Summary: We have been forgiven in Christ for the sins that we have committed and confessed. But the underlying condition out of which these sins arise - what’s to be done about that?

“Out, damned spot!” may be one of the most widely recognized lines Shakespeare ever wrote. I wonder why? In a more innocent age it might have been for the forbidden thrill of saying “damn.” But of course that doesn’t apply any more, does it. It’s one of the milder epithets available. If that’s the worst you catch your kids coming out with, be grateful.

So why is the line so popular? “Out, damned spot.” Who remembers what play it’s from, or who said it, or what’s going on? I see a gratifying number of nods out there. Anyway, for those of you who’ve forgotten their high school English: it’s said by Lady Macbeth, Act V, Scene 1. Let me set the scene for you. It is night, and we await the arrival of Lady Macbeth, who has been sleepwalking ever since Duncan, the King of Scotland, was murdered in his bed. What the doctor and gentlewoman who watch do not know is that it was Lady Macbeth herself who killed the king, heedless of her husband’s misgivings. They only know that their lady has been sleepwalking, and they are worried. Lady Macbeth enters, carrying a candle.

The doctor says, “What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.” The gentlewoman, who had asked the doctor to watch with her, explains. “It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.”

Lady M: “Yet here’s a spot. Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One; two; why then, ‘tis time to do’t: Hell is murky! - Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard? What have we to fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? ... What, will these hands ne’er be clean? ... Here’s the smell of blood still; all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.”

All the perfumes of Arabia cannot, indeed, cleanse Lady Macbeth’s hand - or her dreams. Because it is not her hand that is stained, but her memory, and her conscience. And it occurred to me to wonder, as I was studying today’s Scripture, if the popularity of this quotation does not have something to do with recognition of a universal human condition. Is there anyone among us who has not occasionally wished for the power to wash away an action, or a memory?

But of course Lady Macbeth is stuck with her ceaseless midnight washings, because she is hiding from her conscience.

The Pharisees’ handwashing is not a perfect parallel to Lady Macbeth’s, of course. And yet all the washing in the world will not clean them, either, though the busy-ness of their religious activity allows them to pretend that it works.

I don’t want to give the Pharisees too bad a rap, though - because they meant well. They were struggling to impose their vision of morality and obedience to the law on Israel. Maintaining purity was a key item on their agenda. Their standards of purity were designed to promote the smooth running of a holy community.

Let me give you some background on this. This word “aniptos” or “unwashed” doesn’t have anything to do with hygiene. (Kids, don’t use this passage as an excuse to come to the table unwashed.) The word also means public, or common, as opposed to “set apart” or “holy,” dedicated to God. And holiness was an important part of the Pharisees whole program. What they wanted was to make holiness - that is, access to God - available to all the people, not just to the priests, the special elite. They had much in common with the reformers of Luther and Calvin’s day. And so they took the Levitical rules which applied only to the priests, and tweaked the system so that it could be used by the common folk as well. It might have been difficult to follow all the rules, but it was possible.

The broadening of access to God wasn’t the only motivation behind the development of these traditions. Another, equally important, was to deter pagan influences from eroding the purity of Judaism itself. The system encouraged people to make a conscious effort to set themselves apart from the unwashed (read unenlightened) hordes who were destined for destruction. Actions such as washing hands were tangible, positive gestures that displayed who was on God’s side and who wasn’t.

Also important was establishing the illusion of order, of control. The Pharisees believed that God created order, and that human affairs prosper only when things are ordered. But not only was order objectively good, it was also comforting. In a world where so little could be controlled, being able to control access to God in the humble, everyday acts of life was something to cling to. When the psalmist said that you must have clean hands and a pure heart to approach God, the rabbis could explain how you could pass the test.

But the rules stood for more than just control. They stood for awe, reverence, and mindfulness of God’s holy presence, and they gave people something concrete they could actually do to prove their devotion to God.

There are a lot of parallels between the Pharisees and modern Christian communities. We also have an oral tradition, which fills the gaps between Christianity’s broad behavioral guidelines. These traditions try to honor God by discerning the proper application of Scripture; they try to give clear answers to the people of God so that we can know what we are supposed to do, how we are supposed to live.

But the traditions are not Scripture. One of the earmarks of reformed theology is our commitment to test our traditions regularly against Scripture. The phrase that gets tossed about in theological circles is “semper reformanda,” or “always reforming.” It’s occasionally used, I think, as an excuse to scrap traditions which don’t fit contemporary culture, and that is not legitimate; but it is necessary to reevaluate our traditions to make sure they haven’t overtaken the Word of God in importance. [Examples: wearing hats to church, playing - or not playing - musical instruments for services].

Another thing that Christian communities do is stress a particular doctrine or behavior to reinforce their distinct identity as a people set apart. And this is not all bad, by any means. We do need clarity of both doctrine and practice to guard against corruption. But it is one thing to value distinctives as a reminder to ourselves to whom we belong; it is quite another to use them as a barrier to keep people out.

So before we are too hard on the Pharisees let us remember that God did create order, and that it is good. Let us remember that traditions are helpful, and not to be rejected without cause. And let us by all means be as passionate about holiness as they were. And let us remember that what they tried to do - namely make access to God available to all people - was Jesus’ goal as well.

The big difference is that Jesus was able to make God accessible to everyone even without practicing all the rules. Not only that, but he showed that too many rules could even become a hindrance to truly following God.

