“CALLING ALL SINNERS”

Text: Mark 2: 13-17 Esv

13 He went out again beside the sea, and all the crowd was coming to him, and he was teaching them. 14 And as he passed by, he saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, "Follow me." And he rose and followed him. 15 And as he reclined at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were reclining with Jesus and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. 16 And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, "Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?”  17 And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners."   †

1. LIFE WITH THE SELL-OUTS

After healing the paralytic, leaving everyone amazed, Jesus and his disciples make their way along the lake. As they are going, they pass by a tax booth, where a Jew named Levi (also known as Matthew) was collecting taxes—taking money from already poor Jews and giving it to their Roman oppressors.

Tax Collectors

Jews of Jesus’ day despised tax collectors. They saw them as collaborators. Think of Vichy France and the puppet government established by the Germans in France—these French leaders completely compromised with the Nazis. They may have been French on the outside, but inside they were Nazi collaborators.

Tax collectors were like this. They took the wealth of the already occupied Jews and gave the money to Rome. In exchange, they were allowed to overcharge and pocket the difference. They were sell-outs.

At some point, Levi made a conscious decision to depart Jewish integrity. He sold out the interests of his people for money. He may not have cared much for the company of scribes and Pharisees anyway, and may have taken comfort in having friends in low places. We can say that he—like other tax collectors—had  turned from the religious community in order to be a part of a community of acceptance. 

Jesus calls Levi, Follow me!, and immediately Levi gets up and follows. Again, the calling from Christ goes out and the response to his call is like iron filings drawn to a monster magnet.

Next, the text tells us that they were reclining at Levi’s house and that there were tax collectors, sinners, and good number of Jesus’ followers there. Evidently, Levi found tax collecting rather lucrative, for this must have been a large house indeed if so many people could recline and dine there at once.

Sinners

The “sinners” were less likely the amalgam of prostitutes, thieves and drunkards of the popular imagination (I’m thinking of 1960s Sunday School curricula) and more likely Jews who were less than totally observant. We would call them lapsed believers. They were still Jewish, but they may have lapsed in theirs temple tithes and therefore been disqualified from the temple system. In turn, the religious Jews considered them false—barely Jews at all. They were sinners—outside of God’s favor and mercy.

The Pharisees

The Pharisees were of two, basic schools: the school of Shammai and the school of Hillel. The Shammaiites were the ultra-orthodox Jews, and these are the ones with whom Jesus usually met conflict. They were strict and unyielding in their approach to righteousness. They believed it was “work” to heal on the Sabbath, and that Jews were the solely-favored ethnicity, and therefore Gentiles should not convert to Judaism. The school of Hillel was a bit more liberal, in the old sense of the word. They believed that Gentiles who turned away from idols and sought to worship the one, true God should be converted to Judaism. The Greek-named Jews of the New Testament were most likely Hillelites. They viewed healing as a good work, and therefore permitted healings on the Sabbath. It is not unlikely that Jesus was more closely associated with the school of Hillel than Shammai. He had Pharisee friends and followers—Nicodemus, with whom he ate, was likely of the Hillel school, as was Saul, who persecuted Christians before he became Paul—but the Hillel school was less hostile toward Jesus.

In our text the Pharisees say to the disciples, “Why does your rabbi eat with tax collectors and sinners?” This places them in the Shammai school, who believed that eating with Gentiles or even entering their doorway made one ritually unclean. They were clearly outside, for they would not have gone into a tax collector’s home, let alone sat at his table. They confront  the Disciples, but Jesus overhears and gives his strange and wonderful word:

  “Healthy people have no need of a doctor—only the sick. I did not come to call the righteous ones, but the sinners.”

Upside Down

Every jaw would have dropped. This would have turned their world upside down. Rabbis were all interested in righteousness and obedience to the Law of Moses—how could any rabbi dare to say that he came not to call the righteous, but to call sinners? Jesus is calling the very ones everyone expected God to not favor—the ones God seemed most likely to reject.

And yes, this is good news for us: Jesus calls sinners. Hooray, that includes me! The good news here is that God’s calling is the central agent of our salvation, not our righteousness. Neither our goodness nor our rottenness can separate us from God’s calling. He is the magnet; we are the iron filings, and we get pulled in, just like Levi the tax collector.

