None of us I’m sure will admit that we are hypocrites. We want to be good. We want to be faithful. We want to do right by God and by others. And we want others to see us that way.
And yet, over time, it can happen that there are small compromises in our faith that we begin to accept — not because they are good, but because they are familiar. And sometimes, because we see it in others, including our elders and those whom we hold in regard, we tolerate it in ourselves.
They don’t shock us anymore. They don’t cause arguments. Everyone seems to live with them. And so, quietly, we live with them too, and remain civil.
In the Gospel of Mark 7:1-13, Jesus notices this kind of quiet drift. He speaks about how people can become very practiced in religion while slowly setting aside what God truly desires. Not through rebellion, but through accommodation.
This is where hypocrisy often hides: not in obvious wrongdoing, but in the things we no longer question. Many years ago, I spoke in various assemblies and retreats in Ligaya about the sins we tolerate. I picked it up from the book entitled “Respectable Sins” by Jerry Bridges. These respectable sins include anxiety, apathy, impatience and irritability, worldliness, discontentment, frustration, unthankfulness, pride, judgmentalism, gossip, envy, etc.
We tolerate gossip, anxiety and worldliness because it feels harmless. We excuse dishonesty, discontentment and envy because it’s common. We ignore resentment, dishonesty because “that’s just how things are.” We avoid hard conversations and tiptoe around holding fellow Christians accountable, in the name of peace and respect.
None of these feel dramatic. None of them seem worth confronting. But slowly, they shape the kind of people, and communities, that we become. What makes this especially challenging is that these are rarely individual choices. They are shared. Unspoken. Almost agreed upon in a civil society, and to some extent even in a Christian community.
And over time, something subtle happens: We stop asking whether something is faithful according to God’s word, we don’t call it out, and start asking only whether it is normal. And we are pressured to respect each other’s choices. And before long, we become what we tolerate.
Today, we observe how Jesus does not point this hypocrisy out to shame or expose. He does it because He loves us too much to let us settle for less than freedom. Quiet compromises may keep things comfortable, but they also keep hearts unchanged. And it grieves Jesus to see good men settle for less than obedience to everything that Jesus has commanded, in the name of conformity, in the name of tradition, in the name of social acceptance.
The good news is that Jesus always begins gently. He doesn’t start by condemning behavior. He starts by inviting honesty. A simple question may be enough for today: “What have I learned to live with that God may be inviting me to heal?”
Jesus doesn’t mean to judge, nor accuse you. But to bring these things into light. If you’re someone who feels distant from faith, this is not a demand, it’s an invitation. God is not waiting for you to be perfect. He’s waiting for you to be real. And if you’ve been walking in faith for a long time, this isn’t a rebuke, it’s a renewal. A chance to let God’s voice be louder than habit.
Our faith was never meant to be about maintaining appearances. It was meant to be about transformation. We need to watch what we are becoming, especially when things seem to be going well. And our standard is not social media, but the Word of God. The transformation may be slow, yes, but if it is honest, then it’s filled with grace, because God loves us more than we deserve.
Perhaps our prayer today is simple: “Lord, show me what I’ve grown used to that You want to make whole. Open my eyes and cast them on Your word, and send me Your Spirit, that I may faithful to Your calling, and obedient to Your will. In Jesus’ name, I pray.”
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