Daily Devotions

Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, “Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.”

Then the disciples approached and said to him, “Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?”

He answered, “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit.” Matthew 15:10-14

Those poor Pharisees. We know that they meant well. They really did see themselves as the protectors and defenders and champions of true, authentic, heartfelt devotion to Yahweh. They didn’t run for the hills and disassociate themselves from life like the Essenes. They didn’t cast their faith aside for political expediency like the Herodians. And they certainly didn’t sell themselves out as pawns of the state like the Sadducees. They really did mean well.

They meant well when they offered their strict interpretation of the law to the people. When they warned the people of the judgment to come, the final resurrection, where a good life on earth would take you to the bosom of Abraham and a bad life to the lake of fire.

They meant well when they cautioned the people against pinning their hopes on all of the obviously false messiahs who were peddling their misguided ideas in the marketplace. They opposed them in the name of their old time religion that was good enough for their forefathers so it was good enough for them. Tradition! Tradition!

Those poor Pharisees. They meant well. They certainly had the ear of the people. But when it came to Jesus – who he was, what he taught, what he meant for the world – they were dead wrong. They were blind guides. Blind because they could not see. Blind because they refused to see. And dangerously blind because they led those who followed them into the very pit that they were trying so hard to avoid.

Today the issue is eating kosher. Dietary regulations. Understand that those were traditions that reached back as far as anyone could remember. But they were not rules rooted in good health. They were arbitrary traditions rooted in tribal identity. We are who we are because we are not like other people. No bacon for us! As long as we stick to our rules, we will be OK. The rules are what matter because there is nothing more important than tribal identity. We are not like those dirty Gentiles, we are the people of God. We are special. We are chosen.

It was exactly that mindset that drove the Pharisees to oppose Jesus because of the threat that he posed to their whole system. The same mindset that allowed them to create all sorts of self-serving legal loopholes to twist the faith to their own advantage. They could cling to their precious principles regardless of the havoc that might have created in the lives of people.

Yes, it is hard to admit when we are wrong. It is hard to admit that we have bought the wrong farm, polluted our minds with the wrong ideas, let our hearts follow the wrong loves that led us into holes rather than into wholeness.

Those poor Pharisees. Can we see them? Can we see how they saw the world? Can we see them within us? Or are we blind to the many ways we do the very same things? For the see Jesus clearly means we also see the Pharisees within us clearly as well. If we don’t, then we will channel Jesus through our own self-serving lens and we too will stumble into the pit.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, who should we trust? Where should we turn? What should we follow? How should we change our minds, alter our behaviors, adjust our attitudes? Dozens more innocent people were killed in a hail of bullets this past weekend. Your people. Our brothers and sisters. What voices will lead us out of darkness of blindness and despair into the light of hope and promise? Give us answers and direction, and open our hearts and minds to follow. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Then Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem and said, “Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? For they do not wash their hands before they eat.”

He answered them, “And why do you break the commandment of God for the sake of your tradition? For God said, ‘Honor your father and your mother,’ and, ‘Whoever speaks evil of father or mother must surely die.’ But you say that whoever tells father or mother, ‘Whatever support you might have had from me is given to God,’ then that person need not honor the father. So, for the sake of your tradition, you make void the word of God. You hypocrites! Isaiah prophesied rightly about you when he said: ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.’” Matthew 15:1-9

Let’s start with the delicious irony that the religious leaders attack Jesus because they have noticed that his disciples aren’t studiously observing the rules of ritual washing before they eat. Obviously they have been watching the disciples like hawks. Watching to catch them breaking even the slightest of rules. Just waiting to say GOTCHA!

Can you imagine what it would be like for a police officer to take it upon himself to follow your car all day, ever ready to write a ticket for even the slightest infraction? Following you from home to work to the errands you might run during the day? Rolling through a stop sign. Failing to use your blinkers to change lanes. Riding 1 mph above the speed limit? I doubt there is a driver in America – and certainly NONE in Houston – who could make it to 2:00 PM without enough tickets to require a lawyer.

But the point of traffic laws is not writing tickets. The point of traffic laws is to allow traffic to flow safely. The rules of the road are meant to help drivers safely cooperate with one another so that everyone gets where they need to go. And yes, the point of tickets is to punish those drivers who break those laws. But the whole system depends, not on the ability of police officers to write tickets but on the willingness of the drivers to follow the rules.

