Message:  June 22, 2008 - “De-Nile – It’s a Deep River!” – Matthew 10:24-39

 “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Mt 10:34).

                There is an aspect of the person Jesus that Christians always want to deny – if we really stand up for the things he taught, not every relationship is going to be a warm, fuzzy event, in fact, quite the opposite – even in our own families.  To deny this, is to deny who Jesus was and what his teachings demand of us.

Of course, at first glance some might think Jesus fits right in.  We live in a culture that seems to thrive on anger. We are fed a steady diet of violence from television, movies, video games, and music.  None of us are really immune from the effects of the angry words and furious images that infect every form of media. The words that have come into our everyday language betray this sad truth – a phrase like “road rage.” I heard something on the radio the other day – I cannot vouch for its veracity – but the claim was made that the average driver honks his horn every two days. I think we know that such frequent use of a car horn is not part of effort to avoid accidents. The driver is using the horn to say something, and what is being said is likely not very nice.  In the words of scripture, “We are a people of unclean lips, and we dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” . . . and in the midst of a people of unclean car horns.

                People of faith are hardly immune from a propensity toward violence. The notion of jihad, after all, is a religious concept. In Christian circles, the corresponding doctrine and theology is called “just war,” and in the 2,000-year history of the church, people of faith have regularly justified nationalistic conflicts on religious grounds. A few years ago, a controversy arose about the hymn “Onward Christian Soldiers,” and my own denomination opted to omit it from a new hymnal that was in production at that time. Even if we remove the imagery from hymnals, we still must never deny that we are called to stand for something.  Remember the gospel accounts of Jesus driving money changers from the Temple.  He didn’t walk in and say, “Please, excuse me.  Since you’re ripping off God’s people right here in Temple, would you mind taking this outside?  Please?”  No! He kicked things on the floor and went after them with whips.

                Stories like that are a part of our biblical tradition, as is the text most of us would probably rather wasn’t there, either. Let’s deny it exists.  It’s probably just some parable about another time and place, anyway.  What we see is scripture letting us know that to be a follower of Christ we need to plan on having to stand up for the teachings of Jesus, and that will sometimes cause arguments.  Jesus is saying, “Plan on it! Don’t look so surprised when it happens.  And don’t think there’s something wrong when it happens.” Jesus said he came not to bring peace, but a sword. He calls us to take a stand that is truly radical. Is our conviction strong enough to live it?

                Some years ago, a member of the clergy wrote in one of his books that it took him a long time to realize that being the church of Jesus Christ wasn’t about always being nice and getting along with everyone.  He wrote that in his many years as a church pastor he had noticed that the church seemed to have an unquenchable capacity to spawn petty little fights. Someone’s feelings always seem to be hurt in the church. There always seems to be someone on the verge of leaving. Still, when he looked back on his ministry, it seems to him not that he had not been a part of too many fights in the church, but too few . . . or maybe more accurately, fights that had been too small.

                I’ve had colleagues who’ve told me about people in their churches fighting … really fighting … over things like what color paper the bulletin was printed on.  I’ve heard of people leaving the church because one Sunday carnations were placed on the altar and they thought it should have been roses.  I’ve heard major fights over moving the time of worship.  And I, personally, recall one time when a man left and never came back because he came in one Sunday and a visitor had been allowed to sit in “his” pew.  And of course, there’s the classic that has happened in almost every church that has ever existed – the person who says, if you don’t do it my way, I’ll take my money and leave.  But what was worse in all these situations was that someone in each of those churches went after each of these people and made them feel like their childish actions were okay.  Today’s scripture would scream a loud NO to that.

                I think this text ought to remind us that the church is not called to retreat from the world, and it is not called to cower in the face of the hostility and threats exhibited even by its own members. The church is commissioned to be bold. That boldness may mean that, from time to time, it is called to do battle – on behalf of those who are oppressed, hungry, sick, or in prison. We are called to have such a thirst for justice that it is simply not an option to remain on the sidelines while the large issues of our day are decided. The sword of which Jesus speaks is a metaphor for the passion which we are to have for living God’s way. We may have to answer someday for the things we have done in our lives which broke the peace, but we may also have to answer for the times we allow the peace to be preserved at the cost of justice.

