A reflection on Matthew 15: 10-14 and the posture we bring to one another
Gospel Reading
Matthew 15:1-2,10-14
NRSV
“Then Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem and said, ‘Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? For they do not wash their hands before they eat.’ Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, ‘Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.’ Then the disciples approached and said to him, ‘Do you know that the Pharisees took offence when they heard what you said?’ He answered, ‘Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit.’”
The scripture reading from Matthew 15 is not an easy passage to sit with, yet its difficulty is precisely what makes it so revealing. What strikes me first is the deliberate intention of the Pharisees and scribes who travelled all the way from Jerusalem to meet Jesus. Their journey was not casual. They came with purpose, and that purpose was not to learn, listen, or witness the good unfolding around Jesus. Instead, they arrived ready to scrutinise, ready to find fault, ready to confirm their suspicions about him.
From the moment they encountered Jesus, their attention fixed on a minor detail: the disciples were eating without washing their hands. This small ritual omission became their entire focus. They were not interested in the healings, the restored dignity, the miracles, or the hope Jesus was awakening in the people. They were blind to the life-giving impact he was having on Judaism itself. Their energy was directed toward policing, not perceiving; toward judgement, not gratitude.
Rather than debating them or defending himself, Jesus turned to the crowd and spoke about the deeper truth: it is not what enters the mouth that defiles, but what comes out of it. Our words reveal the landscape of our hearts. The Pharisees’ words were not words of blessing or recognition. They were not words of thanks or praise. Their words diminished, divided, and distorted. They were words shaped by suspicion rather than love.
This contrast brings me back to gratitude. A stance of gratitude builds others up. It softens, clarifies, and heals. Gratitude sees goodness rather than threat. The Pharisees’ posture was the opposite. Their words could never lift anyone; they could only defile. Even when Jesus spoke truth, they responded by taking offence, using their offence as a tool to create further division. They chose to escalate rather than understand.
Jesus’ response to this was simple and profound: he advised his disciples to leave them alone. Not out of dismissal, but out of clarity. He recognised that their attitude belonged to a different spirit, one that could not overpower the power of love. Their rigidity, their offence, their fixation on fault—none of it had authority over the freedom Jesus embodied.
In this passage, Jesus models a different way of being. He shows that love does not need to argue with fear. Gratitude does not need to justify itself to suspicion. Truth does not need to wrestle with distortion. Instead, it simply continues its work—quietly, steadily, and with unwavering clarity.