Rules Are Made for Hypocrites

Luke 13:10-17
August 24, 2025
William G. Carter

Now Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day." But the Lord answered him and said, "You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?" When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.

There was a time when people proclaimed their faith on bumper stickers. We don’t see this much anymore, but not so long ago, it was quite common. Some are scripture verses, like “God is love,” or “Jesus is Lord.” Other are affirmations of faith, like, “Glowing with the Spirit,” or “With God all things are possible.” One of my favorites said this: “1 + 1 + 1 = 1.” The doctrine of the Trinity!

And then there are the other ones, with a bit of snark. “Turn or burn.” There’s no telling how many conversions that prompted. Or this, “In case of rapture, can I have your car?” I confess a bit of jealousy that he asked first. Or this one, “Honk if you love Jesus. Text if you want to meet him.”

And then there was this bumper sticker: “B.I.B.L.E. – Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.” Like other slogans, it is brief, memorable, and aims to make a positive impact. As Christian people, we want to honor the Bible, right? But I find myself pushing against this one for a few different reasons.

First, the purpose of life here on earth is not to prepare for leaving earth. This life matters, too. Most of the Bible’s instruction is here and now: how you treat your neighbors, what to do with your money, how to take care of your body, and how you spend your time. 

Second, does the Bible offer basic instruction? If so, why is it so hard to read? Sometimes the instructions are wrapped in stories, parables, and proverbs. Some of the instructions seem dated: don’t eat lobster, don’t wear clothing of mixed fibers. Some of the instructions are contradictory, like the 26^th chapter of Proverbs. One verse says, “Never answer a fool.” The very next verse is, “Always answer a fool.”[1] Which is it? A basic view is not enough.

What’s more, if the Bible offers instructions, that doesn’t mean anybody will follow them. On page two, God said, “You can eat anything you want in this Garden, except from that tree over there.” By page three, Adam and Eve are chomping into the restricted fruit. Say what we want about obedience – and obeying God is a good thing – yet the Bible teaches how we are prone to disobey. To follow our own way.

Maybe it’s something in the very nature of getting instructions. As the apostle Paul wrote to one of the churches, “I wouldn’t have known what it is to covet, if the law had not said, ‘Thou shalt not covet.’”[2] Coveting? Wanting what others have? I had no clue, until the instructions said, “Don’t do it.” He goes on to confess, “When I want to do what it good, evil lies close at hand.”[3] Something more than a rule is required.

Today’s Gospel story centers around one of the Bible’s basic instructions, namely the keeping of the Sabbath. You remember how it goes. “Six days you shall do all your labor; on the seventh day, you shall rest and not do any work.” On the face of it, that seems clear. Yet the instruction prompts a question that is not so basic: what constitutes “work”?

In the time of Jesus, this was a matter of debate. Is it work to prepare a big Sabbath meal of brisket and roasted potatoes? That depends on who is making the meal. Can we walk to a neighbor’s home for a visit? Yes, as long as it’s no more than three-quarters of a mile. The religious leaders debated all of this. And it was a debate, a thorough conversation, a discussion in pursuit of wisdom. The rule wasn’t enough. You had to figure out how to apply it.

On occasion, the conversation could be quite comical. Clarence Jordan tells about those who pondered if you could run out of the house on the Sabbath if the house was on fire. Yes, of course. But if one of you had a wooden leg, you must leave the leg behind. That would be “carrying wood.”[4]

So, Jesus stopped by the synagogue to teach. It was the Sabbath day. Was teaching the Bible considered working? Nobody seemed to think so. Then he saw a woman who had been bent over for eighteen years. He called over and said, “Lady, it’s time for you to be set free.” He put his hands on her back, she stood up straight for the first time in years, then started praising God.

Over here, the leader of the synagogue was grinding his teeth. “This is the Sabbath of God,” he growled, “not a day for healing.” Because healing is somebody’s work! Now, we understand the rule. But if we take the rule only on the surface, it can be an empty rule. Something more is needed.

Some years ago, somebody invited me to preach at First Presbyterian Church in Naples, Florida. “Bring your jazz band,” they said. Well, it was the middle of January. Who was I to say no? We played a jazzed-up hymn, the people sang along. Right in the middle of the hymn, a man passed out and toppled into the carpeted aisle. Jazz affects people in different ways.

What should we have done? Should we have said, “Band, keep playing, all of us are singing a hymn, it’s the Sabbath”? Or should we have said, “Nobody touch him. It’s the sabbath.” So, stay frozen. Nobody moves. It turns out the deacons did the holy thing. Apparently, this kind of episode happens regularly in Naples, Florida. They called the EMTs. We paused. We prayed for him. The ambulance took him to the ER, checked him out, pronounced him well. Then his wife said, “I’m never going to let you hear jazz in church again.”