2. CALLING ALL SINNERS

So to what does Jesus call the sinners? To a nonstop, clear-conscience continuance in their love of sin? Of course not. All sinners are called to follow, and once we do, everything, everything, everything changes.

Jesus’ continuing mission is the same: he calls sinners to repentance, but first he calls them into relationship with himself. Here we see the central agenda of Christ’s Church: to call sinners into relationship with Christ, to repent of sin and to follow him our entire lives. We too should be vigilant in seeking the lost—the sinners—proclaiming to them the favor of God and helping them to find their way into relationship with him and the whole body of believers, the Church.

Given that Jesus calls sinners—not the righteous—how should that change the way we do church? What model should we adopt for the life and mission of First Presbyterian Church of Upland. Here are a few options:

1. The Country Club

This is the Jesus-themed social gathering—the Christian Club—a place where believers can gather apart from the pressures and onslaught of a fallen world, a place where we are comfortable because everyone else here is a believer. We are among our own kind and have a safe space where we feel we truly belong. Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?  It’s probably the most popular congregational model for Presbyterians.

2. A Hospital for Sinners

This model envisions the church as a life-saving station or rehabilitation house. This kind of church has big, emergency room doors and is comfortable with messes, blood and lots of first aid patients.

3. A Hospital for Saints

This model offers another hospital, but one reserved for members. Their motto: “We care about our members!” Something is certainly missing when we care only for our own. Remember what Jesus says about those who love only those who love them back.

4. A Huddle for God’s Workers

This church is the place we gather to equip ourselves for our real work, which is out there in the world. We gather, shake off the burdens of the past week, fill up on Word and Spirit, and charge back onto the field for another go at our share in Christ’s ministry. Preparation, training, and mid-game corrections mean everything for this model.

5. A School for Christian Maturity

This kind of church builds up its members, equipping them to grow into the image of Christ. No matter how long we are in this world we remain incomplete and need to be trained and equipped for the works God puts before us.

What model makes sense for us? Perhaps “for us” is not the issue, but we should rather ask What model makes sense for those we are sent to reach?

THE UN-LAPSING OF AMERICA

America has always had flaws, but it is not flawed for its faith in God. Cultural heretics of the airwaves seek to pin oppression, racism, sexism and homophobia onto the Church as if to say that these are the true fruits of Christianity. We know that these are common sins as ancient as humanity itself and equally prevalent in atheist or pagan cultures. Perhaps America, like Levi, has lapsed a bit.

21st century America is increasingly unchurched. The way church is done has changed. We are part of a competitive, consumer-economy worship market where congregations compete against one another to draw the numbers and boost the metrics. As a result, denominational identity has become largely irrelevant. Churches seeking numerical success tend to become so welcoming and user-friendly that historical distinctiveness is rendered irrelevant, even unworthy of preservation.

Who cares what’s Presbyterian, Methodist or Lutheran in a market where any number of churches undergo constant shape-shifting in order to help you—as Burger King used to say—have it your way. We are in new territory for the Church—more than just another swing of the historical pendulum— we are truly navigating unchartered waters and the old maps will not work.

We are explorers on a journey, which begins for anyone when the voice of Jesus is heard calling, Follow! Follow me! Do you hear him calling? Is Jesus your monster magnet and are you being drawn? Will you follow and join us on the journey?

We’re Presbyterians here, but we are not selling a Presbyterian brand. We are all about Jesus, and our hope and purpose is that the call to faith would go out to every person. We are like a hand passing a monster magnet over the iron filings of this world, seeing who will be drawn.

We offer what we ourselves have and give it away freely. We are on a journey of following Jesus, living our lives in relationship with him, growing in his spirit and grace, and sharing him with everyone.

We too our selling out, but not to our own interests. We are selling out to Jesus. All we have, all we are and all we hope to become—we repent and surrender all to the one, true Lord. 

Won’t you join us on our journey?

   †

“EXPLOSION”

Last week, we saw Jesus heal Peter’s mother-in-law and then deal with the whole town of people at the door, so much so that Jesus had to go off to the wilderness for downtime to pray. When Simon and the others find him and try to get him to come back to Capernaum to do more healings, Jesus says they must go on to new towns to preach the good news of God there. Our text picks up there, perhaps still in the wilderness places:

Text: Mark 1: 40-45 Esv

40 And a leper came to him, imploring him, and kneeling said to him, "If you will, you can make me clean."

41 Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, "I will; be clean."

