Deacon Tam Tran

HABIT & RITUAL

“There is nothing outside a person that by going into him can defile him. But the things that come out of a person are what defile him” - (Mark 7:15)
“This people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” - (Isaiah 29:13)

A grandmother once watched her two grandchildren—an energetic 8-year-old granddaughter and a fearless 6-year-old grandson—play outside the way children are supposed to play. Their hands were constantly busy: picking flowers, chasing ants, holding corn husks, crumbling dead leaves into mysterious powders. By the time lunch or dinner rolled around, their hands looked like they had personally tilled the Garden of Eden.

And then came the daily battle.
“Time to wash your hands!”

Suddenly, the children transformed into expert negotiators. “But I barely touched anything.” “My hands aren’t that dirty.” “Can’t I just wipe them on my pants?” Every excuse imaginable appeared, as if resistance to handwashing were an Olympic sport. The grandmother knew better.

Washing hands before eating was non-negotiable. It was practical. Sensible. Healthy. Dirty hands could make you sick.

Now, fast forward a few thousand years, and a similar argument is happening—only this time, it’s not between a grandmother and her grandchildren. It’s between Jesus and the Pharisees.

In the Gospel, the Pharisees and scribes notice that some of Jesus’ disciples are eating without washing their hands. To them, this isn’t just bad hygiene; it’s a religious scandal. They confront Jesus, clearly offended, perhaps even a little horrified. How could a teacher of God allow such behavior?

But instead of agreeing with them—or gently reminding His disciples to wash up—Jesus gets upset. Really upset.

Why?

To understand Jesus’ reaction, it helps to understand the difference between a habit and a ritual.

A habit is something you decide once and then do forever without thinking about it again. The first time someone eats a donut after the 9 a.m. Mass, it’s a decision. The forty-fifth time? It just happens. No thought required. Habits run on autopilot. They are comfortable, familiar, and often unquestioned.

A ritual, however, is different. A ritual asks for attention. It wakes the brain up. It’s usually handed down from somewhere else—family, culture, religion—and it carries meaning beyond the action itself. When people sit down to eat turkey on Thanksgiving, it’s not because turkey is everyone’s favorite food. It’s because the ritual says, “This meal means something.” When someone makes the sign of the cross before praying, it’s not magic. It’s memory. It’s grounding. It does not make your prayer better or more effective.

Rituals are meant to point beyond themselves.

The problem in today’s Gospel is not that the Pharisees wash their hands. Jesus is not anti-soap.

The problem is that they have taken a practical habit and inflated it into a sacred ritual—one that they believe makes them right with God.

The ritual of handwashing before meals was not found in the Torah. It was an extra rule, built over time, added by religious leaders. And slowly, quietly, it became a test of holiness. If you washed your hands the “right” way, you were clean before God. If you didn’t, you were defiled.

The Pharisees believed that defilement came from the outside. Bad people. Bad places. Bad food. Stay away from those things, perform the rituals correctly, and you could remain pure. Religion, to them, became a system of separation and self-protection.

Jesus completely dismantles that idea.

“There is nothing outside a person that by going into him can defile him,” Jesus says. “But the things that come out of a person are what defile him” (Mark 7:15).

In other words, dirt on your hands doesn’t make your heart dirty.

Jesus points out something very practical: the body knows what to do with food. What’s useful stays. What isn’t gets flushed away. But the heart—now that’s a different story. Pride, jealousy, greed, cruelty, self-righteousness—those things don’t come from dirty hands or unwashed food.

They come from within.

And here’s the irony: while the Pharisees looked spotless on the outside, their behavior revealed what was going on inside. Their treatment of Jesus and others exposed hearts full of judgment and arrogance. Later, Jesus would call them “whitewashed tombs”—clean and shiny on the outside, but full of decay within (see Matthew 23:27).

Their religion had become self-worship. They trusted more in their rule-keeping than in God’s mercy. They honored God with their lips, but their hearts were far away. That’s why Jesus quotes Isaiah: “This people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isaiah 29:13).

Rituals, Jesus teaches, are not bad—but rituals without faith are empty. A person can attend every service, follow every rule, perform every gesture perfectly, and still miss God entirely.

Unbelievers can look devout. Faith, not flawless ritual, is what cleans the heart.

The uncomfortable truth is that it’s much easier to wash hands than to change hearts. It’s easier to follow rules than to surrender pride. It’s easier to look holy than to be humble.

And before anyone points fingers at the Pharisees, Jesus gently turns the mirror toward everyone else. Week after week, people often spend far more time preparing their appearance for church than preparing their hearts. Rituals meant to lead people to God can quietly replace God Himself.

The wisdom of the Gospel is simple and freeing: God cares most about the inside. Clean hands are good. Clean hearts are better.

God values not the outward only, but more importantly the inward. Jesus wants His people to honor Him with their hearts – not some silly ritual.