“You Might Be a Hypocrite If…” Robert M. Thompson, Pastor Corinth Reformed Church 150 Sixteenth Avenue NW Hickory, North Carolina 28601 828.328.6196 corinthtoday.org (© 2015 by Robert M. Thompson. Unless otherwise indicated, Scriptures quoted are from The Holy Bible, New International Version, Copyright 2011 by New York International Bible Society.) The bottom line is that I own my own flaws. Luke 13:10-17 March 22, 2015 A few suggestions You might be a Jeff Foxworthy fan if you know where I borrowed today’s sermon title from. Foxworthy says you might be a redneck if your wife has ever said, “Come move this transmission so I can take a bath.” Or if your coffee table used to be a cable spool.” (We had two of those for years, even after we came to Corinth.) He also says you might be from North Carolina if you’re fixin’ to go anywhere, if you live for basketball season, or if you think everyone who graduates from Duke goes back home to New York. You might be from Illinois if last two governors met each other in prison or if you have ever worn a parka and shorts at the same time. You might be a teacher if you get a secret thrill out of laminating, or if you believe in aerial spraying of Ritalin. I wonder what would happen if Jeff Foxworthy teamed up with Jesus to complete the sentence, “You might be a hypocrite if….” I have a few suggestions – 1 …your compassion for those who suffer ranks with your compassion toward your mother-in-law. …you pray for a miracle and when it happens, you say, “Never mind, Lord, I got this.” …you watch Clint Eastwood playing Dirty Harry and think out loud, “I’m God’s ‘Enforcer’.” …you have a bumper sticker that reads, “I like you…in prison.” …you secretly wish Jesus had cleared his actions and speeches with you. What angers Jesus Each of those tongue-in-cheek comments about hypocrites comes from a study of Luke 13:10-17. I know we’re preaching a series of sermons on miracles, but I couldn’t help but see more about hypocrisy than miracle in this text. Did you ever notice that the sin of hypocrisy seems to tick Jesus off more than any other sin? Wouldn’t you think prostitution would annoy him? He’s rather kind to prostitutes. Wouldn’t you think collusion with the oppressive Roman Empire would make him irate? He cozies up to tax collectors and centurions. Wouldn’t you think Jesus would get a little mad when people drove spikes into the feet and hands of an innocent man – especially when he was that innocent man? Instead he prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” But if you think Jesus is soft on all sin, that he just goes around dispensing unrequested grace on all kinds of sins, you haven’t read what Jesus had to say about hypocrites. A good summary of Jesus’ message in Matthew 23 would be, “Damn you, hypocrites, you’re going to hell and trying to take else everyone with you.”1 If Jesus thinks worse of hypocrites than prostitutes, tax collectors, and crucifiers, I want to make sure I’m not one. This story about Jesus healing a crippled woman on the Sabbath day is one of many in the Gospels designed to teach about and warn against hypocrisy. Let’s trace briefly through this text the characteristics of the people Jesus calls hypocrites in 1 “Woe” (Greek ouai) is an onomatopoeic cry of either anguish or anger. When used as the latter, it is an expression of denunciation and condemnation. 2 verse 15. They’re personified by one individual, but it’s clear he is only voicing what a lot of Jesus’ “opponents” (17) are thinking. You might be a hypocrite if… 1. You don’t care (10-11). We learn in verse 10 that Jesus is teaching on a Sabbath in a synagogue. First century synagogues were buildings where Jews assembled not only for worship, but for communal meals, education, charity, political discussion, and even shelter. On the Sabbath, according to Jewish law and tradition, the building would be used almost exclusively for public prayers and reading of Scripture. In verse 11 we meet a woman at the synagogue on the Sabbath. Luke describes her as “crippled by a spirit for eighteen years.” If that description evokes any response but empathy, you might be a hypocrite. If you expend too much mental energy pondering whether her condition was arthritis, osteoporosis, spondylitis deformans, or something else, you might be a hypocrite. If for you she’s a case study on whether demon possession does or does cause physical deformity, you might be a hypocrite. If your urgent question is wondering whether women like her were supposed to be in the synagogue, you missed the point. Luke introduces her not so you can analyze her, but so you can feel with her. Think about yourself eighteen years ago. Where did you live? What did you do? What if every day of your life since then you could not stand up straight and you slept with pain, walked with pain, worked with pain? Every day. Eighteen years. When you read verse 11, do you hurt with her as a person, as a fellow human being, as a sufferer? If not, you might be a hypocrite. 