Sermons

“Hypocrisy, Humility & Everything in Between”

Psalm 127:1-2; Mark 12:38-44 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – November 11, 2018

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that our hearts might humbly seek you and the church be truly yours.  In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

I suppose it’s possible that Mark 12:38 is a dangerous passage for me to preach on, since I’m the only one around here wearing a long robe.  Would it help if I told you I mostly wear it for the pockets?  Ladies church clothes, alas, are simply not reliable in that regard.  There are, of course, all sorts of additional theological and sociological reasons why I wear a robe, but pockets are definitely up there on the list.  Does this distinguish me from the scribes Jesus is warning you about?  I would like to think so, but I expect the distance is not as wide as I’d hope.

I want to talk about hypocrisy today, which is a risky endeavor.  But it’s something we need to do if we want to understand where God is leading the church.  In case you haven’t heard, there are all sorts of people out there who are convinced that churches are full of hypocrites.  They’re right, of course, because as I keep reminding you, churches are full of humans.  And as humans, we all have our moments of “do as I say, not as I do.”  And yet, we must help people to see beyond this assumption of hypocrisy, so they can benefit from the good stuff that lies on the other side.  Part of the good news of the gospel is that God can use even hypocrites as vessels of grace and blessing.

Our scripture lessons today present three distinct but related stories.  The two passages from Mark, while coming in rapid succession, are not necessarily meant to comment on one another.  And yet, there is such a marked contrast that we can see why they might be offered as a pair.  Together, they prod us to consider our relationship to God, our motivations for participating in a faith community, our needs and desires and what they push us to do.  Combined with the verses from Psalm 127, they invite us to consider how we as a congregation move toward building up our church family.

So let’s go back to those long-robed scribes and think a little more about hypocrisy.  What is it about churches that makes us such a rich target for charges of hypocrisy?  The first thing we must note here is that part of the issue is that we’ve set up a very high standard.  We claim to follow a Savior who commanded us to love our enemies and serve the least of these and lay down our lives for our friends.  If Jesus had just said, “Try to be nice most of the time to the people you actually like,” we wouldn’t have so much trouble living up to the gospel.  But that’s not what he said.  The ethical requirements of the gospel are pretty nearly impossible to meet consistently.  As followers of Jesus, we know this and give thanks for the grace of God that fills in the gaps.  But that part is a little mysterious to people outside the church and gets mis-interpreted as an easy out.  What makes it worse is that we often behave as though we don’t really comprehend God’s grace either.  We know the standards of the gospel are high, and we find it hard to feel forgiven when we fail to meet them.  So instead of admitting our mistakes and confessing our sins, and thus accessing the mercy of God, we pretend that what we did wasn’t so bad, or try to cover it up, or find rationalizations for why it was necessary.  So perhaps our first step in dismantling the barrier of the church’s supposed hypocrisy is to start living as though we really believe in the grace of God.  And that doesn’t mean wildly acting as though we can do whatever we want because God will forgive us; it means owning up to it whenever we do things that aren’t in line with the gospel’s standards of justice and compassion.

Flowing from a faithful understanding of grace is another helpful practice for dismantling the barrier of hypocrisy.  One of the clearest charges against the church historically is that we’ve been more concerned with diagnosing others’ sins than we have been with confessing our own.  When the church, as an institution, is known for its tendency to categorize people as “in” or “out”, it’s not surprising we’re seen as hypocrites.  But when we truly understand grace and its relationship to the demands of the gospel, we don’t have time to worry about other people’s sins because our own keep us busy enough.  This is not to say we cannot apply the gospel to the systemic injustices of our society, in which we are all culpable.  But it does take the focus off telling other people they need to repent.  “Come to church so you can stop being such a horrible person” has never been a particularly attractive invitation.  “You’re welcome in this community that has helped me become a better person” is much more likely to pique someone’s interest.

If we’re trying to minimize hypocrisy, perhaps it would help to think about what the opposite of hypocrisy is.  Many things may come to mind: authenticity, meekness, honesty, graciousness.  But the one suggested by the placement of these two brief passages in Mark suggests that one important opposite of hypocrisy is humility.  Jesus is watching all sorts of displays of generosity and largesse.  But who does he commend?  The woman who gives two pennies.  She braves the sneers of those around who may judge her offering unworthy.  She has to know some will laugh, if quietly.  She has no reason to think her offering will help much in the upkeep of the temple.  But none of that deters her.

There is another reason that the woman might not have shared those two pennies.  Jesus seems to think they are the end of her resources, “all she had to live on.”  If that was the case, what is going on in her heart that she decides to give them away?  Here is where we learn that both humility and generosity are rooted in trust in God.  We tend to think of trust as something that exists internally, but this story shows us how there are all sorts of external signs of the depth of our trust in God.  The very way we live our life reflects how much we trust God.  Those long-robed scribes, Jesus implies, have put their trust in the wrong things: human acclaim, status, trappings of the office.  Their trust, like their lifestyles, is shallow.  But the two-penny widow has a trust that is priceless, one that is not grounded in an assumption she has earned her fate, but in her knowledge of God’s ultimate love and care for her.  This contrast is highlighted by the lesson from our psalm as well.

“Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain” it says.  Why do we insist on “eating the bread of anxious toil”?  I fear it is often because we assume, along with those scribes, that it is our own efforts that will prove our worth.  Unlike the two-penny widow, we don’t trust that God’s love has guaranteed our inherent worth.  We don’t trust that God will build the house the way we’re sure it needs to be built.  So we’ll just get busy doing it ourselves.

If we applied ourselves, surely we could make people understand that we are not hypocrites.  We just need to document and photograph and promote all the good things we’re doing and make sure people see them.  We just need to try all the different possible ways of communicating so everyone can clearly see what we’ve got going on here.  Right?  #breadofanxioustoil  And we wonder why we’re worn out, with so little to show for our efforts.

What would it look like to trust in God to build the house of Vista La Mesa Christian Church?  What would it look like to trust in that with a two-penny widow level of trust?  The truth is that this church is full of humans, which means it’s populated by hypocrites, or at least people who occasionally dabble in hypocrisy.  Our reputation may not be fair, but it’s there.  And it’s only by the grace of God that we will be able to dismantle it.  Only by seeking to follow Jesus can we effectively help God build up a church.  When we pray “not my will but thine be done,” when we declare that Jesus is Lord, that is when the shackles of hypocrisy fall off and release us into a new way of being that shines like a light in the darkness.

There is a lot stacked up against us.  I had a couple conversations yesterday at Welcome Saturday with people who were surprised to learn I was the pastor.  One of those was the usual “I’ve never met a woman pastor before” revelation.  But the other was only slightly less common.  I can’t tell you how many times, at events like Welcome Saturday or on a Habitat for Humanity worksite, I’ve heard, “You’re the pastor?!  But you’re so down to earth!”  “Down to earth,” that particular phrase is mentioned every time.  I don’t think it’s as much a comment on me as it is about what people expect from clergy.  They’ve been listening to Jesus, who warned them about people in long robes showing off their long prayers, while bellies rumble.  Why shouldn’t we be down to earth?  God made the earth!  God made the people who inhabit the earth.  God loves them and calls us to love them.  When we do that, with humility and authenticity and generosity of spirit, that is when God is using us to build the house.  The barriers of hypocrisy and judgment and arrogance crumble, and the light of Christ shines like a beacon.  We aren’t called to Christ in order to work our fingers to the bone.  (#breadofanxioustoil)  We’re just called to be ourselves and follow Jesus, and to trust that God will add the increase.  Alleluia and Amen.