“You are like unseen graves over which people unknowingly walk.” Those words are from today’s Gospel selection from Luke. It was an amazing turn of phrase as Jesus confronts the Pharisees, yet I don’t ever recall having really considered it before. My copy of the New American Bible helpfully tells me that “contact with the dead or with human bones or graves . . . brought ritual impurity. Jesus presents the Pharisees as those who insidiously lead others astray through their seeming attention to the law.” Oooh . . . that’s good!
The Pharisees prided themselves on their strict observation of Jewish law, believing themselves to be superior because of their adherence to it. Yet Jesus chided them yesterday because “although you cleanse the outside of the cup and the dish, inside you are filled with plunder and evil.” In other words, their outside seeming “holiness” does not match their inner hearts. In today’s continuation of that Gospel selection, Jesus calls out the effect of their actions on others, likening them to unseen graves that taint other insidiously. So, how can someone appearing to adhere to God’s laws and commandments have the effect of tainting those around?
Think back to times in your life when you’ve been interested in a topic, hobby, or field of study. Have you ever encountered someone who was so devoted to doing it right that they managed to squelch any interest you? Let’s say you started cooking, and the person who was trying to “help” you just kept yelling at you about everything you were doing wrong: The heat’s too high! You’re not stirring it enough! You’re stirring too much! You’re stirring too aggressively! You added that ingredient too soon! You chopped that vegetable too finely! You bought the wrong type of that ingredient! . . . How long would it take for you to never be interested in cooking again?
Or perhaps – again, as a neophyte cook – you went to a chef who was textbook perfect. Sure, he insists, you can make soup by tossing veggies and meat into a pot with some water, but it’s so much better if you sear the meat first, and cut the vegetables in such a perfect way, and used only the finest stock, and let it simmer for 16 hours for maximum flavor, stirring every 20 minutes to make it delectable . . . How likely would you be to say, “Forget that; it’s not worth the trouble!”
I’ve had many instances in my life when I’ve had nascent interests crushed by someone who was too enthusiastic, too anxious to tell me I was doing it wrong, too anxious to tell me every tip ever for how to do the thing perfectly.
I’ve even witnessed a couple of these instances within the Catholic Church. A few years after I converted to the faith, I once had a hard time leading a rosary for a group – even though there was a need and no other volunteers – because I felt the eyes of the more-experienced prayers peering at me, as if eager to jump on my mistakes. Perhaps it was my imagination. Perhaps it was my memory of judgmental words I’d heard from them (or others like them) in similar circumstances. Perhaps it was the lack of encouragement from them, or any like them. In Biblical study, I’ve seen more than one person so eager to demonstrate their superior understanding of Sacred Scripture that they were quick to pounce on anyone they disagreed with.
How many would-be newcomers to the faith have been driven away because their early encounters are with those exhibiting the aura of the Pharisees, putting their need to show how correct their faith is, and how purely they adhere to it?
Obviously, this doesn’t mean we should be incorrect in our faith, teachings, or beliefs. But we should remember that our faith, tradition, and teachings are designed to bring us closer to Christ. And we can be correct while still being loving and supportive. As an example, if you have a Catholic friend who says she doesn’t go to Church every Sunday, how do you reply? Saying something like “You blockhead! You’re going to hell!” probably won’t send her scurrying back to the pew; it’ll probably just steel her resolve to stay away. If, instead, you say, “That’s interesting! So, what keeps you from coming each week?” If she’s struggling with her faith, maybe talk to and encourage her, or suggest she see a priest. If she’s too busy, maybe relay an anecdote about how busy you are, and describe how refreshing it is to have an hour a week devoted to yourself and the Lord. If she’s too concerned that her young child will be too noisy or fussy, remind her that her child has every right to be at church as well . . . and we’d better be welcoming if we’re going to call ourselves “pro-life”!
Today’s first reading puts it excellently with posing the question: “Do you think you will escape God’s judgement?” Ideally, adherence to the law should give us room for our hearts to grow in peace, love, patience, and those other fruit, in the same way that Lenten sacrifice is supposed to remind us of the contemplation and sacrifice that Jesus endured before Good Friday. If we view these rules and sacrifices as an end to themselves, we risk tainting those around us with our superficial piety, “like unseen graves over which people unknowingly walk.”