One of Abigail Van Buren’s –
better known as Dear Abby’s - most
memorable quotations ever is this one: “The church is supposed to be a hospital
for sinners, not a hotel for saints.” As we begin our month-long sermon series
on “Re-Thinking Church,” I can think of no better starting point than this
quotation.
You’ve heard me say before that when non-church goers in
this country are asked what they think of when they even hear the words
“Christian” or “church,” they immediately think of judgment and exclusion. They
think of all the things Christians and church folks are against and all the
groups of people we try to keep out of our church communities. This Christian
tendency to judge and exclude others goes all the way back to before Jesus’
time.
In our Matthew 9 passage this morning, Jesus is sharing a
meal with tax collectors and other sinners. The Pharisees and teachers of the
Jewish law are furious! They simply cannot accept the fact that one of their
fellow Jewish rabbi’s – and remember, that’s what Jesus was – would knowingly
violate this sacred Jewish principle of holiness, by associating with people
who clearly didn’t live according to Jewish laws. They wanted the church – or,
in their case, temple – to be a hotel for saints, a prestigious, respectable
club of righteous people. But Jesus wanted no such thing, not for His church.
“Those who are well,” Jesus said, “have no need of a physician.”
It wasn’t only the Jews who believed that a true faith
community should be for the righteous only. Several of the early groups of
Christians were after the very same thing. Those who followed the disciple John
– whose perspective we find most clearly articulated in the Gospel of John and
in the 3 Epistles of John – were just as concerned as the Pharisees about
keeping the church “pure” and free from those who weren’t as “righteous” as
they presumed themselves to be. John’s gospel says
in its 3rd chapter: “And this is the judgment: that light has come
into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light, because
their works were evil.” Paul picks up on this same exclusionary and judgmental
perspective in his 2nd letter to the Corinthians, saying, “Do not be
yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have
in common? Or what fellowship could light possibly have with darkness?” (II
Cor. 6:14)
Interestingly
enough, this very passage was used against one of my favorite former students quite
recently. Her name is Reagan. She is incredibly bright, super kind, very
attractive, and has one of the kindest hearts I’ve ever encountered. Her family
is not religious and does not attend church. Her mother was diagnosed recently
with breast cancer, and Reagan has dropped most everything to care for her mom.
Reagan’s boyfriend is from a fairly conservative Christian family that attends
a very conservative, non-denominational church in Petoskey. Her boyfriend, a
terrific young man, had been volunteering with the middle school youth group at
his church for over four years. He loved the work and the kids loved him. One
day after church, his pastor called him in out of the blue to talk. The pastor
informed him that he was no longer welcome to serve as a middle school youth
leader. Puzzled, Reagan’s boyfriend asked why. The pastor proceeded to tell him
that since he was dating a non-Christian – or ‘yoked with a non-believer” - he
was setting a dangerous example for the youth group kids. Therefore, it wasn’t
appropriate for him to be in any sort of contact with the youth group kids
anymore. He was relieved of his duties.
Wow!
Reagan would be the first young woman I would WANT my son to date if I had a
son! I was dumbfounded! And can you imagine the effect this decision is going
to have on both Reagan and her boyfriend in terms of their ever wanting to have
anything to do with a Christian or church community again?
I cannot tell you how grateful I am
to be a part of a church family like this one that endeavors to accept all
people. I was so incredibly drawn to come here when I got word that you had
gone through the difficult but important process of becoming an open and
affirming church, and had voted quite overwhelmingly to adopt that position.
That is such an important step on a path that must become increasingly open to
others. So many churches that bear Christ’s name are sending the exact opposite
message. But our world needs churches that not only say but live out the
message that “whoever you are, wherever you’ve been, and wherever you are on
life’s journey, you ARE welcome here.”
I’ve
always been drawn to what Dear Abby said about the church: that it should be a
hospital for sinners, not a hotel for saints. When a person walks into a
hospital emergency room, what do the doctors and nurses care about…? Getting the patient whatever help and healing
he/she needs. They don’t concern themselves with the moral background of the
patient. They don’t waste time determining if the patient “deserves” their care
or not. They don’t bother with how the injury or illness happened or whose
fault it was. A hospital’s mission is simple and pure – to help those who are
sick or injured. Period. Shouldn’t that be our mission too?
