Sermon

June 5, 2005

 

A Sermon Preached at St. Stephen’s on June 5, 2005, by the Rev. Cork Tarplee

Former slave trader turned pastor John Newton was the composer of "Amazing Grace." In the 1700’s he was sent from his small country church to a big church in London and he told friends he was praying for "London Grace." When they asked him what that was, he replied, "London Grace is a grace of a very high degree; a very intense grace; a very special grace; a grace strong enough to make it possible for me to live a Christian life, even in London."  Most of us find it tough enough to live out our faith that we can sympathize with John Newton .  We need a New York grace or a Jersey grace—we know we can’t make it on our own.  As Robert Louis Stevenson put it, “Most people are having a hard fight; therefore, let us be kind to one another.” This is a sermon about a grace so strong that it literally embraces everyone.

We come this morning to the heart of all the Gospels. The incident from our gospel this morning and the attitude behind it is what separated Jesus from all the pious teachers of the time, and it is what got him killed. After calling a notorious thug as his follower, Jesus sits down to supper and the low-life people start pouring in.  This shocks the righteous people around him who take his followers aside to complain, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus’ response—as it is rendered in a modern paraphrase is this: “Who needs a doctor: the healthy or the sick? Go figure out what this scripture means: ‘I’m after mercy, not religion.’ I’m here to invite outsiders, not to coddle insiders.”  The scripture Jesus is quoting is our first reading this morning from the Old Testament prophet Hosea.  Hardly anybody reads Hosea anymore, but Jesus obviously took it to heart.  We don’t read Hosea because it is scandalous.  It is the story of a man who took God’s mercy seriously, married a prostitute and when she was unfaithful to him, forgave her and brought her home again.  When Hosea quotes God as saying, “I’m after mercy, not religion.” He apparently knew what he was talking about.

Jesus, too, seems to have lived out the kind of mercy he read about in Hosea.  He spent his time with the poor, the blind, the lame, the lepers, the hungry, prostitutes, tax collectors, the persecuted: all who labor and are heavy burdened. Preacher Lawrence DeWolfe was moved by this behavior to speculate that if Jesus came into town on a Sunday morning, Jesus wouldn’t go to church. Jesus, he said, would “walk on by the churches full of people who were happy in their righteousness, full of goodness and convinced of their salvation.” Instead, he writes, “On their way home, the church folk would see Jesus down the alley by the tavern…they would see him by the video return chute at the porn shop, shaking hands and passing out coffees.  They’d pass the betting shop and there would be Jesus helping the manager open up for the day.”  He concludes that Jesus would be at the hospital, the nursing home and the jail on Sunday morning…anywhere people were in trouble, but he would only be attracted to a church if that church was full of sinners.

There are two main conclusions we can draw from Jesus’ behavior.  The first is that all are welcome in Jesus’ house.  This is always more challenging than it sounds.  In my parish in New Hampshire, the senior warden was a devout man who had kept the church going for years.  Single handedly he took care of the grounds, the altar linens, and when there was no priest he faithfully conducted services every day.  When I came as priest, he was deeply shocked.  To begin with, I was divorced and soon to be remarried. Then, I was serious when I welcomed newcomers into the church without distinction, including an unmarried couple living together, a member of the diocesan staff who was gay and living in a committed relationship, and a married woman everyone knew was having an affair.  After six months of this, the senior warden left the church. “I used to come to church,” he told me when I tracked him down to try to convince him not to leave, “I used to come to church in order to feel special.  It made me feel righteous and better than other people. Now that the church lets anybody in, I don’t feel that way anymore.” If all are truly welcome in Jesus’ house, at some point all of us are going to feel a little like my old senior warden.  If we are not welcoming enough to feel threatened, it may be that we aren’t welcoming enough.

            The second conclusion we can draw from Jesus’ behavior is that WE are welcome in Jesus’ house. If, as Stevenson said, we are “having a hard fight” and sometimes losing a little… if, by the grace of God, we are aware of our shortcomings and feeling embarrassed and ashamed, then Jesus acceptance of the low-lifes of his day should remind us that we are not beyond the pale.  WE are welcome in Jesus’ house. Now. Not some time in the future when we have gotten our lives back in order, but now while we are still a mess and not yet ready to reform ourselves. The grace of God is a powerful grace, a New York grace, a Jersey grace.  It is strong enough to welcome everyone.  It is strong enough to welcome you and strong enough to welcome me.                         AMEN