Pharisees

Ah, how the heart is bent towards self-righteousness! Even criminals look down on other criminals. That's what happened in a strange story from Spain. According to the First Thoughts blog a 64-year-old man in the city of Jaén reported a home burglary. The victim, who happened to coach a youth soccer team, listed several electronic appliances as stolen.

Days later, police received an anonymous call from a payphone. It was the burglar, informing them that he had left three videotapes in a brown envelope under a parked car. Apparently, the stolen tapes were evidence that the soccer coach was also a criminal. The thief included a note stating that he wanted the police to do their job and "put that (expletive) in prison for life." Nine days after the burglary, the police arrested the soccer coach.

The article concludes: "There is a well-worn adage that evangelism is one beggar telling another where to find bread. (But) so often, I live out my Christian faith more like a criminal telling the cops where to find the crooks. This should not be. When I find myself picking up the phone to report that others have fallen short, may I instead speak the words of another thief: When you come into your kingdom, remember me (Luke 23:42).

When Duke Energy officials got to the bottom of the power outage, nature was to blame. It wasn’t wind or rain, or thunder or earthquakes … or even, as is sometimes the case, human nature. Like Adam and Eve in the Garden, it started with a snake.

A snake got into the electrical equipment in a local substation, which ended up causing an electrical fire that created the outage. By 10am that morning, more than 1,400 people had lost power.

Duke Energy Spokesperson Jeff Brooks said,

This is one of the reasons we are making electric grid improvements in the region. We often think of storms and trees which are the leading cause of outages, but other items like cars hitting utility poles and snakes and squirrels getting into equipment also cause a number of outages for electric utilities. That’s why it’s so important we make these improvements to strengthen our electric grid and protect it from a variety of disruptions.

Power in the region was restored later that day.

Possible Preaching Angle:

All it takes is one agent of sin and destruction to bring dishonor and harm to many in the community. The same is true in the spiritual community. The “ancient serpent” brings havoc and harm to the entire world.

In 2013, New York City narcotics agents announced an unusual indictment of five Brooklyn men. These types of indictments are, unfortunately, commonplace in metropolitan areas like New York, but this one did stand out.

The men who were charged were members of a Sabbath-observant drug ring. Though cavalier about New York’s drug laws, the group was scrupulous about observing the Sabbath. Text messages from members of the gang show them alerting their clientele of their weekly sundown-to-sunset hiatus.

Text messages, used as evidence against the group, included group chats to clients, “We are closing 7:30 on the dot and we will reopen Saturday 8:15 so if u need anything you have 45 mins to get what you want." The name of the NYPD sting operation that led to the drug bust: "Only After Sundown."

It's hard to imagine that anything literally hanging from utility poles across Manhattan could be considered "hidden." But throughout the borough, about 18 miles of translucent wire stretches around the skyline, and most people have likely never noticed. It's called an eruv (pronounced “ay-rube”) and its existence is thanks to the Jewish Sabbath.

On the Sabbath, which is viewed as a day of rest, observant Jewish people aren't allowed to carry anything—books, groceries, even children—outside the home (doing so is considered "work"). The eruv encircles much of Manhattan, acting as a symbolic boundary that turns the very public streets of the city into a private space, much like one's own home. This allows people to freely communicate and socialize on the Sabbath—and carry whatever they please—without having to worry about breaking Jewish law.

As the writer Sharonne Cohen explains, eruvin were created by “the sages of the Talmud” to get around traditional prohibitions on carrying “house keys, prayer books, canes or walkers, and even children who cannot walk on their own.” New York City isn't the only metropolis in the US with an eruv. They are also in St. Louis, Atlanta, Baltimore, Chicago, Dallas, and numerous other cities across the country.

A cynic might wonder at the effort required to string wire around huge swaths of public space, in order to allow adherents of a religion to do what the tenets of that religion would otherwise prohibit. Even some religiously-minded observers might find it hard to imagine a God that wouldn’t regard this as the flagrant concoction of a city-sized loophole.

Possible Preaching Angle:

1) Excuses; Rationalization - We might shake our heads to think that anyone could believe that they could get around God’s law using this scheme. But in retrospect, aren’t we guilty of the same thing when we push the boundaries and think that we can get away with finding a loophole in God’s laws when we sin? 2) Jewish People; Law; Sabbath - As a positive illustration, this might be a loophole but at least this story shows how seriously our Jewish friends take their commitment to honor the Sabbath.

Rabbi Adam Mintz, co-president of the Manhattan eruv, talks more about it in this video.

