Psalm 15:2-5—The one who does justice will live in God’s presence.

James 1:17-18, 21-22, 27—Looking after orphans and widows in their distress and keeping oneself unspotted by the world make for pure worship without stain before our God and Father.

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23—Nothing that enters from outside makes you impure; that which comes out of you, and only that, constitutes impurity.

The religious rulers of Jesus’ time had allowed themselves to be caught up in enforcing every detail of the tiniest part of a rule while they ignored violations of the greatest commandment, to love God and to love one another.  In today’s passage from Mark, they criticize Jesus because some of his followers have eaten without purifying their hands in the manner of the Jewish custom.

“This people pays me lip service!”  Jesus is outraged.  Quoting Isaiah, he calls the Pharisees and the legal experts from Jerusalem hypocrites.  They disregard God’s commands and cling to what is human tradition, In short, they put their own purity laws above the law of God’s love.

Over and over in Mark’s Gospel we hear Jesus' outright condemnation of religious self-righteousness, echoing the long tradition of Israel before its God.  Our reading from Deuteronomy today sets forth the challenge:  Hear, that you may live!  Hear, people of God, the word of God, the word of love.  Love God, love your neighbor as yourself.

The psalmist picks up the theme.  Do justice, and you will live in God’s presence.  The way you treat one another earns you your place in heaven.  And the list of just actions is a familiar refrain:  do justice, think truth in your heart, do no harm to your fellow human being, do not take up against your neighbor, do not take up complaints against your neighbor, fear the Lord.

The scarring experiences of rejection for not following local custom are not far from the surface of our memories.  It’s part of our culture to “dress up” for church, for example, and in some places people are still subtly ostracized when they fail to measure up to the local custom.  The judgments levied on how people dress do not stem from an absolute standard, either.  People in one community will look askance at those who dress casually for Mass, while people in another community will reject those who put on their formal best.  God help those who show up in out-of-fashion attire!

It’s not only surface appearances that cause us to reject our neighbors.  Sit in the back pew some weekend and watch what happens.  The pews will gradually fill after Mass starts and will empty at Communion time.  In parish meetings, whether it be liturgy or evangelization or parish planning, these back-sitters and their behavior are discussed.  Made to feel unacceptable among the good people of God, they nevertheless continue to fulfill their Sunday obligation.  Someone has erroneously told them that they cannot receive Communion as a result of divorce, for example, so they come late—ashamed to be seen by former friends who chastise them—and they leave early—so as to be less obvious when they do not join the procession to the table.  Given the way we treat them, the astonishing fact is that they still show up at all!

Today’s readings are a call away from putting our rituals above people, no matter where we are—in our church pews, at family gatherings, in school, at work.  Pure worship before God, James says, lies in doing justice—“looking after widows and orphans in their distress and keeping oneself unspotted by the world.” 

Pure worship is not great liturgy, though great liturgy is not to be avoided; it’s fun to celebrate God’s goodness in a community of love.  Without justice on the way, however, there’s nothing to celebrate.  It’s the story of the Good Samaritan, all over again.  If we do not love others, our worship is pointless.

As we go about this week, let’s be sensitive to the ways we judge others when they do not follow the customs we set up for them, and let’s invite them into the group with us.  Let’s make them feel welcome and learn to cherish the gift they are to us.  God has sent them as a reminder to us of what is truly important in our spiritual lives:  to do justice, love tenderly, and walk humbly with our God.

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (B):  Jubilee Justice

Isaiah 35:4-7—Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf be cleared.

Psalm 146:7-10—God secures justice for the oppressed.

James 2:1-5—God chose those who are poor in the eyes of the world.

Mark 7:31-37—Jesus makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak.

How long, Lord?  When will justice be done?

The earth cries out for justice.  Around the world women and children are bought and sold like cattle.  Around the world men and women and children work long hours in sordid and unsafe conditions for little pay.  Around the world people starve to death and die of diseases that a simple shot of penicillin would cure.  And in our ordinary, everyday lives we shout at our employees, cut into lines ahead of people, slough off at work, belittle our children, and bear grudges for old injuries.

How long?  How long will we let this go on?

In today’s gospel Mark shows Jesus making the deaf hear and the mute speak, sure sign to his audience of the coming of the Messiah, the arrival of Jubilee!  The crowds around Jesus are amazed “beyond all bounds” because the signs that the promised one had come were unmistakable. 

Jesus’ followers were familiar with the prophecy of Isaiah in today’s first reading.  When God comes to save you, Isaiah told the people, the eyes of the blind will be opened and the ears of the deaf will be cleared, the lame will leap and the dumb will sing. 

The responsorial psalm is a litany of the just whom God will save:  the oppressed, the hungry, captives, the blind, strangers, the fatherless, widows.  As always, it is the best measure of an individual and of a people to set up the yardstick of this psalm.

Here in the United States we enjoy great abundance.  Yet two thousand years after the birth of Christ we have not yet embraced the Jubilee he called for.  We fail to deliver that “sacrifice of justice” which is forgiveness.  We seek instead a revenge that we call justice, with our treatment of Iraq as the latest example.  How many times do we think, “I’ll forgive, but I’ll never forget!”  And we fail to deliver the “sacrifice for justice” which is almsgiving; never secure in having enough for ourselves, we fail to give to others. 

As St. Paul puts it, we “discriminate in our hearts” against the poor.  We label them undeserving.  We call them lazy.  We shy away from their illnesses and diseases and poverty. 

The picture St. Paul paints of our assembly is a familiar one.  We have heard many versions over the years, from the overburdened St. Christopher bearing the Christ child across a raging river to the ragged, filthy hippy working his way forward in the Sunday assembly, shunned by all until he reaches the front pew and turns into Jesus before he disappears. 

St. Paul reminds us of the favoritism in our greetings, depending on how a person is dressed.  He admonishes us to remember that God chose “those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom promised to those who love him.”

Who are these poor?  Who are the people we are too blind to see, too deaf to hear?  Are they victims of AIDS?  Immigrants?  Iraqis?  Muslims?  Welfare recipients?  People with a different sexual orientation?  People of color?  Or pale people?  People of a different political party?  Migrant workers?  People who make more money than we do?  Or people who make less? 

This discrimination “in our hearts” is a subtle and destructive force.  It’s not something we can look straight at and recognize.  It depends on the sin in our hearts for its direction, and it awaits our commitment to vigilant faith to defeat it.

As we go about this week, let’s call on Jesus to heal the blindness that keeps us from noticing the discrimination in our hearts.  Let’s embrace Jubilee justice in every part of our lives.