Göttinger Predigten im Internet
ed. by U. Nembach, J. Neukirch

The 3 rd Sunday after Pentecost, 5. June 2005
Sermon on Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26 by Luke Bouman

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Matthew 9:9 As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, "Follow me." And he got up and followed him. 10 And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with him and his disciples. 11 When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" 12 But when he heard this, he said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. 13 Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners."

18 While he was saying these things to them, suddenly a leader of the synagogue came in and knelt before him, saying, "My daughter has just died; but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live." 19 And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. 20 Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, 21 for she said to herself, "If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well." 22 Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, "Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well." And instantly the woman was made well. 23 When Jesus came to the leader's house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, 24 he said, "Go away; for the girl is not dead but sleeping." And they laughed at him. 25 But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. 26 And the report of this spread throughout that district.

Those of no consequence

Everyone knows of people who do not seem to matter. We are aware that children die of starvation and disease in many places in the world, even perhaps in our own cities and towns, but we do not know most of them personally. We see people in our daily walks all the time, but we do not know them. Whatever their stories might be, they do not seem to matter to us. They are unknown, and for the most part will remain that way. Only the most extroverted of us will strike up a conversation with these total strangers. The rest of us will, perhaps write them off as not very important. The reality is that we do not know for sure if other people matter in the world that is so large and complex that we find ourselves struggling for meaning. What may be just as clear is that most of us do not know if WE matter. We exist from day to day and wonder whether anyone out there thinks of us as important, or even meaningful; anyone outside of our own loved ones anyway.

It is our world, really, that reinforces such an opinion. We read, daily, about another corporate layoff. The economics are simple, really. Drive your employees hard, and when they begin to lose productivity due to exhaustion, dump them out on the street so that you can use another employee up. The model of “employee as a consumable” in corporate America certainly says that who we are does not matter. The way that wars have been waged, since before any of us were born, says the same. Some historians claim that the reason the Northern States won the civil war was not a tactical advantage. Rather it was the fact that we had more foot soldiers to throw into the fray in an extended war of attrition. The goal counted, not the individual soldier. And it seems that the world has grown comfortable with a certain number of its population consigned to die of disease or malnutrition, though medicine, food and the means to deliver these things has existed for many years to end the injustice done to those who are not as “important” in the world as citizens of the developed nations. We live in a world where there most certainly are people who do not seem to matter.

What we recognize is that the landscape has not much changed since the days that Jesus walked the earth. He too encountered people whom the world labeled as inconsequential. Matthew was important in his own right as a tax collector. With a Roman soldier on either side he had the right to enforce the taxes and the means to skim a bit off the top for himself. But to his own people he would have been a traitor, a disgrace to his family (who were forced to disown him) and he certainly would not have been welcome in a synagogue or yeshiva school. In fact, the rules of collaboration were strict. Those who attended to the taxes of the infidel occupation army were considered as dead. This “shunning” would have rendered Matthew a non person in first century Israel.

Next we encounter a leader of the synagogue (Mark and Luke name him Jairus, but Matthew glosses over the details of this story). His daughter has died. As only a father could, he searches for someone who might be able to help him. But in the first century, one would ask, why? Boys were sought after children. Girls could be bartered as brides, especially if from upstanding families, but otherwise were a liability in the ancient family. Women were not even considered people, but property to be bought and sold. Death may have been kinder to most female children than the hard short lives most would endure. Certainly this girl, already dead, is of no consequence to anyone but her father (and I assume her mother).

And in the middle of this story, a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for 12 years. This bleeding was, no doubt, painful for the women, physically and mentally. But it also likely prevented her from marrying and having children. Certainly it rendered her ritually unclean continually. She was robbed of any kind of life but begging, if such a thing constituted life in the first century. Surely the fact that she is able to get close to Jesus through his entourage of disciples is evidence that she was already overlooked, as of no consequence, by the people who knew her. In that day and age, avoiding her would have been the only thing that mattered.

In fact, the thing that binds Matthew, the young girl who had died, and the bleeding woman together in these stories is that they were all “untouchable” by anyone in Jesus position. As such, they were people without place, future, dignity, and in a very real sense, cut off from life, though only the little girl is dead.

A surprising call

Of course we see immediately that Jesus pulls each of these folks out of their situation and returns them, restores them, really, to a position of life and dignity again. He calls Matthew to leave his tax booth and follow him, and Matthew complies. Jesus’ encounter with the bleeding woman, allowing her to touch his robes, rescues her from the destructive power that consumes her and makes her “well” or “whole” again. The little girl is invited to get up, and she does. Thus Jesus follows the lead of the prophets, notably Elijah. But what is surprising about this is not only that they are brought in, but also what it mens.

Recent biblical scholarship has pointed to the idea that what Jesus is about is the restoration of Israel itself. Each of these individual stories points to the greater story of Israel. This comes clearer when these two stories for today are linked with the verses that the lectionary has omitted. (Matt. 9:14-17) Here we have Jesus challenged by the disciples of John. Jesus response includes imagery of the wedding feast, the patched cloak and the new wineskins for the new wine. All of these images are of the coming age of restoration that appears with Jesus himself. God is, in fact, establishing the new age in the midst of the present one. It is in this context that these stories must be heard.