So of all things, Christianity isn't supposed to be about gathering up the good people (shiny! happy! squeaky clean!) and excluding the bad people (frightening! alien! repulsive!) for the very simple reason that there aren't any good people … This goes flat contrary to the predominant image of [Christianity] existing in prissy, fastidious little enclaves, far from life's messier zones and inclined to get all "judgmental" about them. Of course there are Christians like that … The religion certainly can slip into being a club or a cozy affinity group or a wall against the world. But it isn't supposed to be. What it's supposed to be is a league of the guilty.

A Michigan judge handed down an unusual ruling. Judge Raymond Voet has a clearly posted policy in his courtroom that electronic devices causing a disturbance during court sessions will result in the owner being cited with contempt of court. He usually imposes a fine of $25 on top of that. But on a Friday afternoon in April 2013 he enforced that policy on himself. During the prosecutor's closing argument, the judge's smartphone, which was in his shirt pocket, loudly requested that Voet give the phone voice commands for voice dialing.

Voet said, "I'm guessing I bumped it. It started talking really loud, saying 'I can't understand you.' My face got as red as a beet." Voet tried to turn it off, but the phone kept talking and creating a disturbance.

Voet added, "I set the bar high, because cell phones are a distraction and there is very serious business going on. The courtroom is a special place in the community, and it needs more respect than that. I tow a tough line, and I got to back it up this afternoon."

At the next recess, Voet held himself in contempt of court, fined himself $25. Later on, Voet said, "Judges are humans. They're not above the rules. I broke the rule and I have to live by it." Voet paid the fine immediately.

Like most of us, John Burke (pastor of Gateway Church in Austin, Texas) assumed that he was not a judgmental person. But just in case he was wrong, he tried an experiment: for a whole week he kept track of his judgments about other people. Here's what he discovered:

Judging [others] is fun! Judging others makes you feel good, and I'm not sure I've gone a single day without this sin. In any given week, I might condemn my son numerous times for a messy room; judge my daughter for being moody—which especially bothers me when I'm being moody (but I have a good reason!) …. even my dog gets the hammer of condemnation for his bad breath ….

Some of you may be thinking, "Wait, are you saying that correcting my kids for a messy room is judging?" NO! But there's correction that values with mercy and there's correction that devalues with judgment.

I watch the news and condemn those "idiotic people" who do such things. Most reality TV shows are full of people I can judge as sinful, ignorant, stupid, arrogant, or childish. I get in my car and drive and find a host of inept drivers who should have flunked their driving test—and I throw in a little condemnation on our Department of Public Safety for good measure! At the store, I complain to myself about the lack of organization that makes it impossible to find what I'm looking for, all the while being tortured with Muzak—who picks that music anyway? I stand in the shortest line, which I judge is way too long because—"LOOK PEOPLE—it says '10 items or less,' and 1 count more than that in three of your baskets—what's wrong with you people?" And why can't that teenage checker—what IS she wearing?—focus and work so we can get out of here?

Judging is our favorite pastime, if we're honest—but we're not! We're great at judging the world around us by standards we would highly resent being held to! Judging makes us feel good because it puts us in a better light than others.

In June, 2011, the city of Alemeda, California, immediately changed its policies after first responders stood by and watched a man drown in San Francisco Bay. The first responders didn't venture into the muddy waters of the bay, even as the suicidal man started treading water and then eventually went under.

According to Michael D'Orazi, the Interim Fire Chief for Alemeda, two things prevented authorities from taking action: First, because it was a crime scene, the police "felt that going into the water initially might not be the best idea because they were unsure if this individual was armed." Secondly, D'Orazi also said, "There was a policy in place that pretty much precluded our people from entering the water." The firefighters "were incredibly frustrated by this whole situation [because] they wanted to get in, they wanted to take action."

Local officials also noted that due to a lack of funding, firefighters had no one properly trained to go into the water. The Alemeda Interim Police Chief was also quoted to say, "It's muddy out there. We don't want [the police officers] sinking. We don't want them in distress."

Fortunately, the policies were changed only a few days after this incident.

In an episode of the History Channel's reality show about a Las Vegas pawn shop, a man brought in a violin and asked for an appraisal. According to the man's story, he had recently purchased a piece of property that included a house and a barn. Shortly after his purchase, while inspecting the barn, he opened an old chest and discovered the violin safely tucked inside. As he dusted off the near-perfect instrument, he found the word "Stradivarius" clearly inscribed on the violin. The man was hoping the "Stradivarius" was worth millions of dollars.