2. You would rather debate than celebrate (12-13). 3 In verse 12, Jesus saw her. She must have been at the back of the room, because he called her to the front. Then he spoke to her. Observation, initiation, conversation – that’s how Jesus showed he cared. “Woman,” he said, “you are set free from your infirmity.” That’s an interesting choice of vocabulary. Luke, the physician, seems very careful here to note that Jesus did not say, “You are healed.” He said, “You are set free.” Walking upright without pain is freedom. In verse 13, Jesus put his hands on her. The result was immediate. She stood up straight and praised God. Praise is the instinctive response to what God does… unless you’re a hypocrite. If you’re a hypocrite, as we will soon see in this story and we have seen in other stories, you want to debate what happened, who’s really responsible for the healing (might be the devil!), whether this should have been done in this place at this time by this person. But if you’re someone Jesus has set free, you just want to shout “Hallelujah!” 3. You are more concerned about others’ sins than your own (14). In contrast to the healed woman, the synagogue ruler was “indignant” (14). But he didn’t address Jesus. He spoke to the people and said, “There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath.” I want to cut him a little slack here. He’s just doing his job. He has been entrusted with the responsibility to oversee the synagogue with rules. First, he wasn’t paid for this job. He wasn’t clergy; this was volunteer work. Second, he didn’t make up the rules. Third, he was sincere about what he believed is right and wrong. Keeping the Sabbath is a key component of what makes Jewish people “holy” – set apart. In the Bible and in Jewish tradition it’s never about whether the laws make sense to outsiders. It’s about a willingness to honor God whether I understand his laws or not. Jews have always been serious about discerning whether a particular behavior honors the Sabbath. 4 Don’t overstate the legal conflict here. Oral interpretations of the Sabbath law allowed for medical attention on the Sabbath if a life (human or animal) was in danger, or if the situation called for unavoidably urgent attention – like a woman in labor. But on this day which honors God, if it can wait, it should wait. This woman’s condition has lasted 18 years. One more day won’t hurt. Or will it? The problem, I suggest, is not careful attention to what God wants. Jesus’ teaching consistently encourages us to ask what matters to God most, both now and at the final judgment. The problem is that this ruler is so focused on what Jesus and the people did wrong than what he did. This guy was calling Jesus a hypocrite without using the word or without even looking at him. If you are prone to notice hypocrisy in others, you might be a hypocrite. 4. You think religion is about restrictions (15-16). Here is where Jesus uses the h-word: “You hypocrites!” he exclaims. “Think about what you do on the Sabbath. You have an animal that is tied up on the Sabbath, and you loose it so it can drink. Must not this woman, Abraham’s daughter, whom Satan has tied up for 18 long years, be loosed on the Sabbath day?” Notice three things. First, Jesus uses the word “loose/untie/free” to refer both to the animals and to the woman. Second, Jesus says she “must” be freed. It’s hard to translate into English from Greek, but Jesus doesn’t say she “should” be freed or that it’s “right.” It has to happen. Third, Jesus says 18 long years. He has so thoroughly tapped into her suffering. Religion, for Jesus, frees people. You may recall the sermon a couple of weeks ago on Rights and Freedoms. Go back and review it. Jesus wants us to be free! In a sermon on The New Covenant a couple years ago, I admitted that my approach to parenting when 5 my kids were growing up was to try to keep them within the cattle guards of acceptable behavior. But God prefers imperfect intimacy to outward conformity. Take the Sabbath issue. What the Jewish system missed is that the Sabbath was made to set people free. It was never about “what I can’t do on the Sabbath.” It was about “what I don’t have to do seven days a week.” That’s what we don’t understand about the work-rest rhythm. As long as I’m living under the tyranny of the 24-7 task list, always feeling obligated to spin my wheels, I am not free. The Sabbath law was made for freedom, not guilt or shame. Jesus said on a different occasion, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). Jesus knows this woman being tied to her disability was a perfect parallel to the manmade rules the Pharisees had used to tyrannize people. He wanted her – and he wanted them – to be free. It’s not about the freedom to sin, it’s about the freedom not to sin. Why? So that the barriers that keep me from loving God and loving others will be smashed to smithereens. 