Now suppose you were a government official with the power to tell police officers what to do. And suppose you wanted to intimidate someone into doing what you wanted them to do so you planted a police officer in front of their house. Someone who would follow you all day long, writing tickets for every minor infraction they saw, just to mess with you. That is exactly what the Pharisees were doing with Jesus. They were abusing their positions and their power.

But they were messing with the wrong guy. Jesus wasn’t going to be intimidated and he wasn’t going to back down. He got right in their faces. He pointed out how they twisted the rules to benefit themselves. How they ignored the deeper godly purpose of the law so they could serve themselves even as they held their noses in the air and publicly displayed their religiosity. The very definition of hypocrisy!

Self-serving, self-dealing leaders are charlatans. Loopholes are just legalized cheating. Just because you can doesn’t mean you ought to. You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you can never fool Jesus who sees your heart with utter clarity.

Let us pray: Dear Jesus, you know how prone we are to selfishness and self-centeredness. You know how quick we are to cherry pick which rules we follow and which ones we ignore. Forgive us our hypocrisy. Set us free to do the next right thing, which always turns out to be the loving thing, and the just thing. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed. Matthew 14:34-36

Today will be a big day in Houston. The Astros finally won a World Series and today there will be a big parade through town. They even called off school today so that families can join the festivities. (I remember skipping school back in the 1960’s to watch the World Series when they used to play day games. Go Twins!)

Kelley and I watched all the playoff games this year. They were the only games we watched all year. They were also the only televised sporting events I can ever remember watching with Kelley. She did crack me up though – she immediately spoke of the Astros in the most personal of terms. “Are we ahead?” “How are we doing?” I poked a little fun at her until she reminded me that she is a native Houstonian and that the Astros have always been her hometown team. I have to give her that. She also uses “we” for the Texas A&M football team even though she pretty much still doesn’t quite get how the actual game works – but she is an alum and thus has earned the right to use “we”.

Much has been said over the past weeks about how sports can excite and unify a city. Since Houston is one of those places most devastated by the recent hurricanes it is a touching story to know that we got a little diversionary space while watching the Astros fight through the playoffs, and now an emotional pickup to celebrate their win.

I DO value sports, maybe too much. I DO believe that the lessons that kids learn by playing sports can benefit them for a lifetime. I DO believe there is something real about team spirit, something laudatory about doing your best and working hard and playing to win. But there is also a dark side to all of that, just as there is a dark side to everything.

For every coach that teaches her girls that there is no “I” in team, there is another one who points out that there IS an “I” in win. There lies the tension.

Does the fact that the Astros won the World Series this year mean every other team is a bunch of losers? Of course not. Does it mean that Houston is suddenly the best and most important city in the world? Of course not. Does it mean that all of those people who will line the streets today for the big parade have actually accomplished anything that matters in the real world? No. It is fun but it isn’t a whole lot more than that.

Someone once said that people are quick to jump on a band wagon and equally quick to jump off a sinking ship. It’s true. People are fickle that way. Houston is suddenly full of people who might not have watched a single game all year but now cry “I have loved the Astros my whole life and it is the greatest thing in the world to know they are champions!” Fickle.

So it was the Jesus sometimes drew quite the crowds. They came from all around to get the goodies that he promised. Oh, just to see him! Oh, just to touch him!, Oh, just to brush up against his robe! They showed up in droves. They lined the streets. A parade in every town.

But people are fickle. Today they line up to cheer him, hoping to get something good from him. Another day would come when they would line up to mock him, to humiliate him. From band wagon to sinking ship.

Don’t let the crowds fool you. What matters most about Jesus won’t always attract attention nor will it attract much support. But it is the hope of the world.

Let us pray: Gracious Lord, we come to you with our hopes and our hurts. We come to you seeking your wisdom and your guidance. You are our champion, our Savior, our Comforter. You help us make sense of the world. May your eyes be our eyes, may your heart by our heart. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray.

When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea.

But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” Matthew 14:22-33

For better or worse, for whatever reason, I don’t live with the idea that I have to “prove” Jesus to the world. There was a time when I felt a responsibility to engage in arguments with those who don’t share my faith. A time when I sought to convince people about Jesus. A time when

I felt pressure to “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” (1 Peter 3)

Over the years, I have come to a look at all of that from a different perspective. We are not called to “prove” Jesus, we are called to follow Jesus. That is a much healthier, holier, and even more productive, way of being.