However, after the pawn store owners examined the violin and then also had it appraised by an expert, they told the man it wasn't a genuine Stradivarius. Instead, it was a cheap imitation produced in the early part of the 1900s, worth around five or six hundred dollars. The appraiser concluded by telling the crestfallen violin owner, "Just because something has a label doesn't mean it's real."

Let's suppose that on your way to work each morning, you usually stop at a Starbucks. You tend to get to the store at the same time each morning, and you usually see a young girl who gets there about the same time you do. On many mornings you find yourselves standing next to each other in line. In fact, you both order the same thing—double espresso with skim milk.

She seems to be into the gothic culture—black hair, black clothes, knee-high jackboots, black fingernails, black lipstick, piercings in the nose, lips, ears, and eyebrows, and scattered tattoos. She usually has a backpack that she has to take off to get her money, and sometimes it seems hard for her to hold the backpack, get the money, and pay for the coffee all at the same time.

She doesn't make too much eye contact with others. You wonder whether you should strike up a conversation with her—maybe offer to hold her backpack while she pays. You're not sure what to do with the whole gothic bit, and you don't know whether she'd give you a dark look and not say anything.

Should you try to be friendly? Maybe find out what brings you both to the same Starbucks each morning? See if she ever tries any of the other specialty coffees? Move toward greeting her each morning? Learn about other parts of her life? Yes! By all means! Move into her world. Make a comment one day about how the barista probably already knows both of your orders as soon as you walk in the door. Offer to hold her backpack while she pays. A couple of days later, tell her your name and ask for hers. If she misses a few days, tell her you hope she wasn't sick the next time you see her.

Why move into her world? Because with the eyes of a doctor, you see a hurt that God can heal. You see an anger and alienation. Maybe it's because of sexual abuse from a stepfather, a brother, or an old boyfriend. But you see the heaviness, the sadness. With the eyes of a doctor, you see a hurt that God can heal.

There's a man at work that everybody shakes their head at. He's been divorced a couple of times, and both of his ex-wives are suing him for past child support. He's a deadbeat dad—way behind on his support, sending them just a little bit, every so often. He's been living with another woman and her small child, but a couple of weeks ago, he slapped her around pretty hard. She called the cops, he spent a couple nights in jail, and she kicked him out and now has a restraining order against him. He's currently living in one of the cheap motels that rents by the month.

Every day at lunch, he goes out by himself to get a hamburger or a burrito, always coming back with mustard or chili on his shirt. Nobody talks very much to him, because he's too quick to complain about how everybody's taking advantage of him, everybody's pushing his buttons, everybody's squeezing him dry. Who wants to listen to that?

You've often wondered about being nice and offering to go to lunch with him. You like the same fast food he does—Burger King and Taco Bell and Subway. And you know Subway has a sale going on—three foot-long sandwiches for $10. You couldn't possibly eat that much, but it seems like a shame not to take advantage of such a bargain.

Should you invite him along one day? Yes! By all means! Move into his world. Go to lunch with him. When you get to Subway and you both sit down with your sandwiches and chips and drinks, ask him if he's watched any of the baseball playoffs. Who's he rooting for in the World Series? Mention that it's been just about the worst umpiring you've ever seen.

Why move into his world? Because with the eyes of a doctor, you see a hurt that God can heal. You see a bitterness at life, failing at relationships, blaming others instead of knowing how to change himself. You sense his fear of the future—no money, a criminal record on the books—and his desperation over being all alone in the world. With the eyes of a doctor, you see a hurt that God can heal.

Your company has a co-ed softball team that competes in the city league, and they're looking for a couple of extra players. You like softball. You like the feel of connecting on a pitch, running down a fly ball, making a clothesline throw on one hop to home plate to nail a runner trying to score. The first game is next Tuesday, and they're pushing you to join them.

But you're not sure. You like softball, but you don't know about playing with the people in the office. You went to a company picnic a couple of months ago, where there was a pickup softball game, and some of the guys were drinking a lot of beer, getting pretty raunchy in their comments about some of the women on the other team. Some of the wives of your coworkers were loud-mouthed, and they flirted with other husbands. The parents yelled mean things at their children but did nothing to control them. And in the parking lot, one of the married men from the office who had come to the picnic by himself was behind his pickup truck going at it pretty heavy with one of the single moms in the office. Do you want to deal with all that every week? Should you join the team? Yes! By all means! Move into their world. Get to the park, shag those balls, and run those bases. Bring some Cokes to put in with their beers. When one of the women on the other team lines it into a gap between center and left for a stand-up double, instead of questioning her sexual preference, shout out, "Great hit! Did you play in college?" Buy a cheap glove for the single mom's kid, ask if he wants to be batboy, have him sit beside you on the bench, and teach him the strategies of the game.