Who is to be included in that new age? That was the question. Matthew includes these three stories, as well as the following stories of the healing of the lepers and the demoniac, to help us to see that the welcome of the new age will be much wider than was thought in Jesus’ day. The call is to sinful Israel. That is the surprise. Not just to the sinful within Israel, but to the nation itself. Their exile is finally over. God is present again. But not to restore them alone. God now means to bring all people, even “the least of them” along for the ride. It is a call that will rankle the religious leaders in Jerusalem, and eventually leads to their putting Jesus to death. But it is at the same time incredibly good news. For the kingdom that is established, though not yet fully brought to bear, destroys the powers that enslave us, and bring healing and wholeness to all.

The good news here, thus, is two fold. Certainly it was good news for Matthew, the bleeding woman, the little girl. They are restored to life and community again. Certainly it is also good news for Israel as a nation. They too will receive once again their place as “light to the nations” and “servant people.” But hidden within these restorations is the call that goes along with the healing and forgiving power of God’s grace. Once restored, each is called now to bear witness to the coming “kingdom” of God. That is to say, each bears witness to the reality that God is present and ruling in the world, in history, in the lives of people. They do not have to use words to do this. They are living signs of the reign of God. They point to Jesus as God’s anointed, through whom God’s plan comes to its decisive fullness.

Called to be living signs

Now comes the payoff for our lives as well. We too have been restored and gathered by the far reaching grace of God. We have been initiated into the coming kingdom in baptism, and our forgiveness, our healing, our new life, our restoration is underway. But we too are then called to bear the same witness. We too are called to live differently in the world. This difference is summed up in two phases: 1. Bearing witness to the kingdom, 2. Proclaiming that kingdom in word and deed by welcoming all people, with a special eye on those who are labeled “inconsequential” by the world.

We who have been touched by Jesus are called to bear witness to the kingdom of God. This is not, in its First Century context, primarily about informing people that they can go to heaven after they die. (That is a side benefit, but is not the main point.) It is primarily about proclaiming that God has, in Jesus, indeed changed the outcome of history. It is a witness of “no” to the powers that exclude (death is an extreme form of exclusion) others in the world. It is a witness of “no” to the powers that drive us to serve ourselves in a fractured world. It is a witness of “no” to the searches for life and purpose and meaning apart from God. It is a witness of “yes” to God’s way of life through self giving, even through death. It is a witness of “yes” to God’s invitation to all people to join in the wedding feast. It is a witness of “yes” to the understanding that all of us are linked in one great body, the Body of Christ, and in that body everyone matters.

Communion, shared more and more often weekly in Protestant churches, is one way in which we can bear witness to this reality. It is, as we often sing, the foretaste of the wedding banquet to come. I have come, more and more, to question (using 1 Corinthians as the backdrop for this) the idea that anyone is to be excluded from the communion table for any reason. Should not all of the wedding guests invited by Christ himself share in this feast? In today’s text there were not barriers of age, or of sin (note Matthew and Jesus shared a meal with “many tax collectors and sinners” that day) or of status in the community. I am more convinced than ever that open tables, completely open tables, are the surest witness to the reign of God in that community mealtime.

Not only this, but all the people at the table, from the largest to the smallest have the same place and the same standing at this meal. No one gets more or less food. Each one is accounted equally. For this reason I have for some time tried to get on eye level with even Children who commune. I want them to know that they are there for more than a pat on the head and a word of blessings. I want them to participate fully in the wedding feast. I want them to experience the fullness of God’s love and grace, face to face with me. To those who want children to wait until they understand, I say I’ll make children wait until then if they can tell me how exactly Christ is present themselves. To those who say that we cannot be in communion with those who do not agree 100% with our beliefs, I would challenge them to find even two people who think and believe alike. No, the kingdom, and its message of inclusion are greater than these small barriers that we have placed for others to control others. The kingdom is coming, and totally beyond our control.

Finally, the invitation is open to all. It is not open just to the righteous, or those who pretend for the moment to be righteous. It is open to all of us. And in today’s text it is clear that it is especially open to the sinners (or those considered such). Our challenge today is to ask ourselves the very hard question. Who is God including in this feast that we regularly exclude? How can we see their inclusion as a good thing, rather than a bad thing? Who would Jesus be eating with that we avoid? How can we invite them to the table? Who are the people who are lost, neglected, thrown away in our midst? How can we see them as people, and invite them to the one who alone can restore their dignity, just has he has restored ours?

Certainly is it easier to feel good about ourselves by pointing out the faults and failings of others. Certainly it is easier to point our fingers in blame at others for all the problems of this world. There is no shortage of religious rhetoric in that regard today. But the road of the cross, the road in which we recognize that we ourselves are sick and in need of healing is much more difficult. The road that says that God’s solution is already victorious in Jesus Christ does not fear to face the self with honesty, nor face others with open welcoming arms. The proclamation of the very Gospel itself depends on it.

For in God’s eye each one of us matters. In fact, each quarter of God’s creation matters very much to the one who has loved us from before the dawn of time. None of us are consumable. None of us are trash to be thrown away. None of us are inconsequential. How we live, what we do, changes dramatically when we are grasped by this loving God. And what we do thereafter matters a great deal as well.

Rev. Dr. Luke Bouman, Pastor
Tree of Life Lutheran Church, Conroe, TX
lbouman@treeoflifelutheran.org

 


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