If we come at life seeking to “prove” Jesus then our focus will be on the weight of our arguments, our logic, our persuasiveness. We turn the faith into a head game. Our goal would be to convince others to see things differently, to believe things differently, and maybe, in the end, to act differently. The measure of our faithfulness would be the number of people we were able to influence to join the team. We turn the faith into a contest.

When we realize that we don’t need to “prove” Jesus, only to follow him, then the focus shifts from a head game to a way of life. A way of being in the world. A way of thinking about life that changes how we act toward others, how we perceive problems and imagine, and work toward, solutions. We then let God be God as we focus on doing our part as active participants in a community of faith and the new world God is creating in our midst.

As long as Peter thinks it is up to him, he sinks. When he keeps his eyes on Jesus, he walks on water too. As long as the disciples focus on the wind, the waves, and the challenges before them, they are stuck in fear. When they let go and let God, Jesus calms the seas.

This reminds me of a great golf tip I once heard. The teacher said that the goal of golf is not to hit the golf ball, the goal is to get the ball into a cup. So he invited me to set up for a swing and then to think about, to visualize, where I wanted the ball to go. Then, in my swing, rather than focusing on the ball, forcing it to go where I thought it ought to go, I should swing freely, imagining where I wanted the ball to land, and then getting out of the way so it could happen. Imagine my surprise when it actually worked.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, help us keep our eyes on you. In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty, the challenges and the obstacles of our lives, keep our eyes fixed on your presence, your power, your purpose. And when we falter, and when we sink, reach down and take us by the hand. Draw us ever nearer to you. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.

When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”

They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” And he said, “Bring them here to me.” Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass.

Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. Matthew 14:13-21

Can you imagine living in a world without instant communication? For the vast majority of human existence, that is the way it was. People lived their lives with little to no idea of what was happening in the wider world. There are still people who can tell stories about what that felt like.

I’m not that old but I remember life without TV. I remember finally getting a TV but we only got three channels. We had one phone in the house. We had the same telephone number the whole time I grew up. If we weren’t home, we missed the call. If someone else was home, they took the message. If Huntley, Brinkley, or Walter Cronkite said it, it must be true.

But today we are overwhelmed with information. We have voices in our ears from every direction, all clamoring to pitch a story to catch our attention, all talking at us but looking beyond us to the ratings and advertising dollars that keep them high on the hog. And we react to that stuff! Immediately! Viscerally! It moves us!! Well, for a few days…. and then we move on… to the next BIG STORY. It is crazy making. I’m thinking, intentionally crazy making. And right around the corner from crazy making is money making and crazy sells so they keep it coming at us.

Jesus lived in a different day. A different age. News still got around. He got word about what happened to John the Baptist. It was too much. He needed time to process it. He needed what we all need when we’re feeling overwhelmed. He needed to get away for a bit. He went off, by himself, to a deserted place.

When is the last time you did that? When is the last time that you turned off the phone, stepped away from the computer, left the TV screen black, let the newspapers pile up, and found somewhere quiet to just sit. Think. Remember. Pray. Wonder. If Jesus needed time like that, don’t you think it would do us a world of good as well?

But there is a reason why only one of seven days gets to be the Sabbath. Disconnection has its place but life is about connection and engagement. Jesus had his cares and heartaches but so did the world and they couldn’t stay away from each other for long. Pretty soon the crowds found him and they wanted what he had to give.

Here Jesus teaches us two important lessons about life. First, he channels his own pain into a stream of compassion toward the world. He didn’t have to. He could have gone with rage and anger and retribution and violence. But he came out of his time in reflection from a place of compassion.

And second, he teaches us that we all have certain basic needs, the most important of which is each other. The crowds needed teaching and healing but they also needed dinner. Whatever else might be said of this story, in the end, the disciples learning something about what it means to partner with Jesus in feeding the world with what matters. Deserted places become community centers. Hunger becomes satisfied. Scarcity becomes abundance. As my Mom used to say during the best of our meals, “Eat up, there’s more where that came from.”

Ironic, isn’t it? To live in a day with more communication but less community. More information but less transformation. More awareness of need but less willingness to work together to address it.

Maybe we would do well to take more time for reflection.

Let us pray: Come to us, Lord, in our hunger, and feed us with what truly satisfies. Come to us, in our fears, and comfort us with the willingness to befriend our enemies, to love those who challenge us, to see as you see. Come to us in our brokenness with broken bread that unites us. Bring us to that place where we know what it means to have enough. In Jesus’ name. Amen.