Saint Andrew’s Episcopal Church

Rev. Daniel E. Somers, Deacon

St. Andrew’s Church

Sermon

September 2, 2018

Les Tartuffes

            The church is full of hypocrites.  Ever hear that?  Moliere many times over.  It usually comes from people anxious to justify the neglect of their own religious duties by criticizing the church.  Jesus is very hard on hypocrites.  In fact, he is harder on them than he is on anybody else.  Today’s Gospel is a good example, where Jesus once more gets into it with the Pharisees and scribes, the official religious leaders of the day.  

Let’s consider what Jesus was talking about when he called out hypocrites.  I am indebted to Rev. James Liggett, recently retired and one of my instructors at General Theological Seminary, Christopher Wells, for their observations on today’s text.  What we usually mean when we use the word is most likely not what Jesus had in mind when he used it – multiple translations later – Aramaic to Greek to Latin to English.

Today’s dictionary says that hypocrites are people who are playing a part, people who deliberately pretend to have beliefs and virtues that they, in fact, do not have at all – the Tartuffes of the world – which the hypocrites both know they don’t have and don’t particularly want to have.  Hypocrites in this sense are people who are faking it and who know they are faking it.  The point is deception.  (In fact, the word comes from acting a part in a play).   Hypocrisy in this sense is really vicious.  It’s a misuse of religious faith and it mocks God and the Church.  Doubtless, it greatly grieves the Lord.  But two other things need to be said about this sense of hypocrisy.  First, the Church is not full of this kind of hypocrite and, second, this isn’t what Jesus was talking about anyway.

About the first thing: It just isn’t true.  Most church people, indeed virtually all the church people I know, believe what they say they believe, or they want to believe it, or they are trying to believe it, or they wish they could believe it – their doubt is sincere.  And, truth be told, that’s as good at it gets.

In the same way, most church people I know are living by their best take on the moral precepts of our faith, or they are trying to, or they want to, or they know deeply both the struggle that comes with contending with God and the weight of judgment that brings.  Nobody gets it right all the time; everybody gets it wrong more often than necessary; anybody and everybody can do better.  But outright, deliberate faking the whole business to seem good while planning to be bad – this is rare, and I think we ought to realize that, and say that, and celebrate that.  The church is not full of that sort of hypocrite. The Church is full of sinners – but that’s another matter entirely – and that’s as it should be.

Now, in the light of all that, I’m not sure whether or not it’s good news that, when Jesus condemned hypocrites and hypocrisy, he was not talking about this, but about something else. You see, the notion of acting a part was a Greek notion, and there are really no Hebrew or Aramaic parallels to this idea of hypocrisy.  So, we don’t know what Aramaic word Jesus used that the Gospel writers translated as the Greek word hypocrite – rest assured, it was not polite.  Still, the best way to illustrate what Jesus was probably talking about is by way of an old Zen story.

Once upon a time, the great Zen master Sasha was standing with a friend at the top of a tall tower.  His friend looked down the road and saw a line of saffron-robed monks walking toward them.  “Look,” his friend said to Sasha, “Holy men.”

“Those aren’t holy men,” Sasha said, “and I can prove it to you.”  So, they waited in silence until the monks were walking directly below the tower.

Then Sasha leaned over the tower’s rail and called down, “Hey, holy men.”  The monks all looked up — and Sasha turned to his friend and said, “See?”

Those monks were exactly what Jesus meant when he talked about hypocrites.  So were the Pharisees and scribes.  Jesus does not attack the Pharisees and scribes for pretending to be good when they were really evil.  The vast majority of them were not evil.

Instead, Jesus castigates them because their self-righteous convictions about their own goodness had built a smug wall around them, isolated them from the rest of the community, and made them deaf to any further word from God.

The Pharisees kept the law and keeping the law – the moral law and the religious law —is a good thing.  We should do that. But to believe and act like your own righteousness in the sight of God comes to you because you keep the law – this is absolutely deadly, and it is the heart of what Jesus means by hypocrisy.

To cultivate within yourself moral virtues and behavior which not everyone around you cultivates is, again, a good thing.  Indeed, it’s a distinctive mark of the Christian life.  But to believe and act like your own righteousness in the sight of God comes to you because you are more virtuous than most people you know – or more virtuous than some other group, or some specific other person – this is what Jesus insisted was far more evil than the particulars of any individual sinner.

There is only one place to look if we want to find out how good we are, or how righteous we are – only one place.  That place is God – God’s absolute goodness, God’s absolute justice, God’s absolute demands, and, finally, God’s absolute love and mercy.  That is the hallmark, the gold standard.

If we look to ourselves for our righteousness, if we look to the things we have done, or the rules we have kept or the law we obey – or if we look to the failings of others (and say, “at least I’m not like them”) – if we do that, if we try to find in ourselves, or in others, the answer to how good we are or how righteous we are – if we do that, then we are who Jesus is talking about when he talks about hypocrites.

To be sure, it’s a good and important thing to obey the law and to live the life we are called to live.  None of this talk of hypocrisy excuses moral or religious failing, nor does it mean that the way we behave doesn’t matter.  The way we behave matters a lot, for many reasons. Deuteronomy today talks about how God’s people are to live in such a way that the world around them can look at them and be drawn to God.  Set an example.  And Paul talks about how every speck of virtue we can nurture is absolutely essential if we are to live our calling.

At the same time, when Jesus condemns the hypocrites, he is not talking about evil people who pretend.  He is talking about well-behaved people who trust in themselves, who consider themselves finished products, and so cannot see or hear either themselves or God very well.

Jesus thought it was dreadfully important, so we have to pay especially close attention and keep alert.

Remember Sasha in the tower and those monks.  And remember that our trust, and our hope, and our confidence, can be found in only one place – it is never in ourselves – it is always in the love and the mercy of God.  It is this indifferent faithfulness borne not of our many blessings but of one faith in God that is the source of our blessings.

There is a time for the stillness of Christ, a time to be treasured and cultivated.  This quiet joy is rich and deep and inexhaustible.  There is, however, another way no less to be treasured, the way of Jesus who was said to move often and “immediately”.  His Spirit wells up within us as a fountain of eternal life.  An ancient song, in describing young lovers, describes as well those who are filled with the Spirit.  They are “leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills” (Song of Solomon 2:8).  They are young lovers looking for love: “he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the window, looking through the lattice” (Song 2:10).  The Spirit-filled life says to life itself, “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away” (Song 2:10).  This love is all the good work that God has prepared for us to walk in.  This in the day that the Lord has made – let us rejoice in it!