Community Church Sermons
June 5, 2005
Matthew 9:9-13, 18 – 26
If you were to spend a day with Jesus, how do you think it would go?
When I was a child, I used to think that it would be so awesome to have been one of the disciples – witnessing Jesus’ miracles – walking on the water, multiplying the fishes and loaves, healing the sick. It has sometimes occurred to me that it would be much easier to believe if you could see with your own eyes the mighty works of Jesus, and hear with your own ears his teachings.
A day in the life of Jesus! What a thrill it would be!
Or would it?
Maybe we think of Jesus and his life the same way we think of celebrities - like Paris Hilton. Oh, to be rich and beautiful! Did you hear that Paris Hilton’s latest fiancé – whose name also happens to be Paris – presented her with not one, but two engagement rings? They’re each worth millions of dollars! Paris – the girl - couldn’t choose between the two rings, so Paris – the boy - said, “Keep them both!” Oh, some people just lead charmed lives – at least on the surface.
But you know what often happens. Some respectable news organization -like the National Enquirer- reveals the other non-public side of their lives – and its often riddled with sad and disappointing things. And you and I stand in the express lane at Wal-Mart holding up the line while we read the screaming headlines and gasp at the latest scandal!
Or maybe we think of Jesus like some used to think about one of our male Stephen Ministers. During the training class, he was the only guy among a whole bunch of women. And while we practiced the listening techniques and all the interrelational aspects of Stephen Ministry, several of the group members sort of sighed longingly and said, “He is so sensitive! I wish my husband was as sensitive as him!”
Well, a while later, I ran into this Stephen Minister’s wife and told her about her husband’s fan club. I said, “You know, the women in our class think your husband is really HOT!”
She put a little knowing smile on her face and said, “Well, they can have him!”
I guess she knows things the rest of us don’t!
Could it be that we think of Jesus this way, too – through the filter of distant and romanticized idealism? Could it be possible that we are quick to see the big, dramatic, Cecil B. DeMille special effects of Jesus’ life, and not the everyday nitty-gritty details?
I mean, at the end of his three year long ministry, some of the people closest to him ended up saying the same thing our Stephen Minister’s wife said, “You can have him. He’s yours.” That’s what they said to the Romans - who killed him, you know.
What do you suppose they saw – those who lived each day in the life of Jesus – that made them want to do something terrible like that?
My guess is that they became disillusioned when they realized that Jesus’ days were less filled with miracles than with a certain problem he had.
Did you know that the Gospels record fewer than forty miraculous moments in Jesus’ life? Less than forty! Jesus had nothing on some of the modern miracle-workers you see on cable television these days. My goodness, they pull off forty miracles in the twenty-five minutes before the financial appeal each week. Jesus lived for about 33-years. His ministry lasted just3-years - about 1,095 days. That calculates out to less than one miracle a month. You couldn’t raise enough money to buy air time with that kind of record! Of course, we don’t know how the miracles were distributed, or if there were others that are not recorded in the Gospels. All we know is that the Gospels don’t give the miracles of Jesus a whole lot of prominence.
What the Gospels DO report mostly about is Jesus’ “problem.” Did you know that? Why, just in the few verses of our reading today from Matthew 9, there are no less than three stories reporting on Jesus’ problem. I haven’t counted them all up, but there are probably more Gospel stories about this problem than there are about the miracles.
Do you know what the problem is?
Well, it’s an eating disorder – of sorts.
Listen to the question of the
religious leaders in today’s reading from Matthew 9: “Why does he eat with
tax collectors and sinners?”
Jesus had an eating disorder. And it was a bigger problem than just what Jesus did at suppertime. It included Jesus’ propensity for associating with all the wrong kinds of people who usually ended up over at his place ordering pizza, or over at their houses eating chicken and dumplings. Actually, its not the food that’s the problem. It’s the people.
“Why does he eat with tax
collectors and sinners?”
There’s no doubt about it: if you were to spend a day in the life of Jesus, you would get upset too. The very people you despise the most would be the very people gathered at his table. And I don’t know about you, but that’s not very comfortable for me.
The other day, we held a memorial service for Martin Karg. Martin died last week at the age of twenty. Eight years ago this week, Martin stood at this very altar and accepted Christ as his Savior. On Friday, we stood at the altar, trying to come to grips with his tragic and untimely death. Some may say that Martin did not keep his promises to God, but I think they have it all wrong. The testimony of our faith is not that people keep their promises to God, but that God keeps his promises to people! All we can do at a time like this is to trust that God keeps his promises to Martin.
Martin’s sister Candace and fiancée Miranda put together a CD of Martin’s favorite music. It wasn’t the kind of music we usually play in church. It wasn’t the kind of music you play in your Lexus on the way home from church either. It was the kind of music that makes many of us shake our heads. But it was the kind of music appreciated by kids like Martin and his friends – who came into church not dressed like we are, not looking like we do, and not exactly on the same page with us in terms of lifestyle. Some may have felt uncomfortable with such tax collectors and sinners.
Martin’s sister and fiancée asked me if I thought it was okay to play that kind of music in church. Well, I suspect it isn’t okay because it’s not the 18th-century Northern European marching music that American Protestants seem to think Jesus and the disciples used to sing around the campfire. And it isn’t Southern Gospel either, or Contemporary Praise music. Some people might object to head-banging music like that But I told them to go ahead and play it anyways. It’s the kind of music Jesus would’ve had blasting through the boombox when his off-beat non-religious, alternative lifestyle friends came over to the house for dinner.