                Denial is a river that runs deep. We can use it to let us off the hook for a lot things. But being the Church Christ has called us to be doesn’t always mean only doing those things that don’t rock the boat.  Sometimes, in order to live the teachings of Christ, it means putting all the cards on the table, letting the chips fall where they may, drawing a line in sand, etc. When we do so, the church comes out stronger. Never deny that the Church of Jesus Christ is called to stand for something …

Message for Sunday, June 8, 2008 In Need of a Physician? –

Texts:  Hosea 5:15-6:6; Romans 4:13-25; Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

 Sometimes I think the Pharisees got a bad rap.  While it's true that they were Jesus' enemies, they had some redeeming qualities.  While it's true that they had a hand in Jesus' death, it’s always important for us to remember there’s more to the story. 

               Take the story of Jesus calling Matthew to be his disciple.  Matthew was a tax collector.  Tax collectors in Jesus' day were in an interesting position.  The Romans had taken over Israel.  Roman soldiers patrolled the streets.  The people hated the soldiers, but someone had to pay them –– and someone had to support the Roman governor in his palace –– and someone had to send a few shekels back to Rome –– so the Romans taxed the Jews to pay for all that. 

                But it was even worse than that.  Rome didn't collect the money directly.  They contracted with local Jews to collect the taxes.  They struck an implicit bargain.  Tax collectors had to raise a certain amount of money and then they could keep everything above that amount.  The results were predictable –– the tax collectors got richer and richer and the people got angrier and angrier.

Tax collectors became social lepers.  People thought of them as traitors and thieves.  They’d “sold out” to Rome.  Tax collectors were banned from the synagogues.

                In our Gospel lesson today, we encounter one of those tax collectors.  His name was Matthew.  He was sitting in his tax booth taking care of business.  Jesus stopped at his booth and said, "Follow me."  In those days, “follow me” didn’t just mean “come here.”  It meant, "Become my disciple."  Now, Matthew hadn’t indicated in any way that he was remotely interested in being Jesus’ disciple.  He hadn’t suggested he wanted to change his ways.  He hadn’t asked for forgiveness.  He hadn’t shown remorse for ripping off his own people.  Jesus just walked up to him and said, "Follow me" –– and Matthew got up –– left his tax booth –– and followed.

                That was a big deal!  When Matthew left his tax booth, he was walking away from a good job and a lot of money. Also, once you walked away from being a tax collector, you didn’t get the job back.  His friends must have thought he was nuts!.

                Then, in the next scene, we see Jesus at table –– we assume it to be in Matthew's house.  Around the table were Matthew's friends –– tax collectors and sinners. 

                In that culture, having dinner with someone implied acceptance ––approval –– friendship.  When the Pharisees saw Jesus sitting at that table, they were appalled.  It was like finding your Sunday school teacher in some notorious bar.  Jesus was a religious leader.  People were looking to him as an example.  How could he sit at table with tax collectors and sinners?

The Pharisees, you see, were the town elders –– the people responsible for public morality.  They could see that Jesus was leading people down the wrong path.  They had seen warning signs earlier ––but now he’d crossed the line.  Jesus was keeping company with tax collectors and sinners.  What kind of effect would that have on people –– especially young people!  What should they do? They concluded that Jesus was a public menace and had to go

Now, if we really think about it, we can sympathize just a little with the Pharisees.  We would be concerned with public morality.  We might see people out there whom we think are leading our young people in the wrong direction and are a potential menace to our society, changing life as we know it.  In those circumstances, we’d probably share that concern.  We might not want them killed, but we’d certainly feel something should be done about it.

