdom and scholarship.

Bartholomew was a Biblical scholar — seated alone, and one can deduce — contemplating the working out of his own salvation as a devoted and righteous man. When Philip tells him that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah, he balks and asks, “can anything good come out of Nazareth?”


It is arrogant and dismissive and Philip invites him to come and see. My sense is that Bartholomew took him up on the offer because he relished the opportunity to debate this back-water hick and expose him as a fraud.


As they approach Jesus, Bartholomew is caught off guard by a comment that Jesus makes about him — a compliment, actually — “behold, here comes an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”


Bartholomew challenges Jesus on this — who told you about me? — or I read — who warned you that I was coming to put you in your place?


Jesus answered, “I saw you seated under your fig tree before Philip came and found you.” Again, I’m reading into the text, but to me this implies that Jesus knows all about him — including his self-righteous notions of his own spiritual greatness.


Bartholomew is duly impressed — it spins his head around — and Jesus tells him, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet — you’re going to have your whole world turned upside down.”


And he did. As a disciple of Jesus, he learned that in spite of all of his studying, he had been a poor student of the scriptures — and especially of the ways of God.


When the love of Jesus encountered him — and entered Bartholomew’s heart, his life was changed forever.


Traditions handed down to us tell us that Bartholomew — along with Timothy and Philip — traveled to India and spent many years proclaiming the gospel and establishing the church there — the community they established is still known today as “Thomas Christians.”


He is also said to have traveled throughout the middle east and northern Africa proclaiming the good news. While preaching with Philip in what is now part of Turkey, they were arrested by the Roman proconsul and crucified. The proconsul’s wife begged for their lives, and so he let one of them go — Bartholomew. Philip was left on his cross, where he died.


Bartholomew fled to Armenia. After he arrived in Armenia -- (today, Ajerbaijan), it is written that he, “did many wonderful things there, including the healing of the lunatic daughter of the king, and the exposing of the emptiness of the king’s idol. The king and many others were baptized; but the priests remained hostile. The priests went to the king’s brother Astyages, who had Bartholomew arrested. He was beaten severely with clubs, and then crucified (some accounts say up-side-down). After he was hanged on his cross, it is said that they filleted him alive and left him there in agony to die.”


Bartholomew — Nathanael — was changed by Jesus’ love. He came to see that by Jesus’ rules — by the laws of love — being faithful means loving your neighbor. And in this world, that means that to be “pure,” you’ve got to get dirty. Dive into the suffering and brokenness of the world — just as Jesus did — and share the good news of his love.


That’s the message for you and me, too. We have all heard the stories from history of Christian traditions that labeled all sorts of activities as “unchristian” — from the first Christians in the Bible arguing about whether-or-not Gentiles had to become Jews first before becoming Christians, to more recent arguments about dancing and movies and such. Academically we think we’ve got the priorities pretty well sorted out ourselves — but I wonder sometimes what Christians in the future will think about that.


Some things are good and some things are bad; Some things are right and some things are wrong — but in the end, I believe that God cares less about any of those things than about how loving we are.


What does the love of Jesus compel you to do?


Early in the 20th century, a young pianist was creating a sensation in the great concert halls of the world. He was lauded as the next Chopin. When he played, the music had another dimension of depth and richness. Praise from fans and critics continued to grow until he unexpectedly announced that he had chosen to leave the United States to become a missionary in a remote region of New Guinea. A missionary? In New Guinea? Leaving behind a most promising career?


A newspaper account related the story of his choice to forsake a blossoming career to serve Christ in obscurity overseas and ended with the conclusion: "What a waste!"


But to whom was it a waste? To a newspaper critic? To the musical world, perhaps. But certainly, it was not a waste in the eyes of the talented Albert Schweitzer, whose love for Christ overshadowed anything worldly success and prestige could offer. To him, it was a reasonable response. He was not deceived by applause and certain fame.


For some, giving the gift of music is a holy calling that they are passionate about -- their heart compels them to give it. But for Albert Schweitzer -- though he had talent in music, it was not what his heart compelled him to give. When he listened to where the love of Christ was speaking to him, he chose the mission field, and because of that he became one of the most influential missionaries in history.


And here’s the 3rd story — one that hits a little closer to home. Dickson Hendley— or “Doc” Hendley — is a 45-year-old graduate of Ragsdale High School in Greensboro.


Doc was raised in what he describes as a “conservative” Christian family in Greensboro — the son of a preacher — went to church, helped feed the homeless, and he saw a lot of good in that, but was taken more with Harley Davidsons and whiskey and tattoo needles.


He ended up as a bartender in Raleigh, and a friend asked him, “is that all you want in life?” And it got him thinking.


His lifestyle — and the people he consorted with — probably ruffled a lot of feathers in “conservative” Christian circles — but Doc took what he knew and loved and decided to change the world. He called around to other bars in the area and began holding fundraisers that he called “Wine to Water” and began raising money in a tip jar. After raising several thousand dollars, when he set out to give the money for clean water projects, the charity representative invited him to go and see himself. “Where do you want to work?” he was asked.


“I don’t know — why don’t you send me to the worst place.” So, they did. It was 2004, and soon, Doc found himself on a plane to Darfur, Sudan — where he spent years going into what the UN called, “No Go Zones.” Places deemed too dangerous for aid workers — he went into those places because those people — soldiers and farmers — women and children and men — had no clean water — and they were dying.


Doc now lives in Boone — and today, Doc’s charity, “Wine to Water” has dug or repaired wells in more than 54 countries, giving over 2 million people access to clean water.


“I am proof,” he says, “that anyone — even a tattooed keg-tapper like me — can change the world.”


God has set us apart for a holy purpose -- but it has nothing to do with being separated from the world. Saint James writes, "be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves ... doers who act ... Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world."


A heart like God’s heart — a heart as Jesus shows us, that is filled with love.

AMEN

0 views

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page