“Sticks and Stones”

Matthew 15:10-20

August 14, 2005

St. Paul United Methodist Church

Rev. John A. Fleming

I remember when it happened, though I will admit to you that when it did, I was a junior or senior in college and did not watch the news as closely as I do now. Back then, I was more interested in watching Susie and spending any of my spare time with her. We could have televisions in our dormitory rooms back then, but there was no cable. My television was a thirteen inch that only got a couple of stations and so usually I didn’t bother with the news. Besides all of that, when the news came on, at ten o’clock at night, us college students were just getting going, not winding down. So back in those days, I didn’t watch the news. Ted Turner’s Cable News Network was not at my beckon call like it is today.

But still I remember a little bit about what happened off the coast of Alaska on a dark and cold March night back in 1989. Some of you will remember it, too. On that fateful night, the captain of an oil tanker ship, the Exxon Valdez, barked orders at a second mate. Some say that the orders were vague. Some say that the night was too dark. Others say that it was just an accident. But still, the hull of the Valdez struck the Bligh Reef and the result of the collision was disastrous. Only a fifth of the oil from the tanker made its way into the waters of Prince William Sound, but the oil that did spill, some eleven million gallons, took no prisoners. It rushed into the sea. It coated the rocks and the sands of the beaches. It got all over the otters and coated the wings of the sea gulls. Those in the clean up effort did all that they could do, including using high pressure sprays to clean up the mess. The folks in Alaska were irrate. Who could blame them? the folks from the Exxon Corporation were ashamed and embarrassed and humiliated. They felt awful.

Now I will not discount the power of what happened up there in Alaska now some sixteen years ago. By no means am I excusing Exxon from what happened on that dark and cold March night. But the truth is that the eleven million gallons of oil is nothing compared to what spills out of us from time to time. You might even say that what came out of the tanker is mild compared to what comes out of hearts, and yes even our mouths from time to time.

I know that you have been there. Someone did not meet your expectations, and you let them know about it. Perhaps someone’s promise went undelivered, and you told others about it. Maybe you said something that was meant to tease. But you didn’t say it at the right time or in the right way and so instead of a laugh, anger formed in their heart and then came the tears. You did not mean to hurt her feelings. But what you said did just that and now that it has happened, you would do just about anything to make things right. You have had this experience, haven’t you? You have said words that have left your mouth and passed by your ears. When they did, you noticed that something was really wrong with them. You reached out to grab them, but they slipped through your fingers and made their way to someone else’s ears. Wouldn’t it be great if we could pull words back when we know that they are going to do more harm than good?

When I was a kid, I can remember the saying that was often said either on the playground during our recess times or in the neighborhood of my growing up years. You may have been on either side of these words. Say it with me if you know it, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” I cannot remember when I realized that the pain of words lasted a whole lot longer than the bruises that sticks and stones would have left behind.

Jesus, of course, knew the power of words and actions. In our gospel lesson for this morning, we catch up with him and the disciples near the end of a dispute between Jesus and the Pharisees. The Pharisees had sent a delegation to check on Jesus. News of his popularity had made its way to the leaders of the church. When they caught up with the disciples and Jesus, they discovered that the twelve were not following some of the rules that had been in place for years and years. They called these rules the traditions of the elders. There have always been traditions of the elders, a way of doing things that is tried and tested. Right after Susie and I married and moved to Camden, we were leaving home one evening. Most likely we were going to the church or out to eat. We had been doing laundry that afternoon. It wasn’t finished. The washing machine was still running. On our way out the door, Susie reached for the knob on the washing machine and turned it to the off position. When I asked her why she did that, she said, “That is the way that it is done, at least in my house growing up. You can’t leave the washing machine running. If a hose were to break, the house would flood.” I spoke up and defended the ways of the Flemings. I said, “That was not the way things were done at my house. At my house, you could not leave the house with the dryer running. My mother was afraid that the dryer might catch on fire!” So there we were, trying to decide which was worse, the house flooding or it catching on fire. I am pretty sure that we turned off both the washer and the dryer. It was that night that I learned that saying, “That’s not the way my mother would have done it” was not in my best interest.

In the case of the disciples, the tradition that they weren’t following had to do with the washing of their hands before they put any food in their mouths. The tradition was an old one that went back to the priests. Priests were expected to have clean hands before they entered the temple. The idea was that dirty hands had no place in God’s house. Somehow the expectation of clean hands for the priests made their way into clean hands for anyone and it became a tradition, a tradition of the elders.