                Let me give you an example.  This example comes from Peru, but it could come from California –– or Texas –– or New York –– or Michigan –– or (the name of your town).  This example comes from Henri Nouwen's book, Gracias: A Latin American Journal.  Nouwen was a Catholic priest who paid a visit to Peru and wrote about that experience.  In his book, he tells about riding a bicycle through downtown Cochabamba.  He said:

  "As I biked through town and saw groups of young men loitering around the street corners and waiting for the next movie to start;  as I walked through the bookstores stacked with magazines about violence, sex, and gossip; and as I saw the endless advertisements for unnecessary items imported mostly from Germany and the United States, I had the feeling of being surrounded by powers much greater than myself.  I felt the seductive powers of sin all around me and got a glimpse of the truth that all the horrendous evils which plague our world –– hunger, the nuclear arms race, torture, exploitation, rape, child abuse, and all forms of oppression –– have their small and sometimes unnoticed beginnings in the human heart.  The demon is very patient in the way he goes about his destructive work.  I felt the darkness of the world all around me."

The thing is, he wasn’t talking about riding through “the bad part of town.”   He was talking about movie marquees and magazine racks.  He was talking about ads that whet our appetites for things we don't need.  He’s talking about things we see every day --  glitzy ads that not only leave us with less money, but also with less soul.

                Or maybe we don't see it.  Maybe we have seen that kind of tasteless presentation so often that we no longer see it.  Maybe that kind of advertising has become invisible to us.  Maybe we have blocked them out of our vision and shut them out of our minds.  But we owe it to our society to see it –– and to reveal it for what it is in order to guide people through the maze of life/

                In a very real sense, that's what the Pharisees were trying to do when they started raising questions about Jesus having dinner with tax collectors and sinners.  It makes perfect sense that they would react the way they did.  They were trying to safeguard their community against the kinds of evil that seep in through the nooks and crannies –– the kinds of evil that catch people unawares –– that destroy people's lives. 

But the Pharisees made some mistakes:

Their first mistake was writing off the tax collectors and sinners.  The Pharisees had no love in their hearts for people like that –– in fact, they despised them –– they wanted nothing to do with them –– they had no intention of mixing with them or trying to help them change their lives.

                Their second mistake was ignoring the signs that validated Jesus' ministry –– the power of his teachings –– the lives he was changing –– and the witness of his miracles.  Of course, those were also the things that threatened them.

Their third mistake was failing to recognize the darkness in their own hearts.  They didn’t have the benefit of the book we’ve been reading to tell them to remember that they weren’t the “saved” inviting the “unsaved,” but that we’re all in the process of growing and changing in our relationship with God and we invite others to join us in that process.  They became self-righteous and judgmental –– and self-righteous, judgmental people often do horrendous things.

When the Pharisees raised questions about Jesus having dinner with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus responded: "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.... I have come to call not the righteous but sinners."

                He could have said, "I didn’t come to save the righteous. I came for the ones who know their sinners."  That would have made sense because we all know it's nearly impossible to save a righteous person because righteous people can't imagine that they need saving.  Real sinners know they need forgiveness, know they need to change their ways, know they need God in charge of their life.  I think that’s why the Apostle Paul said “sin boldly.” Be a real sinner, not a fake sinner! If you’re going to do it, do it right! Make it worth God’s time to forgive you! J.

And if we know we’re not perfect and we know we need God in our life, there's hope for our community –– there's hope for our world –– because we won't do what the Pharisees did.  We won't use evil against evil, but will instead dedicate ourselves to shining God's light into the dark corners of our community –– and of our world.   

After all, Jesus told us that we are "the light of the world," and I think it’s just an amazing thing that Jesus thought only acknowledged sinners were the light of the world.  Not pompous little “holier than thous,” but real, acknowledged sinners are the light of the world.  And he told us not to hide our light under a bushel.  Go out there and convince everyone that you’re not perfect.  Now, for some of us that’s easier than others J.  Some of just naturally make it more obvious J.  To me, that means to let people know you’re not perfect.  The “light” that I have to show someone else God, is the fact that I’m not perfect! I can do that!  Not only can we do that, we need to do it because that is in fact how we are saved – the grace of God saying “I love you in spite of the fact that you aren’t perfect.”  Bingo – salvation! Healed by the Great Physician.  A friend of mine who belongs to AA says, “We’re just a group of drunks helping other drunks.”  And that’s what the church is – a bunch of sinners helping other sinners.

                "Those who think they’re well don’t need a physician, only those who know they’re ill."  The best spiritual gift you can give someone is permission and freedom to acknowledge a shared illness and need for God to be the healer.