I suppose if we were playing it hard and fast, only by the rule, we would be indignant. We’re not working. Let God manage it. Fortunately for that wobbly little Floridian, the Deacons took the more humane approach. That was wisdom. To do nothing would be to put God to the test. To let the bent-over lady keep looking down at her sandals for another eighteen years would be heartless.

“After all,” said Jesus our Lord, “when the Sabbath comes, don’t you take your farm animals to get a drink?” The clear implication is this: isn’t this daughter of Abraham to be held in more esteem than your donkeys?

Wisdom. That’s the ticket. The Bible pushes us to think and wrestle and discuss and act. What if we get it wrong? Then keep thinking, wrestling, discussing, and acting. The God of Life is not going to zap us with lightning bolts if we act like human beings. No, if there is any zapping, it will be for the person who kept all the rules and lost their humanity in the process.

In his recent book, How the Bible Actually Works, Peter Enns says this: 

Watching how the Bible behaves as a book of wisdom rather than a set-in-stone rulebook is more than just a textual curiosity to be noted and set aside. Rather, it models for us the normalcy of seeking the presence of God for ourselves in our here and now.

 

Like that of the biblical writers themselves, our sacred responsibility is to engage faithfully and seriously enough the stories of the past in order to faithfully and seriously reimagine God in our present moment. The Bible doesn’t end that process of reimagination. It promotes it.[5]

Let’s take a cue from Jesus. He interpreted the rules. He didn’t water them down. Sometimes he tightened them up. He knew God has expectations for all of us. Those expectations come through the biblical tradition – yet they must be interpreted by real human beings in real human situations. 

So, there he was, teaching the Bible. That’s what you teach in the synagogue. Over here, there’s a woman so bent over she can’t lift her head. Was he supposed to speak and then split? No, not when he had the ability to heal and the compassion to do so. So, he said, “Daughter of Abraham, stand up tall.” Claim your dignity. Receive your release. The whole crowd cheered. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t we all?

What was he doing? He was interpreting the substance of the Sabbath commandment. The Sabbath was given to us as a gift. Six days, we work. On the seventh, we welcome God’s work within us. As the late Walter Brueggemann used to say, “Sabbath liberates us from Pharoah’s brick factory,” that ceaseless demand to produce and measure up. Sabbath interrupts our desire to over-achieve, over-function, and over-control. It breaks our obsessions. With Sabbath restraint, we give time, space, and room for God to act.

Don’t miss the punchline: all of this is good for us. Sabbath is for our well-being, and for the well-being of others. Like that grownup child of God confined to look at her sandals. Like that uptight synagogue manager who just needs to smile. Like that synagogue crowd, ready to hear the Christ to speak, ready to welcome some joyful, life-affirming good news, whether they hear it – or see it. For God has spoken as Christ has come: for the benefit of all.

Now, can we keep the rules? Maybe. I think of all the families scrambling around, trying to keep all the soccer balls in the air, running from dance lessons to tennis practice to saxophone lessons to sleepovers, all good things. But they are worn out. They go on vacation and come back exhausted. There’s precious little rest.

I think of those, half a generation older. They tell me Sabbath keeping is just not possible. There’s so much to do, so much to manage, so much to keep up with. And today I offer a special prayer for all those who have convinced themselves the house must always be perfect. Bless your hearts. Like that old neighbor of mine who clutched his chest every time a dandelion appeared on his lawn. Let it go, man. God planted that dandelion to get you to lighten up.

Here's how to understand the rules. The apostle Paul told a church of misguided Christians, “God gave us these commandments as a babysitter.”[6] It was good advice for that bunch; they thought they were supposed to circumcise everybody in Turkey. Paul said, “No, no, no. For freedom, Christ has set us free.” The rules were given to guide our lives, so we knew where to start and what to do. They came at the beginning, like the training wheels on a child’s bicycle. They kept us from tipping over. We have never outgrown them.

But now that you’re growing up in the grace of Jesus Christ, let those ancient rules guide us as we create joyful, compassionate lives that give freedom to us and those around us. Stand up as tall as you can. Be merciful to those in front of you. In loving them, let yourself be loved. And if you get straightened out by Jesus, all the better. For that was God’s intention from the beginning.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.

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[1] Proverbs 26:4-5.

[2] Romans 7:7.

[3] Romans 7:21.

[4] Clarance Jordan, The Substance of Faith and Other Cotton Patch Sermons, (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2005) 162.

[5] Peter Enns, How the Bible Actually Works (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2019) 112-113.

[6] Galatians 3:23-29.