I’ve
always believed that churches could learn an awful lot from Alcoholics
Anonymous. AA is a group that understands much better than most Christians do
the power of radical inclusion and acceptance. No matter how many times one
falls off the wagon, no matter how many times one has tried and failed to get
sober, she is always welcomed at an AA meeting. AA is not just for those who
have gotten their you-know-what together and kicked the habit of drinking! AA
is for any and everyone who wishes they could! I absolutely love the fact that
every time an AA member opens his mouth, he begins by saying, “I’m Toby and I’m
an alcoholic.” It doesn’t matter if my last drink was 25 years ago or 25 minutes
ago; I still affirm my weakness, my addiction, and my absolute equality with
every other person in the room and with every other alcoholic in the entire
universe.
It
would be great if someday walking into this church felt the same way as walking
into a hospital or an AA meeting. Wouldn’t it be great if we affirmed that same
truth: “My name is Toby, and I’m a sinner...My name is Toby and I’ve screwed up
in life…My name is Toby and I’ve ruined my marriage…My name is Toby, and I
managed to break another 3 commandments this week…My name is Toby, and I’m a
child of God like every other person in this church and in this world.”
One
of my favorite spiritual mentors of all time is the late Mike Yaconelli. Often
called “the father of modern Youth Ministry, he, perhaps more than any other
pastor and theologian, helped to set me straight on what Christ’s church is
supposed to be. Listen to just a few of his gems:
“The Church is the place where the
incompetent, the unfinished, and even the unhealthy are welcome.”
“Accepting the reality of our broken,
flawed lives is the beginning of spirituality, not because the spiritual life
will remove our flaws, but because we let go of seeking perfection and,
instead, seek God, the one who is present in the tangledness of our lives.”
“Nothing in the church makes people in
the church more angry than grace. It's ironic: we stumble into a party we
weren't invited to and find the uninvited standing at the door making sure no
other un-invited’s get in. Then a strange phenomenon occurs: as soon as we are
included in the party because of Jesus' irresponsible love, we decide to make
grace "more responsible" by becoming self-appointed Kingdom Monitors,
guarding the kingdom of God, keeping the riffraff out (which, as I understand
it, are who the kingdom of God is supposed to include).”
Here
is what I think, folks…I think that every time another person is or feels
excluded from a church, another nail is pounded into Jesus’ hands and feet…I
think that every time a person feels or hears the whisper of judgment by a
supposed follower of Jesus, God’s heart breaks all over again…I think that the
mistakes I’ve made over the course of my 54 years of life unite me with every
other living, breathing, flawed human being, from the biggest mass murderer of
all time to the person who cheated once on his income taxes….I think that God’s
love and acceptance of me, as one of his own precious children, unites me with
every single man, woman, and child in this universe.
So
when I step over to this table of bread and wine, I step gently, humbly aware
that I don’t deserve to be fed here. And yet, I also step confidently, because
I am invited here by Jesus, and he will never turn anyone away. But most
importantly, I come to this table knowing that I have no reason nor right to be
a Kingdom Monitor, keeping the “riff-raff” out, for they, like me, are the very
ones God’s kingdom and table of grace were made for.
How
can I be so sure? By taking a look at a few of the other people Jesus invited to
this table and to his church…the woman at that well who had been married five
times and was living with a sixth man…a woman who’d been suffering with a
12-year bleeding problem and hadn’t been allowed in a temple in all that time
because she was considered “unclean”…that Gerasene demoniac who had been kicked
out of his town and tied up in chains because the people were so afraid of
him…Zacchaeus, the corrupt tax collector who had been robbing his own people
for years…that woman who had been caught in the very act of adultery. They’re
all people Jesus welcomed. He built his church for them!
From
its very beginning, Jesus’ church was established for the outsider – for the
sick and the lame, for the forgotten and the blamed, for the sinner and the
criminal, for the widow and the orphan. So it was; so it is; and so it shall
be…forever and ever. Amen.
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