5. You’re more worried about your image than Jesus’ image (17). Luke says in verse 17 that after Jesus called out the hypocrisy of the religious leaders, “all his opponents were humiliated, but the people were delighted with all the wonderful things he was doing.” This is best understood in a culture of shame and honor. The interchange between Jesus and the Pharisees is the first century version of March Madness. There can be no ties. You either win or lose. In that culture, in a conflict like this one, you don’t look for a win-win solution. Verse 17 is their equivalent of saying, “And Jesus moved on in the bracket.” What he was moving on toward was his death, but that’s another part of the story. We can still learn something about hypocrisy from this part of the story, however. Luke’s perspective as he writes this is a retrospective, as is ours. These religious leaders did not recognize who they were dealing with. This is Jesus, the Son of God. It’s not 6 only that they shouldn’t have tried to joust with him. It’s that their greatest concern should have been what people think of Jesus, not of them. Hypocrites today live in a 21st century version of the culture of shame and honor. They hate letting people see their flaws, their sins, their shame. They are so worried about protecting their image that they forget that being vulnerable about our sins honors Jesus who forgives them. A lesson from Cinderella Hypocrisy is pretending. The word is borrowed from the theater. An actor wears a mask or plays a part. A hypocrite fakes his religion. Let’s be clear here. A sincere effort to please God is not hypocrisy. It’s not hypocritical to study the Bible in order to learn more about what matters to God. It’s not hypocritical to call sin “sin,” or necessarily to call out someone else on their sin. That’s what Jesus is doing here – pointing at the Pharisees and calling out their sin of hypocrisy. But here’s what humbles me. You might be closer to hypocrisy if you (a) study the Bible, (b) teach the Bible, and (c) relate mostly to religious people who think like you do. Those actions don’t make you a hypocrite, but they make you more prone to hypocrisy. How do I know if I am a hypocrite? Here are five indicators. If you’re writing anything down, write this. 1. Condescension. When my words or thoughts constantly criticize other Christians or churches, even my own family members. 2. Indifference. When I see the flaws in others but never stop to ask what might have made them that way or what it might be like to be them. 3. Excuses. When my interpretations of God’s rules or my thoughts about what pleases God, work in my favor. 4. Avoidance. When I spend no time asking, “Lord, what do you want to say to me?” and give no one permission to hold me accountable. 7 5. Defensiveness. When I offer excuses, not just as a first response, but as a way of life, for my own behavior. I’ve been asking myself all week, “What’s the opposite of hypocrisy?” I found the answer in the story of Cinderella. There’s a new movie out, you know. Critics love it. One wrote, “Disney got it right.” Moviegoers love it. I have to admit I wasn’t too enthused about seeing it on Date Night, but sometimes you go see the movie your date wants to see. I loved it! Spoiler alert: I’m going to tell you the ending. Cinderella gets the prince. What I liked about this movie was one interchange between Cinderella and the prince. I leaned over to Linda and said, “That’s my sermon on Sunday!” When you think about it, much of the story of Cinderella is about hypocrisy – about pretending. Cinderella isn’t really that girl at the ball. And when she first meets the prince, he claims he’s an apprentice in the castle. They’re both wearing masks. The tension in the story is about whether they can live happily ever after when the masks are removed. That’s the tension in every budding romance, is it not? So here’s the line for which I whipped out my phone (yes, in the theater) to type it out before I forgot it. After the shoe fits, the prince, dressed in his royal best, looks at Cinderella in her tattered dress and asks her to marry him. She answers, “Will you take me as I am, an honest country girl?” He answers, “If you will take me as I am, an apprentice still learning his trade.” What do you call that? I’ve been wondering what word contrasts with hypocrisy, and I’ve toyed with several options – authentic, real, genuine. I don’t think that’s the right direction. In a book titled The Emotionally Healthy Church, Peter Scazzero contrasts “proud and defensive” (that’s hypocrisy) with “broken and vulnerable” (114-115). That’s it! Scazaero has a 2-page list of what that looks like. The bottom line is that I own my own flaws. I don’t flaunt them; I own them. Then I am so much more ready to extend compassion to those whose flaws are different than mine. When I am broken and vulnerable 8 about where I miss the mark, we can journey together toward wholeness. Amen. 9
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