Third Pentecost
Mtt. 9:9-13, 18-26 reference to Hosea 5:15-6:6
Many years ago when Doug and I were new to the ministry we both served different congregations. Doug's church was Trinity Lutheran at 103 rd and Beverly and I was associate pastor at Bethlehem at 94 th and Oakley. The churches were probably no more than six city blocks apart, about a mile and half in geographical measure. But in every other measure they were worlds apart. Separated only by a train track, one congregation was 95 percent white and the other was 95 percent African American. One had a large endowment, the other struggled week to week and month to month to pay its bills. One had facilities that reflected years of careful maintenance and repair, the other struggled to patch the roof and mend an ancient boiler. Six blocks apart but worlds away. No physical walls but barriers none the less
The poet Robert Frost made famous the line, "Something there is that doesn't love a wall." Frost must not have been thinking of Jerusalem--or Rome, London or Paris--when you see the ruins, the foundations of once massive city walls that formed protection for the inhabitants of the city. There was no access except through massive city gates. In times of civil unrest or war, people flocked into the city from neighboring farms and villages, hoping to find security behind the city walls.
We don't build walls like that around our cities today--though we are into expensive defense systems. We guard our national borders carefully. We have our "walls".
In Children's letters to God, little Nan asks this question:
Dear God,
"Who draws the lines around countries?"
That's a very good question. I know that in my lifetime the lines have been redrawn many dozens of times. Whole new countries have come into being. Divided countries have been united. United countries have been divided.
And even as we speak walls are going up and barriers are being built.
The world is filled with great structures that have been designed to separate people, like the city walls of ancient capitals and the great Wall in China.
There are other barriers that are closer to home. They can be determined by which school you attend, where you work, the kind of car you drive, or the cost of your tennis shoes. These artificial walls divide people between those that are like us and those that are not. We usually don't like to get too close to people who are different than us.
It has always been so. When archeologists dig to learn of ancient cultures, they uproot not just the remains of walls but remnants of the ways of life that separated the people from the ways of others.
Jesus lived in a similar age of division. Jews safeguarded themselves from others by maintaining laws of purity. The Pharisees saw to the details of those laws and kept the populace on their toes, lest they fall into contact with those who could taint their cleanness.
Gentiles were avoided, Samaritans were hated, sinners were outcast, lepers were quarantined, the sick were kept apart and those who buried the dead were considered unclean for a week. But, Jesus paid little heed to these human restrictions. It's one of the things that got him into trouble with the religious authorities.
In today's gospel stories, Jesus demonstrates his disregard for human barriers. When a disciple is needed, he looks in an unlikely place and calls upon Matthew, the tax collector. No faithful Rabbi would consider an outcast for his disciple. Such a sinner would be too evil to employ in godly matters. But, Matthew had some quality of leadership that Jesus could see. He stepped into Matthew's world, ate with his friends, and put Matthew to work in spreading the good news of God's love.
Jesus runs into another barrier when the leader of the synagogue bursts upon the scene. His daughter has died and he implores Jesus to come and touch her. Such a thing wasn't done. For Jesus to touch her would make Jesus himself unclean. The family should bury her and suffer the impurity of having touched death. Again, Jesus steps over the barrier, silences the mourners and makes his way to the dead girl's side.
Along the way he is confronted by yet another level of separation. The bleeding woman touches his garment and makes him ritually unclean. His response? Not what anyone would expect. He doesn't run away in shame. He doesn't rebuke her for her legal breach. He doesn't chastise her for her affront. He heals her and speaks words of encouragement.
Jesus recognizes no walls that should keep him from these people. He applies no test for proper doctrine, no question regarding their political convictions, no calculation of their gender, ethnicity, or social standing. He sees only their need to be touched, to be healed, to be loved, and forgiven. He responds to a need in them that unites us all--the need to be made whole. "Those who are well have no need of a physician." He told the Pharisees. But no one is well. And our human distinctions do not help us. None of us is whole, no matter our education, gender, nationality, race, convictions, or affiliations.
None of us is well; perhaps least of all, those who cannot see their illness. The Pharisees could not see their sin. They could not see that building walls and keeping boundaries was contrary to the true nature of the faith they strove to protect. Jesus argued with the Pharisees a lot. But, he didn't have much success with them.
Perhaps he will have more success with us, for we are united with all people in our need for him. The walls we create to keep ourselves from others are often merely symptoms of our desperate need to be made whole. We pray that Jesus will touch us the way he touched the people in these stories. We pray that he will call us and use us as he used even the loathsome Matthew. And we pray that in our healing and rejuvenation, we may be merciful to others who seem, by virtue of human division to be on the wrong side of the tracks.
Amen