42 And immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean.

43 And Jesus sternly charged him and sent him away at once,

44 and said to him, "See that you say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, for a proof to them."

45 But he went out and began to talk freely about it, and to spread the news, so that Jesus could no longer openly enter a town, but was out in desolate places, and people were coming to him from every quarter.  †

PATTERNS IN THE PORTRAIT

I’m going to walk-through paraphrases of our text, because there are things that are missed in the translation to English. Let me be clear on this. When we started this series, I said that Mark is not the simple gospel some make it out to be, but that it is in fact poetic and complex. I’d like to raise that bar even higher.

Mark is painting us a portrait with embedded code. Imagine a large painting—a portrait of Jesus: at first, you take it in as a straightforward  rendering, but then you begin to notice things. Specifically, you begin to notice tiny dabs of bright orange that appear here and there—now on the shoulder of his cloak, there on the tip of his eyebrow, another on his left earlobe, and several others. Why orange? Why there? you ask. But then when you step back and look at just the orange dabs, you see a pattern to them, and sure enough, they all make up the perfect shape of a cross! You might have looked at the painting a dozen times, but never saw it until now. That is Mark’s gospel!

Only the book of Revelation is like this—with recurring themes and patterns like dabs of special color meant to reveal something deeper and more mysterious than at first meets the eye (or ear).

40

A leper came to him, imploring:

“You have the power to make me
clean if you want to.”

Remember how ancients viewed leprosy. It was contagious and incurable. This leper crossed all the lines by approaching a rabbi—all decorum was abandoned, and he risked defiling the cleanliness of Jesus by his approach and contact. This simply was not done. Leviticus 13: 45 shows us what was expected of lepers in the ancient world: 

The leprous person who has the disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head hang loose, and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, 'Unclean, unclean.'

Leprosy was incurable, and the ability to heal leprosy was—among Jewish leaders—on the level of raising someone from the dead. It wasn’t likely to ever happen, but if it did, it would be a sign of God’s own power and presence at work.

Notice that the leper doesn’t doubt Jesus’ ability to heal, but only his will. He doesn’t say, “If you are able”—he seems to know Jesus is able (which is a wonder to itself)—but asks whether Jesus is willing.

Remember Jesus in the synagogue of Capernaum? Mark tells us he cast out an “unclean spirit”—key word unclean. These words—clean and unclean—are some of those dabs of orange paint I was talking about.

41

Indignant, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him:

“I do want to—be clean!”

42

Immediately, the leprosy was cast out.

Jesus was indignant—our text says “pity” but that is not a great translation. The original word was something like anger, but as that does not seem fitting, later translations used the word for compassion, which is guts, as in gut feelings. A better translation is indignant, which is a kind of outrage against injustice—a hunger and thirst for righteousness. Surely we can see in Jesus’ eyes the indignation over the horrid treatment of lepers—the loss of community, family, and livelihood; the reduction of life to a lonesome hermitage; and the utter loss of hope as the leper is permanently refused entrance to places of worship. Furthermore, Jews were not allowed to touch lepers, least of all rabbis, depriving them of the most basic of human needs: human contact, human touch.

Therefore, isn’t this one of the most touching and moving of quotes in the whole Bible as a result? Yes, Jesus restores the human touch by his divine touch. That leper will be healed and can again embrace his wife and children. He can go back home and hold a job and enter the synagogue. Jesus restores his entire life, and seems indignant that his life should be so fulfilled.

And the leprosy, like an unclean spirit, is cast out of him—that is the precise wording. The leprosy leaves the man like a demon being cast out. Now it gets strange.

43

Indignantly, Jesus immediately commanded him and cast him out:

44

“Say nothing to anyone about this, but go show yourself to the priest and make the Mosaic offering for your cleansing as a witness to them.”

Just as Jesus had cast out unclean spirits, demons and leprosy, so now he casts out this ex-leper with his charge. And just as he would not allow the demons to speak, he says to this healed leper speak not.

We have here the beginning of a theme which runs throughout Mark: the Messianic Secret. Jesus heals the leper and charges him to tell no one. It is as though Jesus did him a special favor he didn’t want others knowing about.

