When we read of Jesus’ face-offs with religious authorities, our attitude toward the Pharisees can easily move from indignation to righteous indignation to self-righteous indignation. Let’s take a breath. Veneration of the sabbath was not some crazy, corrupt idea of the Temple elite. I mean, it’s in the Ten Commandments. I live in New York City and our United Methodist congregation runs a shelter for homeless women in partnership with a neighboring synagogue. When we have fellowship activities, I attend Friday evening services. I never cease to be impressed by Jewish observance of Shabbat, which doesn’t even begin to address its value in bringing holy balance to our lives. And since Jesus and his fellow Jews lived under occupation by a foreign, pagan empire, maintaining customs became even more important. We can stipulate that sabbath observance is and was good.
So let’s consider the man who, other than Jesus, is the primary character in this story. His hand is withered, useless. He’s caught up with this itinerant rabbi who’s famous as a healer. He believes Jesus can cure him. Sure, Jesus could delay until Havdalah (the end of Shabbat). But this man is afraid to wait. There’s no guarantee he’ll cross paths with Jesus again. He can’t miss his chance. If one of the Pharisees had spoken with this man, he might come to a different conclusion. I suspect Jesus’ anger stems more from their ignoring the man—their hardness of heart—than from their religious legalism.
When we meet each other one-on-one and swap our personal stories, our insights evolve, as many in the United States learned in the journey toward marriage equality. Institutional thinking wields power, except when compared with human relationship.