“Why does he eat with tax collectors, and sinners, and kids like this?”
If you were to spend a day in the life of Jesus, do you think you could stand the music – let alone the deficiencies of the people he welcomed? Jesus had an eating disorder. Everybody knew about it.
It seems to me that the reason the Gospels tell more stories of the sinners Jesus ate with than even the miracles Jesus performed is because our salvation depends to a large extent upon us finding out where we belong in the story of Jesus.
Are we among those on the outside looking in who can only ask why Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners? Or are we at table among the tax collectors and sinners ourselves?
Will Willimon writes this lengthy, but provocative story:
“I stand at the front door of the church. It is Sunday. I like to stand here and watch people entering the church. What do they hope to find here? What force has drawn them to this place at an untimely hour of the week? They are different colors, differing social classes, driven from different places around the city, driven here by all sorts of different needs. What unites them?
Sinners come into
the church. Some are still in their mother’s arms. Sleeping, they come, but not
of their own volition. They look innocent enough, but they are still sinners.
Though outwardly
cuddly and cute, they are among the most narcissistic and self-centered in the
congregation. When they wake up, they will cry out, not caring that the rest of
us are about important religious business. When they are hungry, they will
demand to be fed – now. They neither feel nor accept responsibility for anyone
or anything, other than their own desires. Sinners coming into the church, being
brought here, not knowing they are sinners, but sinners still the same, not
even knowing they are here. Cute, bundled up, placidly sleeping or peevishly
screaming – sinners.
Sinners come to
church. They are being led by the hand. They do not come willingly. Though they
put up a fight an hour ago, a rule is a rule, and there they are. They have
said that they hate church…But here they are, sullen, determined not to get
anything out of it. They will endure the hour, but all the while will mutter to
themselves that they will never put their children through this when they are
grown up and have children of their own…Ten years old they are, and they lack
experience and expertise in so many areas of life, but in one area of life they
are masters. They are sinners.
Sinners come into
the church – sullen, slouched, downcast eyes. Out with friends last night until
a late hour, the incongruity between here in the morning and there last night
is striking. They know it, and it is only one of the reasons why they do not
want to be here…more self-aware of their sin than they have been at any other
time of their lives. Deep, dark sin. Thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Desire. Carnal
thoughts. Things you are not supposed to think about. These thoughts make these
sinners very uncomfortable at church. Despite their best efforts to distance
themselves from this gathering, see how well they fit in at fourteen.
Sinners come into
the church. They are in college. Breaking away, but not completely. They are
thinking new thoughts, thoughts beyond youthful hormones, doubting thoughts,
calling into question what they once were taught and once believed. Shocking.
Maybe they don’t believe. Maybe this is all a sham, a farce and a bunch of
religious hooey. Maybe. Maybe they shouldn’t be here. Are they lying? They may
lie, but not about this. They are, despite their newfound freedom, slaves,
sinners.
Sinners come to
church, and they have put on some weight, middle-aged, receding hairlines,
“showing some age.” They are holding on tight. Well-dressed, attempting to look
very respectable, proper. Youthful indiscretions tucked away, put behind them,
does anybody here know? Too many hours billed at the firm. A couple of things
tucked away from the gaze of the IRS. A night that wasn’t supposed to happen
two conventions ago. These sinners are looking over their shoulders.
They are having
trouble keeping things together. These sinners have large mortgages, big
responsibilities, growing anxiety, and nearly grown-up kids who won’t do right.
There are lots of bills to pay, and many expectations of others to be
fulfilled. Maybe that is why there are so many sinners here, maybe they are a
majority, these middle of the road, middle aged sinners.
Sinners come in
the door of the church. Some of them are walking slowly, beginning to stoop.
They didn’t obey the doctor, and now they are paying for it. These sinners are
no longer committing the sin of ambition. Theirs are more often the sins of
despair, disappointment, resentment, and unfulfilled expectations. And as they
settle down into the church pew, they gaze with a mixture of affection and
scorn at the younger sinners…
Sinners wearing
shoes made in sweatshops by children, making them complicit just by the clothes
they wear… Sinners who have lied, cheated, and stole. And sinners who have
never lied, never cheated, never stolen, and feel so very good about their
goodness. Sinners who don’t lie, don’t cheat, don’t steal, whose only sins are
those of pride, smugness and self-righteousness – all sinners.
Sinners come in the church. The doors at last are closed…The organ begins to play, played by an extremely talented, incredibly gifted artist who is also a sinner…Sinners come into church, and now the chief of them all, the sinner most richly dressed, most covered up, the one who leads, who does most of the talking. Some call him pastor, others preacher, but he knows these titles are purely honorific…Down deep, his primary designation is none other than those he serves. Sinners come into the church…”
Will Willimon gathers us ALL together, doesn’t he? And I hope you’ll notice where he gathers us. In the church. At the table. Right here where Jesus comes among us, breaks bread, pours wine and says, “Come and eat.”
And we are faced with the most important question of all: Where do I find myself in this picture? On the outside looking in and asking, “Why does he eat with those tax collectors and sinners?”
Or right here on the inside – in the church – at the table - among all the other sinners?
You don’t have to wonder what it would be like to spend a day in the life of Jesus, because today is such a day. And where you find yourself within this day will make all the difference in how you live your life, how you treat others, how you impact the world – and how you experience Jesus.
Today IS a day in the life of
Jesus. And today Jesus says to you and me, “Come and eat!”