Matthew 23:1-12
The scholars who created the lectionary—the three year cycle of readings we use to guide worship—were concerned about telling the major portions of our story in worship. They were concerned with choosing scriptures for ordinary time as well as for each holy season. They were not at all concerned with choosing scriptures to along with secular holidays, like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day or Veterans’ Day. Nor were they concerned with choosing scriptures for normal traditions in the life of the church that are outside of the sacred seasons.
But every once in a while, I wonder if there was a sadistic member of the committee who thought, “This is stewardship season in most churches. Let’s see what those pastors can do with this on pledge Sunday!” It’s not a natural fit.
First let me point out that because we hear a lot about the Pharisees in the Gospels, we may have an inflated view of their importance in Judaism. “The Pharisees were a sect of Judaism that existed, alongside many others, in Palestinian Jewish society from about 200 BCE to 100 CE. . . . They sought to preserve Israel’s identity by strict adherence to purity and Sabbath laws. . . . Their original purpose was admirable, to enhance inward faithfulness to the law in daily life. In practice they had a tendency to multiply rules to the point that keeping the law could become a burden rather than a celebratory response to God’s goodness.”[1] This is what Jesus was responding to when he said, “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others.”
Unfortunately, that sounds familiar, and not just from scripture. On Facebook and Twitter this week I asked “What heavy burdens does the church place on people today, the way the Pharisees did in Jesus’ day?” A childhood friend, whose grown daughter has a rare autoimmune disorder, wrote, “The church has sometimes judged those with disabilities as not having enough faith for ‘complete’ healing, when in reality such attitudes are the true disability.” A clergy friend said that the church has placed a heavy burden on people by telling them “To never doubt ‘the word of God’ even though intelligent people would have to have questions about it.” Another said that the heaviest burden the church places on people is “To live in perfection.”
I do believe this last one is one of our greatest ills, as individuals and as “the church” at large. We place upon others the burden of perfectionism. We expect people to never fail us, to never let us down. And when they do, we write them off. We expect people to be right all the time. And when they are wrong, we lord it over them. We expect people to know everything. And when they don’t, we ridicule them. We expect people to never sin. And when they do, we refuse to grant them forgiveness. We expect people to make good choices all the time. And when they don’t, we blame them for their circumstances. We expect people to be perfect. And they aren’t.
And because they aren’t, the burden of perfectionism leads to another burden . . . the burden of pretense. People know they are not living up to our expectations, so they pretend they’re something or someone they’re not. They know they’re not perfect, so they hide their faults and deny their failures. They know they don’t have all the answers, so they refuse to allow the questions. They know they will be judged, so they judge others first. They know they have sinned or simply made mistakes, and so they hide, like Adam and Eve in the garden, alone and ashamed. We place upon others the burden of perfectionism and pretense, and then we blame them for becoming hypocrites.
When we place these burdens upon other people, we can’t escape the weight ourselves. We expect ourselves to be perfect, to never fail. And when we do, we feel like failures. We expect ourselves to be right all the time. And when we are wrong, we refuse to admit it. We expect ourselves to know everything. And when we don’t, we feel stupid. We expect ourselves to never sin. And when we do, we refuse to grant ourselves forgiveness, even though God has already forgiven us.
And because we aren’t perfect, the burden of perfectionism leads to the same burden it led to for others: the burden of pretense.
It’s hard to know which comes first. Do we place these burdens upon others and then place them upon ourselves? Or do we place them first upon ourselves?—and if we have to live up to such impossible standards, then darn it, everybody else should, too! Either way, the result is the same: We tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others. And we’re all getting back-aches.
When the Bible points out a problem, I always try to find the solution in the same scripture. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it in our scripture text for today. But at the end of the same chapter, at the end of the same speech, I get a clue. Jesus says to Jerusalem and its inhabitants: “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.”
Joshua, the little boy who is so special to our family, dressed as a chicken for Halloween. I call him “The cutest little chicken you ever did see!” And I would be happy to show you a picture after church! He is standing there, grinning from ear to ear, his hands curved under his arms, and he looks so very proud to be a chicken.
I want to be proud to be a chicken, too . . . to be one of the brood under the wings of Christ’s love, to be nestled safe and warm with my fellow chickens, in the wings of grace. This is how we combat the demon of perfectionism. This is how we become like the saints we remembered today. We gather under the wings of grace.
We have received grace, and grace we give.
Amen.
[1] McKenzie, Alyce. “Do As I Say, Not As I Do.” Patheos.com