Preached at Church of the River/ First Unitarian Church, Memphis
May 29, 2016
Matthew 9:9-13
Any belief system that we call religion must engage humans in
a journey that takes them deeper into the experiences of loving and being
loved. True religion teaches us to become more merciful toward ourselves and
others or it is not worthy of being called a religion. For religion is a way of
learning about God, the creator and sustainer of life.
God is love. Love is merciful; love is kind. Love is patient.
It does not keep score. Love crosses over and erases the boundary that
separates sinners from God. To me, to be a sinner is to fail to recognize how
much I am loved. We all tend to fail in that regard from time to time. I know I
do.
Jesus was merciful toward all of us… beggars, prostitutes, tax
collectors, prisoners, ex-felons, homeless men and women, people with mental
illness, foreigners, widows, orphans and people with contagious diseases. His
inclusiveness was religious, racial, economic and political. He didn’t judge
people and stamp them with a label: illegal immigrant, lazy welfare queen, unwed
mother, promiscuous drug addict, hopeless bum.
Jesus sat with people considered outcasts and he ate with
them, drank with them, laughed with them and enjoyed their company. This was
outrageous to the righteous! They
criticized him and they criticized his disciples, insisting that they justify
their behavior. “Get it right or get out!” the righteous demand. This has
nothing to do with God, love or mercy. So what does it have to do with
religion?
The early church took quite seriously the mercy of Jesus. The Roman
world was amazed at the courage and mercy of Christians in the middle of
plagues, war and persecutions. Jesus called “the least of these” into the heart
of his redemptive love. And the early Christians were known for following Jesus’
example.
Followers of Jesus opened their hearts and their homes to
others because it was their calling. They had been lovingly received into a new
way of life, a fuller and freer way of living and being. They had no reason to
shut others out of the experience that had embraced them with hope, eliminating
their fears and healing their wounds. Faith hoarded is faith destroyed. True
faith in the love of God crosses over and erases any boundaries that separate
us from one another or from God.
Today’s church no longer seems as clear as it once did about
following in the way of Jesus and growing more merciful. I am not sure where we
would find Jesus eating today if he came for dinner.
Last Sunday morning, in downtown Memphis, an 18 year old girl
(Myneishia Johnson) was walking on Second Street with two of her friends. A man
drove by and fired a gun at them. All three were struck by the bullets and
Myneishia was dead at the scene. She was due to graduate from Booker T
Washington High School this week. Her one-year old son accepted her diploma for
her yesterday. His grandmother carried him across the platform.
In reaction to the announcement that this infant would be
allowed to receive his mother’s diploma, a Memphis woman named Kelly Griffin
wrote to the principal of Booker T. Washington, Alisha Coleman Kriner, saying
that Myneishia’s son should not be allowed to receive his mother’s diploma. It
would be, in Ms Griffin’s judgement, a celebration of the sin of an unwed
mother who was out with friends instead of being home where she belonged. And
Ms Griffin went on to add that the father of the infant was not known and this
somehow added to her disgust that the child should receive his mother’s
diploma..
The principal, Ms Coleman-Kriner, was horrified by the woman’s
self-righteousness and by all that Kelly Griffin assumed about this young girl.
The principal wrote back to Ms Griffin and set her straight about many things.
But some things cannot be set straight by an email. I fear that Ms Griffin,
wherever she is and whatever her situation, will need more than an email to
connect with the mercy in God’s love.
“I have come,” Jesus said, “to call not the righteous but
sinners.” That is what he said. And his words leave us, you and me, Ms Coleman-
Kriner, Ms Griffin and all of us, to determine where we are in that statement. Has
he come to call us or have we put ourselves outside the sound of his voice,
made ourselves too good, too clean, too educated, too wealthy to have him sit
with us at the table?
Interesting… The word “sinner” here in the Matthew text can be
translated to “outcast.” Jesus is accused of eating with tax-collectors and
outcasts. The people at the table where Jesus chose to sit and eat were not
morally corrupt or terminally broken people. They were people who had not pleased
the rule-keepers, the righteous, the powerful.
They were called “sinners” because they were people who had
been cast out of the in-crowd and its power. And Jesus’ strategy is a simple
one. He eats with them. He goes where the culture has infused toxic shame and
he renders the people there wholly acceptable. No, more than that…wholly
favorable.
Gregory Boyle is a Catholic priest in Los Angeles who started
and is the executive director of a nonprofit called Homeboy Industries. He
loves and supports gang members in Los Angeles and he has been loving them for
many years now. He has a thousand stories to tell about the ways that being
loved, being called and being included have transformed human lives on the
streets and in the poor neighborhood of Boyle Heights. Gregory Boyle, this
Jesuit priest, fights despair. His book, Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of
Boundless Compassion, is as inspiring and touching as any book I have ever
read. I recommend it to you.
Boyle says that we have come to believe that people grow into
being favorable with Jesus, with our creator, with perfect love. We have to
work at it, according to popular opinion. We must do things to please God. We
must sacrifice and atone for our waywardness in order to be loved and favored
by God. We must live a certain way and the externals of our life must
illustrate how much God loves us. It will be obvious that we are blessed: nice
car, nice clothes, good job, orderly life. No shame.
But Boyle says it’s not like that. We don’t work our way into
God’s mercy and love. He points out: The only thing we know about Jesus growing
up years is that he grew in wisdom and favor with God. But, Boyle asks, did
Jesus work at becoming favorable to God or did he discover, as time went by, that he was in fact wholly favorable to God
and had always been so—even as you and I are wholly favorable even now? Even as
we all are. Right now.
This good guy priest, Gregory Boyle, serves the Delores
Mission, a church that has been vandalized, its walls spray-painted with the words:
Wet Back Church. It is a place where gang members gather by the bell tower,
homeless and undocumented men and women are fed, and folks arrive at all hours
for AA and NA meetings.
One day a man drove up to Delores Mission in a fine car and he
got out. He had on very nice clothes. He talked with Boyle, nostalgic for his
early life in this neighborhood. He had been baptized in that building and had had
his first communion there. He looked around at the people gathered. “Tsk. Tsk.”
He said, “You know, this used to be a church.”
According to Boyle, it is now finally a church, a place where our
culture’s toxic shame is washed away, a place where lives are transformed by
love, a place where everyone has a chance to feel included. It’s a church, a
place where people are called to give and receive mercy.
Perfect love passes by us as we go about our daily business,
as we struggle to have faith and to sustain our hope. “Come with me,” Love
calls us. “Follow me. Have mercy.” And be the church in Memphis.
Amen.