A People in White Hats
Mark 7:1-8;14-15,
21-23
13 Pentecost Proper
17
Life seemed so simple back then. As Roy and Dale rode
across the silver screen on their golden palominos, the good guys wore
white hats and rode light colored horses; the bad guys wore black hats
and rode dark horses. Not a word needed to come out of their
mouths for us to know who was good and who was bad. And we knew
with total certainty who would come out victorious. Even before
we read the titles of the episodes like The Train Robbery, Ride in the Death Wagon, Shoot to Kill, and Ranch War,
we knew Dale in her cowgirl skirt with a gun belt slung across her hip,
and Roy in his plaid shirt and cowboy jeans, pistol on his hip, would
carry the day. “Happy Trails to You” was the perfect theme song
because we all know the good guys ride on happy trails until they meet
again. And, the bad guys are punished for their evil ways.
It makes life so simple when we can put people and events in neat
little categories. It’s so, so…black or white!
It’s tempting to read the scriptures that way, too. It’s
especially easy and convenient to label the “bad guys” and put black
hats on them.
The Pharisees in today’s gospel provide the perfect stereotype
scapegoat. We all know how legalistic they are. Why, they
have a rule for everything—for every situation, for every kind of human
interaction, for every possibility that might happen in human
relationships and the relationship between God and man.
They took very seriously the dictate from Moses in the reading from
Deuteronomy that we heard this morning. “Moses said, so now
Israel, give heed to the statutes and ordinances that I am teaching you
to observe, so that you may live to enter and occupy the land that the
Lord, the God of your ancestors, is giving you. You must neither add
anything to what I command you nor take away anything from it.”
They were intent on protecting their faith at a time when many faiths
and many gods competed. They were scrupulous about fulfilling
every aspect of the law. They were especially vigilant about
honoring the purity laws — and especially those that related to food.
So their outrage at Jesus and his followers is understandable.
Again and again Jesus broke those laws. He touched dead people and
lepers; he ate with sinners; he violated the Sabbath. Perhaps they
could have forgiven that in Jesus’ followers because they were
uneducated common people — often gentiles, but they could not forgive
Jesus. He was educated in the Jewish ways and yet he did not
teach nor did he command his disciples to follow those laws.
Instead, he focused on things like love and forgiveness and servanthood
so the Pharisees took him to task for the shortcomings of his disciples.
Jesus’ response to the Pharisees was not sugar coated. He quoted
Isaiah. He accused the Pharisees, in no uncertain terms, that
they honored him with their lips, but not in their hearts. But I
don’t think he was saying, “Throw out the law!” Remember he said,
“Do not think I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have
come not to abolish but to fulfill.”
I don’t think Jesus saw the Pharisees as the guys in black hats; I
think he saw them as the guys who started out with white hats.
But the white hats had become darkened by the clouds of dark and dirty
smoke that came from within the Pharisees. It was not the nature
of Jesus to give up on anyone—no matter how off the mark they
were. Again and again he calls us to return. He doesn’t
give up on us either.
Two weeks ago, we visited a town in Iowa much like many small
Midwestern towns. It has a square — like Berryville’s square and
located on that square are a number of restaurants. One of them,
Tina’s Café, has been there for a lot of years. Tina is no
longer the perky, trim young woman she once was, but she and her
waitresses, now clad in tight jeans and t-shirts rather than the short
waitress uniforms they used to wear, still serve the rather mediocre
food with whole-hearted, generous service to all who enter their doors.
They call everyone “Honey” or “Sweetie” and they chat about everything
from the weather and the corn yield to the Saturday night high school
football game with all who gather there. They call everyone from the
town by name and welcome strangers like long-lost friends.
Several years ago, a new place popped up on the square. It was
everything Tina’s Café was not. The owners, husband and
wife, had retired to this sleepy little town from the West coast.
They bought an old building on the square and carefully restored
it. The old hardwood floors and brick walls were brought back to
their turn-of-the century beauty. The woman, a wonderful cook,
started baking each morning at 4 a.m. Her scones, cinnamon rolls
and Danish were to die for. The coffee was freshly ground each
morning. There was even an antique table at the back where people
could gather for Bible study.