Sometimes slick salesmen will use a trick that looks like this. When haggling, they’ll pull you in close—into a mock-conspiratorial whisper—“Don’t tell anyone, but for you? I give it to you for twenty dollars, but don’t tell anyone or else everybody expect that price!”

Jesus wants to keep a lid on the rate of his self-revelation. He is God incarnate, but doesn’t want it getting out of hand. What we find in Mark is that it completely gets out of hand, every time.

We’ll be seeing a lot more of it—the Messianic Secret—and it is terribly important to Mark.

Aside from commanding the man not to go blabbing about, Jesus tells him how to tell the world what has happened to him; namely, through the law of Moses. Jesus wants the Law to reveal his messiahship and for the priest to see it as a witness. Yes, Jesus is the messiah and is to be revealed as such, but not by blabbing, but rather by demonstration through the channels of the Law.

Imagine the reaction of a priest when one under the incurable curse of leprosy walks in clean!  What could he say but “The Lord is definitely at work among us—this is a miracle from God’s own hand!” That would have been—and should be—the response.

We don’t hear about the priest, but only about the ex-leper.

45

But the (ex-)leper began to preach many things and spread the word.

Jesus no longer had the power to openly enter the towns, but stayed out in wilderness places, and people came to out to him from north, south, east and west!

Question: Why did the leper who was healed disobey Jesus?

Here is more irony: doesn’t it seem more likely or reasonable that a leper who had been cleansed—a miracle among miracles—would obey his healer? I’d like to believe that if Jesus had healed me of leprosy I would be happy to do anything for which he “sternly warned me”. The effect is an explosion of sorts.

THE EXPLOSION

News about Jesus has spread so fast and furiously—and been received so famously—that he can’t even enter a town or village openly. Here is the picture of Jesus as superstar or super-celebrity. Every time he approaches a town, the people gather around him and crowd at the gates. All are so rabid to get to him that they figure it best just to turn back to the wild. Apparently, they would be mobbed even if they were they to stay just outside of town, because the text specifies “wilderness places.” This means they had to walk out of town until people gave up following.

Even out in the wild places, Jesus’ popularity is undaunted. People come to him from every direction and find him to hear him preach and to be healed.

Mark gives us a Jesus who is like a nuclear bomb: from the tiniest of actions there is an enormous reaction. The very least bit of God’s self-revelation in Jesus draws humanity like iron filings to a strong magnet.

THE FAITH OF A LEPER

Now I’d ask us to zero-in on something peculiar and marvelous from the first verse; namely, the faith of the leper.

How does the leper know that Jesus can heal him? This is great faith! He proclaims divine power (healing leprosy) which has never been demonstrated! To ask it, to expect it, was to attribute divine power to Jesus. The belief comes first.

From the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, his proclamation was that hearers should “repent and believe in the good news.”  Here we see the revelation of God’s power and the divine nature to one who already believes. In short, this leper expects Jesus to do something that is entirely God-sized.

God’s power and nature are revealed to those who believe first.

The punchline of the story comes when Jesus says “I will!” or “I want to!” This is tremendously good news, because it means:

God will do what is humanly impossible for those who believe and ask

Jesus is revealed as the unique restorer of creation. The world Jesus walks into is not the world it should be—not the world God intended—but a fallen world. Like a deflated balloon, crumpled on the ground, or a fallen soufflé—a failed attempt.

But as the leper asks for something that is beyond human possibility, so we who believe should ask God for something God-sized.

OUR GOD-SIZED REQUESTS

What are our God-sized requests? We should begin by asking what are our leprosies? How have you felt debilitated, outcast, stained, or otherwise “unclean, unclean, unclean”?

We all make mistakes: bad choices, words we can’t unsay, awkward or insensitive comments, passive/aggressive digs at others, nasty or hostile things that come out that may have  absolutely nothing to do with the person to whom they were delivered. Enduring shame for such things can hang on us like facial tumors. The result is that we either go into hiding or make the shame part of our lives and personalities: we can become edgy, irritable, easily injured and quickly offended.

Our leprosy can become anger, resentment, envy, bitterness, fear—all of which can leave us self-decaying, tumorous, falling apart.

What is your leprosy?

I’d like to suggest a spiritual leprosy that affects millions. Stemming both from our sense of uncleanliness and resentment, there may be no greater area in our need for healing than to heal our grudges.

