The light of Christ reveals the work to be done.
The amazing Scout shirt. It could take anything. From the drive to the campsite, setting up our tents, food and cooking box, building campfires, hiking, playing games – literally everything we’d do except swimming you could do in that shirt. And we did. Even sleeping. Some weekends I’d never take it off.
After a full weekend of camping, cooking, fires and fun, we’d come home.
The shirt was fine. I was not.
Dad, my brother and I would come into the house and see this odd mixture of love and rejection, reunion and repulsion, welcome and disgust, on my mother’s face.
Then I’d go into the bathroom, look in the mirror and realize how dirty I really was. And just a shower wasn’t going to fix it. A regular bath wouldn’t either. I needed a soak and I needed a scrub. And I needed it everywhere – especially around my fingernails, inside my ears, maybe up my nose. Dirt isn’t even the best word for it. Every nook & cranny of my body had this…grime.
And the smell. I never noticed it, but I’m told that adolescent boys can be rather pungent, especially after a weekend in the woods.
That is similar to my experience with Jesus. Not the grime or the smell, but the awareness of them.
While we were out in the woods, doing woodsy things and just us guys, we were fine. We were doing lots of good things, some exceptionally good things. Scouting, after all, teaches all sorts of outdoors skills and along the way builds character. And I suppose I should stipulate here that we were doing – mostly good things.
The Scout law lists 12 points of character that define a Scout. Brave, clean and reverent are among them. Clean. We didn’t keep that up very well on the campouts.
And so goes life without Jesus. People do all sorts of things, mostly good things; some exceptionally good things. But then he comes. He calls you. The blessing of a saving faith in Christ, a life-giving relationship with him, is indeed like coming home.
And you step into the light – his light – and you see yourself reflected in him. And suddenly there’s grime, a thin layer of it everywhere and collections of it in the nooks and crannies.
There is work to be done.
Today’s Gospel is from the Sermon on the Mount. It’s not entirely clear if he’s speaking to a small group of his disciples or the crowds in general. But they are hearing these words as fresh and new. Remember that last week’s Gospel closed with “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” We’re in the next verses. Now he’s describing what that means. Jesus is telling them, “This is what clean really is.”
And he sets the bar rather high. In fact, it seems impossibly high. It is impossibly high. Who among us can honestly say we’re perfect? Yet Jesus says, “Be perfect.” Do you need me to reinforce what Jesus himself said? You want to argue? Argue with him. Do you want me to sweeten this somehow, make it easier to take? As we read on through the rest of the Sermon on the Mount, we find that, yes, it is leavened with grace. As we continue through Matthew’s Gospel and all the Gospels, the New Testament and the rest of scripture, we find that God has indeed reconciled the impossibility of his command for perfection with his eternal love for us with the blood of his only Son. We do, after all, live in the shadow of the cross. We are washed in the waters of baptism.
Today isn’t about that. Today is about stepping into that brilliant light of Christ, looking in his mirror, recognizing the grime and working on it. We cannot dismiss his commands because they are impossible. We cannot dismiss his commands because we’re saved. Jesus said, “Follow me.” This is part of what it means to follow him.
And so whatever issues we may carry, be they on this list or something else, part of what we do here is to attend to that grime. We are here in part to lay our sin before his altar, ask his forgiveness and seek renewal. Lord, help me see it and help me clean it. And if I don’t see it, please reveal it so I can repent of it and you can help me clean it anyway.
And I’ve grown up – some. When I’ve been camping as an adult, especially away from facilities, it’s still woodsy business. But I take soap, biodegradable soap, and wet wipes. I pay a bit more attention to not getting so dirty in the first place. And in just day to day life it’s true as well. Camping, golfing, shopping, exercise, work – the world lays on a layer of grime wherever we go and whatever we do. When I come home, I don’t need to be told by anyone that I need a good wash. Then I’m fit company, and of some use.
Listen for that in the Eucharistic prayer.
Lord God of our Fathers: God of Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob; God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ: Open our
eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us. Deliver
us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace
only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for
renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one
body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the
world in his name.
Bring it all to Jesus. He looks at you, he sees the grime, and he loves you - not just who you are but the you he is shaping for eternity. And it does all come out in the wash.
AMEN