Great Is “My” Faithfulness

Matthew 12:1-14

At that time Jesus went through the grain fields on the Sabbath; his disciples were hungry, and they began to pluck heads of grain and to eat. When the Pharisees saw it, they said to him, “Look, your disciples are doing what is not lawful to do on the Sabbath.” He said to them, “Have you not read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? How he entered the house of God, and they ate the bread of the Presence, which it was not lawful for him or his companions to eat, but only for the priests? Or have you not read in the law that on the Sabbath the priests in the temple break the Sabbath and yet are guiltless? I tell you, something greater than the temple is here. But if you had known what this means, ‘I desire mercy and not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the guiltless. For the Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath.”

He left that place and entered their synagogue; a man was there with a withered hand, and they asked him, “Is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath?” so that they might accuse him. He said to them, “Suppose one of you has only one sheep and it falls into a pit on the Sabbath; will you not lay hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.” Then he said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and it was restored, as sound as the other. But the Pharisees went out and conspired against him, how to destroy him.

Sermon

So here we are, Jesus and his disciples plucking grain, and the Pharisees, a bit perturbed. If you or I were at home, and our Bibles opened up to this passage, we might be tempted to read it as two separate stories — we might think one’s about Jesus’ divinity, and the other was about the value of human life.

But we’d miss out on something important here. Because what is the overarching conflict here? Is it Jesus’ brazenness? Is it about the need for sabbath rest?

Well, let’s start with the grain and the first argument. And believe it or not, the Pharisees are probably right. Jesus and his disciples were working. There isn’t a lot of gray area on this, and to be honest, it would be tough to back into some sort of justification. Nope. Jesus and his disciples were working on the sabbath.

Then we turn toward the second argument with this healing. We hear from the Gospel writer that this is a trap for Jesus. However, Jesus does something remarkable: he sets not just one trap of his own, but he sets two traps for the Pharisees in return.

The first is his story of a sheep. In offering this story, Jesus beats the Pharisees at their own game, fencing them in with his rhetorical and interpretive skill. That is pretty straightforward. The second trap isn’t as obvious, and rests in how Jesus heals this man. Because unlike other healings, Jesus doesn’t touch the man. He doesn’t wipe mud on the fella, or breathe on him, or gently unfold the man’s hand. All he does is speak. And speaking most certainly cannot be called work.

And what do the Pharisees do anyway? Despite Jesus doing nothing more than speaking? They “conspired against him… to destroy him.”

But we should be careful not to jump to demonizing these Pharisees. Because why do the Pharisees care about religious law? They are concerned with the righteousness and faithfulness of their people. The Pharisees are here to ensure that their people are following the law and prophets, and obeying what God commanded. In this regard, they have a shared purpose with Jesus. They are on the same team, in some ways. The conflict isn’t a desire for faithfulness, but a conflict over how we are faithful.

So… we have our Bibles open, and we were wondering what the issue really is in this story, and we finally get some insight. In reading these stories together we see that this is an argument about what makes people faithful.

Flash forward two millennia and we are still having this argument.

When spending time with folks who have stepped away from Christianity, I have heard a similar story a few times now. It’s a little different of a story, each time but there’s a general rhyme to them. It goes like this:

The person usually grew up in the church, or had regular experiences in it. They may have gone to Sunday school a few times, or visited with their grandparents, or maybe they were hook-line-and-sinker, going so far as to be confirmed.

And they enter into adulthood, their life gets busier, and they find it really hard to come to church. A lot of times, it’s because they have a kid or two, and with all the running around, church attendance becomes implausible.

At some point, they make it back to church, with or without their kids. It might be at Christmas or Easter, or it might be more regular once everyone’s in school.

Inevitably, an older member of the congregation—and yes, it is almost always an older member—comes up to them. No matter how faithful this younger adult or this parent is, right on cue, there’s a passive aggressive comment. 

“You know, it’s really important that your kids grow up in the church.” Or “Why haven’t we been seeing you much these days? Don’t you want your kids to grow up the same way you did?” “Oh… I guess you’ve just been too busy for church and other things are more important to you.”

Sometimes it’s not even directly addressed to them. “You know, young parents these days… things just aren’t what they used to be. People used to care about church. Sports are everywhere, and I guess no one puts faith or family first.”

Far too often, comments like those can be the nail in the coffin.

Or maybe someone shows up to their church in crisis, needing a little hand with utilities, and all of a sudden, poof. The church vanishes.

I have a hunch that these are glimpses of today’s scene with Jesus. Deep down, they’re questions about what it means to be faithful.

For some, putting your butt in a pew every Sunday is what it means to be faithful. Showing up physically is what makes someone faithful to God and a church. It may not be what you want, it may not be conducive to your faith, but by golly, it is what it means to be a Christian. In this understanding, faithfulness is in part doing what God wants, not what you want. Someone shows up, because God shows up.

For others, that could not be further from faithfulness. For someone else, being faithful might be rooted in doing good outside these walls. Or maybe faithfulness is rooted in mirroring the perfect love of God for their children. For these folks, church is a place we return to when our gas tanks are empty. We fill up when we need to, go back into our lives, and do the Lord’s work out there until we find ourselves on low again. Church is a home base to leap off of, not the final destination.

So whatever the case, this question about faithfulness is crucial to living as the church. 

This question of “what is faithful” also has a challenge for us: We have to let go of our white-knuckled grip on the belief that what we think is faithful is the only right way to be faithful. This is tough, because our understanding of faithfulness is rooted in our age, gender, race, socioeconomic status, religious history, and politics. What one generation believed was faithful is almost never what the future generations believe is faithful.

So here we are, two thousand years later, still plucking grain on the sabbath. There is a way of life in front of us, and a way of stagnation in front of us. 

Will we continue to argue about what it means to show up for God? Will we still give into the temptation to appoint ourselves the guardians of faithfulness?

Or will we instead give into the invitation Jesus extends in this story? The invitation to let go of being right, and instead be curious. This more excellent way asks us to consider those who stir up judgment in our hearts — the one who hasn't been in a pew in three years, the one whose faith looks different than mine, the one in the bleachers who shows their kid God’s love on Sunday morning. And once we see that person—that person we’re tempted to accuse of impiety—we are invited to ask a question with genuine wonder: what are you teaching me about faithfulness?

Because when we do that, something remarkable happens. We stop fencing people out. We start finding God in places we never thought to look. And the fields — those wide, abundant, grain-filled fields — turn out to be far larger than any of us imagined.

That’s the kingdom of heaven. With you, and me, and all those people we don’t see, or don’t notice. And this kingdom and its harvest is growing ripe each and every day.

Sources

“Commentary on Luke 6:1-16,” Elisabeth Johnson, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/lord-of-the-sabbath/commentary-on-luke-61-16