The most damaging leprosy of our souls is our unwillingness to forgive.

Our general incapacity to forgive is a leprous tumor of decay that progressively attacks us, our families, our churches, communities and world.

Two things make it such a challenge:

1. 1.We don’t want to forgive.
   
2. 2.We may be incapable of forgiving.
   

Even so, God requires it: Matthew 6:14-15:

For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

We do not want to forgive when we go into what I call “Justice mode.” This is that attitude and state of mind that wants justice instead of forgiveness. We may have suffered hurt, so we want to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. We want to get even. We even have right to justice, and when we are in justice mode, we stand on our rights and not on our duty to forgive.

SHIFTING OUT OF JUSTICE MODE

Lots of folks let injury turn them into a kind of self-righteous victim. Because I’ve been wronged, I am perfectly virtuous in demanding justice. Now, be clear, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the love of justice, I’m just saying that the calling of Christians is to serve a higher code than eye for an eye.

Others may feel they are not capable of forgiving. People done great injury will be surrounded by friends who will say, “You don’t have to forgive!” That’s true enough unless you are a follower of Christ, then you do have to forgive. It may not be within your present personal power, but we therefore name it is our leprosy—the thing only God can change or heal.

Some years ago I was asked to be a speaker at a singles’ retreat in Lake Texoma. It was attended by about 120 singles, 85-90 of whom were divorced women. My subject was forgiveness, and my first talk was immediately met with tense and agitated body language. Heads shook, arms crossed, and angry toes tapped. I made it clear that if a Christian is unwilling to forgive, that is not the other person’s fault, but rather your own challenge to overcome. I later found out that one of the attendees was a woman who had been kidnapped along with her sister and over the course of five days repeatedly raped. Her sister was murdered. I immediately had to deal with the issue of forgiving the retreat organizers for not telling me beforehand. The woman told me she may never forgive the man. I have sympathy, but encouraged her to wrestle with her Lord in the long-term work of letting it go. Like the leper, she had a condition for which she was not responsible—one which made her feel unclean and marginalized. Like her, we all have something to learn from the leper in our text.

learning from the leper

Imagine what it would like to be whole, cured, and clean, clean, clean. Search your heart. Can you imagine how it would feel to be rid of resentment? To not have to avoid certain people? To quit giving enemies free rent in your head? We’re not asking you to be best buddies with the person or persons you need to forgive, but to become a forgiving person and to say that the other is forgiven may be enough. Would you feel more whole? Less leprous? Yes, the burden would be gone! Do we want that?

We’ve got to want it.

1. 1.Like the leper, ask for it.
   
2. 2.Believe God can do it.
   
3. 3.Trust and act.
   

In a former call I worked under a difficult Senior Pastor who never kept an associate pastor more than three years—all left angry and embittered. When I went to work there, I had the chance to see another associate go through the ringer. When my turn came (I’ll say that I lasted 6 years, breaking the record), I was hurt, angry, and mentally arguing with that senior pastor in my every spare moment. I called my former colleague (the other associate pastor) and asked him, “How did you forgive X?” I think his answer was incredibly wise—he said, “I started by forgiving him—I extended my forgiveness in a letter—after that I had no choice but to train my heart to follow.” This is what I did: I sent a letter and offered my forgiveness; my heart had to follow. I ran into him a couple years ago and found that my forgiveness was in fact complete. I was glad to see him—gave him a hug and began to remember all of the good moments we had in working together. Sometimes, like the Nike slogan, you Just Do It. Or even better, like the bungie jumping companies: Shut up and jump.

Question: What if they don’t acknowledge it?

Answer:  Forgive anyway.

Question: What if they won’t receive my forgiveness?

Answer: Give it anyway.

One of the most powerful signs of Christlike love happens when we forgive the unworthy, the unwilling, and the unrepentant. That looks like God’s love for us.

Whatever leprosy may eat at us, Christ can cast it out. Our charge is to imitate the faith of that leper. We’ve got to want it, to ask for it, and to expect it, trusting in God’s power to heal and remove it. Christ can drive it out of our lives, yours and mine. How would it feel? No more resentment, no more bitterness, no more grudges?

Know this: Jesus wants to heal us. Jesus will heal us. We have to come to him believing that he has the power to do it. He has already said that he wants to. So what are we waiting for?