You see, the more time you spend on ritual purity, the less time you have to focus on moral purity. Like Lady Macbeth’s, the Pharisees’ hand-washing symbolized purity, but didn’t achieve it. Their rules encouraged the illusion that people could please God under their own power. Their rules encouraged smugness and complacency. And their rules encouraged people in a sort of spiritual isolationism, focused on their own spiritual standing, rather than being concerned with caring for others.

And Jesus shocked the socks off the Pharisees when he pointed this out to them. His blunt answer is perfectly understandable in the light of their rudeness. If they really only wanted to know the answer to their question, they could have asked him privately, after class, so to speak. But what they did was try to shame him in public; it was something like having guests from another denomination interrupt the worship service to demand why you haven’t taught the people to kneel for prayers. Calling them “hypocrites” was a fairly mild response under the circumstances. These Pharisees didn’t deserve the patient, private lesson Jesus gave his disciples later on.

But then Jesus seemingly goes on to challenge even the very dietary laws themselves - which are in Scripture. I thought he was holding up the authority of Scripture? What’s going on here?

Every translation I’m aware of is misleading on this point. The original Greek does not say, “Thus he declared all foods clean.” The Greek literally says, “cleansing all foods.” It is just as likely, if not more so, that what Jesus is saying in verse 19 is that the process of elimination treats all foods alike. You may be surprised to hear that excrement - although it may be offensive - is not ritually unclean. Other passages in Scripture deal with dietary laws, but not this one. Jesus does not say that following Biblical standards is meaningless. He’s saying that the Pharisees have their priorities backwards.

The real issue is what people are like on the inside. The real issue is the condition of the human heart. And remember that in Scripture the heart doesn’t mean emotions or feelings. In New Testament Greek times feelings came from the stomach, the guts. The heart was where decisions got made, the center of the will, of the identity. With that in mind, let’s look at the next part of today’s text:

"Hear me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things which come out are what defile.…" For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person."

Come on! There are a lot of things outside a person that can defile. And I’m not just talking about E Coli and the common cold here. What about the trash that passes for entertainment on TV and in our movie theaters? What about the cultural pollution of relativism? What about peer pressure and advertising and all the other social and economic incentives out there that encourage us to ignore God? These things come from outside and they DO TOO defile. What is Jesus talking about here?

Let’s look at the list. There are 13 items. Most commentators agree that the first one, “evil intentions,” is a general term that Jesus then illustrates with specifics. Intentions definitely originate from within - even though the spark might have come from somewhere else, it is the will that consents to it. We are responsible for what we choose do, and we are responsible for what we choose think about.

The next 6 words are plurals in Greek, though not in our translation, suggesting specific, individual acts, the kinds of things one might in fact contemplate and then carry out: “fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness.”

The last 6 items represent qualities rather than actions, and they are inborn in all of us to one extent or another: “deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly.” From the moment Cain said “Who, me?” when queried by God about the whereabouts of his brother Abel, deception - especially self-deception - has been a core human trait. As the prophet Jeremiah said, “The heart is devious above all else; who can understand it?" And licentiousness - also lewdness, carnality, lustfulness - all words for sexual indulgence. It’s certainly helped along by our culture - as is envy or covetousness. But who made our materialistic, self-indulgent culture, if not human beings bereft of the moral underpinnings of the word of God? This list belongs to us as well. It is part of our common heritage as fallen human beings. And we cannot get rid of it simply by going through the motions of religious practice. It is possible to show up every Sunday, to tithe, even to study Scripture, and yet leave these internal stains completely untouched.

“What, will these hands ne’er be clean? ... Here’s the smell of blood still; all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.”

For the sins that we have committed, even sins as ugly as Lady Macbeth’s, we have been given forgiveness, bought for all time by Jesus on the cross and renewed to each of us whenever we confess our sins. But for the underlying condition out of which these sins arise - what’s to be done about that? What of the pride and self-will and ambition that let her to murder? All the perfumes of Arabia will not mask or sweeten the true state of our hearts.

Even Paul quailed at the magnitude of the task. In Romans 7 he writes,

“I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good that I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.... Wretched man that I am, who will rescue me from this body of death?”

And isn’t that the truth? How many of us, when tired or taken off guard, haven’t responded to someone or something with anger - or envy - or lust - or blame? How many of us can say that what flows naturally from within our hearts is innocent, pure, naturally pleasing to God? If there’s anybody here who can, I’d like to get your autograph.

We are not, however, without help. God has granted us forgiveness through Jesus Christ, he has given us Scripture, and he has sent us the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit has been sent to us, as Jesus promised the night before he was killed, to live within us, to remind us of the truth, to strengthen us in our weakness, and to transform us into the likeness of Jesus Christ. Our part is to “set our minds on the things of the Spirit,” not just on Sundays, but the other six days of the week as well. Our part is to be willing to let the Spirit open God’s Word to us, so that we may be willing first to hear and then to act on what God is trying to say to us. Our part is to submit ourselves to God, humbly, and ask for help.

We can’t, under our own steam, clean out our own hearts and minds and present them to God for approval. We can’t so much as see into the corners without the light of Christ to shine within us. But if we let him, as Peter reluctantly allowed Jesus to wash his feet at the Last Supper, Jesus will wash us as well. In place of the works of the flesh listed in Mark 7, Romans 8, Galatians 5, Ephesians 4, and throughout the entire record of human history, by the power of the Holy Spirit we will slowly be transplanted with the fruits of the spirit.

Superficial religiosity, self-made holiness, breeds pride and builds walls. True religion, genuine Spirit-fed holiness, comes from humility and submission to God and breeds love, joy, and peace. Let the Spirit of God clean out your hearts. You’ll be amazed how good it feels.