Jesus wasn’t so concerned about the traditions. He was upset that the Pharisees concentrated on the rules and the regulations instead of things that really mattered. He thought that they were more like blind people leading other blind people. If not one can really see and understand, then both will end up falling in a hole. Jesus wasn’t concerned so much for the rules and the traditions. He wasn’t worried about unclean hands. If you get the message from our lesson today, then you will know that he was more concerned with unclean hearts. Eugene Peterson has paraphrased the Bible in a collection that is called The Message. I like The Message. Not everyone does. It is a paraphrase of the Bible. It takes some liberties. I especially like the way that Eugene Peterson puts part of our lesson for this morning. These are his words, “What comes out of the mouth gets its start from the heart.”

Way before psychologists and therapists were telling us that what came out of our mouths and the actions that we do begin in our souls, Jesus was teaching this. In the days of Jesus, it was believed that the heart was the center of the soul and what came out of it, thoughts, words, and actions, got their start in the heart. So Jesus says that he is not so worried about the hands as he is the heart. “For out of the heart,” says Jesus, “come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, and slander. These are the things that make people unclean. To eat or not to eat with clean hands is neither here nor there.” Jesus is thinking of words. His point is that words reveal what is really inside a person.

Well, I think that I will skip the sermons on evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, and slander this morning if that is all right with all of you. I think that I would prefer to preach just one sermon today and that sermon is on the power of words. What comes out of the mouth gets its start from the heart. You know this as well as I do, words have the ability to build up just as much as they do to tear down. And the words that we say often reveal what is happening in our hearts.

Let me try this with you. Listen to these words and see which ones build up and which ones tear down. I love you. You are important to me. Thank you so much for all that you are doing for me and my family. How can I ever repay you? You look really great today. Have you lost some weight? Is that a new suit? You mean to tell me that you are not a professional model? Great job! Heaven must be missing an angel because I know that there is one standing in front of me. Here is one that I say to Annie Grace, “You are my favorite.” Before she goes to sleep at night, I tell her that I love her and that she is my favorite. If we have another child, I will have to stop doing that. How about some more words? Look out Billy Graham, I just heard the best sermon ever! (That one was for me!). Yes! Wow! Will you be my wife?

Now how about these words? I hate you! You make me sick! You disgust me! I wish that you had never been born! I wouldn’t want my dog to hear that sermon. It’s over. I want a divorce! Here is a line from a country music song, “No one loves you but your mama, and she might be jiving you too.” Now I understand what dark and handsome means. When it’s dark, you are handsome. I don’t ever want to see you again.

Words, strung together letters and syllables that have the ability to build up or to tear down. I think that one of the things that we are guilty of is not uttering words of praise to those that we know and love. I once worked for someone who I thought highly of. I respected him so much. I cared what he thought of my abilities and my gifts and how I used them. It turns out he thought that I was talented and gifted. But he never told me that. He would tell others that he felt that way about me, but he never told me that. Why not?

A few months ago, several of you wrote notes to me on what we came to call Shepherd’s Sunday. It was the Sunday back in April when all of the scripture lessons pointed to shepherding. We read from both the 23^rd Psalm and the tenth chapter of John’s gospel. Someone in the church took the initiative to invite others to write their pastor a personal note. When I returned to my office after the 10:45 worship service, the notes filled the spaces on my desk. And just above my computer screen was a banner made by the second grade class. Written in bright red letters was this, “You Are Loved.” Positive sayings filled the edges of the paper. One of the sayings was this one, “You’re awesome, dude!” The banner is still there. I still have every one of the notes that you all wrote. When things get tough and I get discouraged, I pull those notes out to remind me that I have people who think highly of me.

We are slow to offer those words. We are quick to offer words of criticism. We are hasty in complaining and offering hurtful words. And, says Jesus, we say these words, we do certain things, when our hearts aren’t exactly right. I often encourage people, when they feel that their words are hurtful and harmful, and when they feel that they have little control over what comes out of their mouths, to spend a little more time with Jesus. I have had to follow that advice myself on several occasions. If you are not taking care of your spiritual lives. If you are not spending time in prayer. If you are not asking God to take your life and every part of it, then when a hurtful word comes, you tend to lash out. You tend to be defensive. You tend to beat up instead of building up one another.

Now here is the bad news of this passage. Jesus doesn’t tell us how to clean our hearts. Cleaning our hands, now that is much easier. Maybe we can learn a lesson from the Psalmist, David, who prayed that God would change his heart. In a time when David should have been going off to war, he did some things that got him in trouble with God and so he prayed, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” Maybe that’s not a bad prayer for all of us. Amen.

(Special thanks to Max Lucado for reminding me of the story of the Exxon Valdez).