The name of the new place was: “Higher Grounds.” It was patterned
after a fashionable coffee shop in San Francisco. Everything was
established to the letter of the law according to the higher
authorities of fine dining establishments. As might be expected,
many of the crowd from Tina’s shifted their allegiance to Higher
Grounds. Only the farmers in their overalls seemed to stick with
Tina. Folgers from a can was fine with them. Skinny mocha
latte really put them off! But just about everyone else flocked
to Higher Grounds.
Well, everything boomed at the new place for awhile. The wife was
rarely seen. She was always in the back preparing incredible
delicacies. The husband, Steve, ran things out front. It
was obvious he was very proud of his establishment and just a little
condescending from day one to the customers who couldn’t possibly
appreciate this fine place.
It was almost as if when someone walked in the door, Steve mentally put
a black or a white hat on them. For example, all teenagers wore
black hats. You knew they were trouble from the minute they
walked in the door. Anyone who was known to be a Roman Catholic
was suspect. Those who looked a little down-and-out had to be
watched. They probably wanted to buy one cup of coffee and then
sit there all morning. It appeared that the list of black-hat
customers was much longer than the list of white-hat customers.
However, there were some in white hats — members of Steve’s church and
the community leaders wore white hats. They received royal
treatment as other customers were blatantly ignored or were treated
rudely.
I wonder what color hat he put on a Roman Catholic who was also a
community leader? Or a teenager who belonged to his church?
Well, time passed and things began to change. More and more
people called in and ordered take-out from Higher Grounds because those
cinnamon rolls were the best. But somehow it wasn’t quite the
same — taking the goodies home and drinking your own coffee all by
yourself. Slowly, customers began drifting back to Tina’s
Café.
When we visited Clifford’s brother and his wife two weeks ago, Higher
Grounds had been sold and the name had been changed. We ate there
once for lunch. The food wasn’t nearly as good as it had been.
We ate at Tina’s too. The food was just as mediocre as always but
somehow we knew we were wearing white hats. Our waitress beamed
at us. “You’re Jon’s family! “Isn’t he a sweetheart!”
We knew exactly what she meant and we glowed in the opinion she so
freely shared. As we ate our rubbery Wonder Bread toast and our
over-cooked eggs, we felt welcome and accepted. The weak coffee wasn’t
dark roasted, freshly ground, or served in a handsome pottery mug, but
it didn’t matter at all.
What if we only see through a glass darkly now, because the dark fog that often comes from within us clouds our vision?
What if, when we looked at ourselves and others, we didn’t see those
invisible black hats or white hats but instead saw white hats that had
been blackened with those things like envy, pride, anxiety, injustice
and oppression that came forth from us?
What if we believed that every person is born wearing an invisible white hat?
What if we lived to restore everyone’s white hat?
What if we lived to seek reconciliation between all people wearing white hats that had been darkened over time?
What if we lived by the spirit of the law and not the letter of the law?
What if each day we consciously began anew to love our neighbor as
ourselves? What if, when we didn’t do this very well, instead of
putting a black hat on ourselves or on those we blame for our
shortcomings or anyone who crossed our path, we returned to this table
again and again fully conscious of its power to sustain us?
What if we returned to this table each week not just seeking pardon for
things done and left undone, but for renewal deep in our hearts to
begin again?
What if we returned to this table each week not just seeking comfort
and solace, but strength in the armor of God to go back out into the
world to begin again? To love our neighbors as ourselves — both
those we love and those who challenge the limits we put on our love?
What if we returned to this table each week, seeking each and
every time God’s grace so that what comes out of us will not defile us
or anyone else because it has been transformed by God’s love?
What if we prayed today’s collect not just with words read on paper but words grafted in our hearts?
Let us listen once again with all our hearts and minds and souls to that collect:
LORD OF ALL POWER AND MIGHT, the author and giver of all good
things: Graft in our hearts the love of your Name; increase in us
true religion; nourish us with all goodness; and bring forth in us the
fruits of good works; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and
reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever.
The Rev. Betsy Porter
September 3, 2006
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