27 February 2024 Matthew 23:1-12
So what exactly is the religion of the Scribes and the Pharisees? What was it like to be a Jew like they were Jews? Their descendants can give a little insight.
There is an 18-mile wire surrounding the borough of Manhattan. It is clear fishing line attached to posts surrounding the city, from First Street to 126th. It is called an eruv. It is the only thing that allows observant Jews to go outside on the Sabbath, help ailing parents get medical care, or even lift their children. It allows them to keep the Law of Moses in a changing world.
The concept of the eruv goes back over 2000 years. The years after the Jewish Exile (597-538 B.C.) saw vastly increased seriousness about keeping the Law of Moses in every moment and decision of life. The Law said no work on the Sabbath, so care was taken to determine the most expansive and punctilious definition of “work.” The Law forbade carrying any objects outside the home, even if the object was a child, or an invalid who needed some fresh air. That counted as “work.” The Law also said, however, that carrying things behind a fence was allowable, even if that fence was as small as a wire between houses. As families moved farther apart making help harder to come by, and obtaining necessities of life increasingly meant access to commerce, the eruv was adapted to include wider areas. Like downtowns, like the borough of Manhattan.
To some it may appear that the eruv is just a dodge to get around the clear meaning of the Law, but to get around the Law all you need to do is ignore it. A more accurate way to understand eruv is as an adjustment to the Law made for times that were not anticipated by those who first wrote it. It was, and is, a way to affirm, not escape, Jewish identity in ways that recognize changed circumstances, and deeper understanding of human needs. It is, in short, a way to love God with all we have, and our neighbors as ourselves.
Maintaining Manhattan’s eruv is expensive and time-consuming. On Thursdays at dawn, a day before Sabbath begins, a rabbi drives around the perimeter of the eruv to make sure it is intact. Invariably there are some breaks, and a cherry picker is called in. The rabbi goes up and fixes the broken fishing line, every week, every year. It costs about $150,000 annually to maintain the Manhattan eruv, an amount raised entirely by donations.
It takes a lot of work not to work on the Sabbath.
It is a matter of pride for New York Jews that their eruv has never been down on the Sabbath. Ever. That is how serious Manhattan Jews are about maintaining their identity with integrity, ingenuity, and love of neighbor.
That is the religion of the Scribes and Pharisees alive today. There are still people being Jews like they were Jews. There are still people being as careful as they possibly can to live the Law of God, adjusting their understanding wisely and faithfully, applying it with creativity, compassion and great care.
We could use a few more Catholics like that.
Jesus recognized and called out the Scribes and Pharisees for many and various abuses (cf. all of Matthew 23), but he also recognized that some of them were getting some things entirely right. It was a Pharisee who gave Jesus what is perhaps the most well-known directions for getting to heaven: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27). Even Jesus had nothing to add to that, saying only, “Do this, and you will live” (10:28). At Jesus’ trial the Scribes and Pharisees argued all night. There couldn’t have been a fight like that unless some of the Scribes and Pharisees were on Jesus’ side. There were some good ones, some very good ones.
We can learn a little about how Catholics should be Catholics by looking a little more carefully at how the Scribes and Pharisees were Jews.
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