Pentecost 15B/Proper 17 (Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23)

Jesus' statement on defilement is paradoxical in two ways. It is both pessimistic and optimistic: “...there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.” “All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”

Why pessimistic? Jesus presupposes that a person generates from within what defiles oneself, and that evil traits are inherent. It sounds as though there’s nothing good inside! If we push this further, what defiles the world is not found without but within. While this certainly presents a pessimistic view of human nature, it is one we recognize. We don’t need to look far to find examples. We can easily hear stories about what Jesus lists as defilements: “fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly.” These are the topics that capture people’s attention, and there are those who profit from them.

Why optimistic? Well, doesn’t he also teach and proclaim that the kingdom of God or the presence of God is within? Where is this “within”? It’s the same “within” that defiles a person. How can Jesus claim that what defiles and what purifies can coexist? How can a person who creates defilement within experience the presence of God? Can these two contradictory experiences coexist? This is not a rhetorical question, and the answer is again, paradoxically, yes! Jesus’ good news is not just about God’s availability but God’s hope for humanity. In this sense, it’s very optimistic.

The heart of Jesus’ teaching this morning is actually much simpler than the dichotomy I’ve intentionally created. His message is loud and clear: our mind has the ability to either defile or purify—not just the mind itself but also the world. The purified mind embodies the kingdom of God, whereas the defiled mind harms people and adds to existing hostilities. Jesus’ teaching is demanding in that we’re not just passive observers but active participants in our own minds and in what’s happening in the world. This, in turn, calls us to the sacred task of cultivating the mind.

This cultivation of the mind requires us to be in touch with our own thoughts. When we begin to sit in silence, we notice the mind is far from quiet. All kinds of thoughts, feelings, and mental images arise—not just about what so-and-so said about us, but also funny images from our favorite TV shows, or that corny stereotypical Asian joke that Paul shared in his homily about Asian parents being upset that hepatitis B isn’t an A. Suddenly, we’re distracted from looking into our mind. In this sense, a simple phrase like “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy,” or “The womb of God, be my home,” or even focusing on the breath is crucial as an anchor for the mind. Our mind may wander, but the anchor can hold us back.

As we concentrate more deeply, we begin to see the desire underlying the workings of the mind. This desire is neutral; it’s more like the innate striving of any living being to continue to exist and sustain itself. Where we direct this striving is key. For this striving to lead us to the presence of God, we need traffic lights, stop and yield signs, and lane boundaries. The Ten Commandments function as these symbols, preventing us from crashing into one another. If we allow this striving to go unchecked—as if there were no signs, no lanes, no rules—we will move further away from peace. Don’t get me wrong, it may be fun, but it will be costly and won’t guarantee long-term happiness or joy.

So, my friends in Christ, you are indeed in charge of your mind, and you’re not alone. The guiding spirit (or breath) of God is always within you. The question is, what are you going to do with it?