Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
There are a lot of things we don’t know about Jesus. We don’t know what he looked like. We don’t know what games he played growing up. We don’t know what his favorite food was, though I’m guessing it probably was not small one-inch wafers. And we don’t know what he was like at dinner parties. We have that one story about the woman washing his feet during a meal but, but generally speaking, we can only imagine what it was like to have Jesus sitting at one’s dinner table. Did he preach to the other guests? Did he recite psalms? Or did he just gaze at people with his penetrating eyes? We don’t know for sure, but we’re not completely in the dark. We have some hints. For one thing, he was popular: he was invited to lots of parties. That would tend to indicate that people liked being around him, that he was enjoyable to be with. And apparently he liked to have a good time: at one point in the Gospels he is even accused of being a glutton and a drunkard. So while we may have some cloying images in our minds of Jesus just sitting there looking pious, we actually have good reason to believe that he was the kind of guest any of us might like to have come to dinner: thoughtful, fun, a good conversationalist, and an attentive listener.I say all this because in our Gospel today, Jesus is having dinner with a bunch of “tax collectors and sinners.” Tax collectors, of course, were roundly despised by most Jews because they collaborated with Roman authorities and were often dishonest, defrauding people and siphoning off lots of money for themselves. Incredibly, Jesus calls one of them, Matthew, to be his disciple. And then he hangs out with Matthew’s friends. The Pharisees are aghast, but we’re told that many tax collectors came to this dinner: they wanted to be there, wanted to be with Jesus. What can we conclude from this? It seems pretty clear that Jesus did not use this meal as an opportunity to berate those sinners and demand that they change their ways. In the story, he offers no condemnation of them at all. Maybe he talked some about the kingdom of God, but he no doubt did what people do in such social gatherings: he shared, he listened, he joked around. And he loved them. He loved them as they are.
I think we should take a moment and allow ourselves to be shocked by this. Jesus loves sinful people. He enjoys being around wrongdoers, even egregious wrongdoers. In fact, his harshest words are always directed at super religious people who are convinced of their own righteousness. He will call them out on their hypocrisy, but for run of the mill sinners, for thieves, prostitutes, adulterers, rebels, tax collectors ─ he is invariably merciful and forgiving. He says it directly today: Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, "I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.
There’s something here for us. So for a few moments let’s get in touch with our inner tax collector and think about all our mistakes and failures. Consider all the wrong we have done, all the people we have hurt. Call to mind all the brokenness and messiness we have caused, and then imagine Jesus walking into the house of our life with a big smile on his face, saying “I’m so glad to be here! What’s for dinner?” Is he just indifferent to our behavior? No, he sees all the pain we’ve inflicted on ourselves and others. And he sees what lies beneath it all: the fears and insecurities, the addictions and compulsions that so often drive us to do what we do. And he forgives every last bit of it. All that Jesus feels for us is love and compassion. It’s not that he doesn’t want us to grow in goodness – of course he does. It’s just that he knows the way of the Pharisees, the way of rigid adherence to an external set of laws, only gets us so far. Too many religious people are outwardly righteous while their hearts teem with hatred, malice, jealousy, and all manner of dark thoughts, and are able to do so much damage while technically obeying the letter of the law. And that just won’t work; it won’t get us where we ultimately want to be. So Jesus chooses instead to love us into the Kingdom of God.
He will literally keep on loving us and forgiving us until our hearts are enlarged enough, our spirits are expanded enough, that we can love and forgive like he does. This is his Gospel, the Good News that he proclaims. And it actually works. We see it in the Bible: it worked for Matthew. It worked dramatically for another tax collector named Zacchaeus, who is so moved that Jesus is kind enough to have dinner with him that he gives away half of his possessions to the poor and pays back everyone he has defrauded four times over. But we don’t have to go to Scripture for proof: I imagine many of us here have experienced or at least have begun to experience this ourselves.
I know I have. I have long since come to see that the perfectionism project of my youth led nowhere. I could put up a good front, but it was just that: a front. Inside I was still a mess. I still felt like I had to somehow earn God’s love and approval. What has made such a huge difference for me and countless others has been letting Christ into my actual life, letting him see me and love me as I really am. Imagine being completely honest and transparent, hiding nothing, and I mean hiding nothing, and letting the light of God’s love and forgiveness wash over you. I truly believe that is where the transformative work of Christ in our lives really begins. I don’t think it is quick and easy: it can be quite painful seeing ourselves for who we really are; we can resist accepting God’s unconditional love for us. But the power of such love is beyond measure. The Holy Spirit certainly has a lot more work to do with me, but I know that allowing God to love me as I am over the years has made me kinder and gentler, more patient and more compassionate with myself and with others than I would ever have been otherwise. Ultimately, the source of our greatest joy and deepest peace will be to love like Jesus. Someday, in the fullness of time, we will know that joy and peace. But the journey towards that begins by letting Jesus love us right now, exactly as we are.
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