Why move into their world? Because with the eyes of a doctor, you see their hurts that God can heal. You see that the machismo and the raunchiness merely disguise insecurity and failure. You see marriages where there's no love and children that don't have the security of boundaries. You see the single mom's loneliness and vulnerability that puts her at risk of being deeply hurt. With the eyes of a doctor, you see the hurts that God can heal.

In life we can have the eyes of a judge or we can have the eyes of a doctor. The eyes of a judge see a gothic girl, a deadbeat dad, and a foul-mouthed team, leave us thinking, Why have anything to do with them? The eyes of a doctor see the hurts that God can heal.

One of the more popular TV ads during the 2010 Super Bowl was sponsored by Audi and takes a poke at the imaginary "green police" out of control.

Standing at the checkout counter of a store, the clerk tells a customer: "Okay, so it's $37.08. Paper or plastic?"

The customer replies, "Plastic."

Into the scene walks a uniformed officer who says, "That's the magic word. Green police. You picked the wrong day to mess with the ecosystem, plastic boy." The officer then hauls the customer away with his hands in cuffs behind his back.

In quick succession we see different scenes of the green police arresting other people guilty of minor environmental infractions.

Green police line the side of a suburban street sifting through garbage cans at the curb. An officer finds a battery in the garbage. An officer in charge yells, "Let's go. Take the house."

A man stands at his kitchen sink at night with an orange rind in hand. Suddenly a searchlight blazes through the window upon him and a green policeman orders over a loudspeaker: "Put the rind down, sir! That's a compost infraction." The man puts the rind down and runs away into the darkness.

A green policeman stands on the brightly lit porch of a comfortable looking suburban home. When the homeowner walks onto the porch, the officer asks, "Did you install these bulbs?" When the homeowner says yeah, he is hauled away to a waiting squad car, and a TV reporter speaks into the camera, "Tragedy strikes tonight where a man has just been arrested for possession of an incandescent light bulb."

A green policeman busts two teenagers for drinking from plastic bottles.

As green policeman surround a man and woman in a hot tub, one of the officers announces, "The water setting is at 105," and the couple is arrested.

The commercial ends with a green policeman busting two real police officers in a squad car. The green policeman asks the real cop, "Are those Styrofoam cups you're drinking from?" The cop says yeah, and the green policeman responds, "Please step out of the car and put 'em on the hood."

In this ad, the problem with the green police is that they are pursuing a good thing—a healthy environment—in an extreme way. They are well meaning, but overzealous.

So it is with legalists. While some are motivated by a Pharisaical spirit, others are pursuing a very good thing—purity and holiness—but they are doing it to an extreme. They police the actions of others in behaviors that the Bible says nothing specifically about. While the Bible does call the leaders of the church to exercise church discipline with regard to certain actions that are clearly named in Scripture, legalists want to raise the bar and also enforce their extra-biblical standards on others.

Muckraking is not gospel work. Witch-hunting is not gospel work. Shaming the outcast is not gospel work. Forgiving sin is gospel work.

— Eugene Peterson, U.S. pastor, scholar, author, and poet (1932—2018)

When our children were young, my husband and I decided we wouldn't watch R-rated movies. We wouldn't allow our children to watch them, so we decided that to watch them ourselves would be confusing to them. We made this decision in good conscience and never regretted it. I found, however, that it made me feel judgmental toward other parents who watched R-rated movies. I began to feel they weren't fully committed to Christ because they watched things I'd decided not to watch.

Even as I write this, I realize how ridiculous it is to judge someone's relationship with God by what rating of movies he or she watches, but it was so subtle at the time. Since it was a sacrificial commitment for me, I instinctively evaluated other people's spiritual dedication when they talked about the latest movie they'd watched. As I made this judgment, I never thought about my own sin or all the things that person was doing right. Instead, I focused on this one thing I thought they were doing wrong.

The ability to see sin in others and ignore it in your own heart is one of the distinguishing characteristics of a Pharisee, and being a Pharisee is so easy. It's great to make rules to guide our own behavior, but when we extend those rules to everyone around us, we're in danger of becoming pharisaical.