Meditation for 7 October 2009

From The Rev. Peter A. Munson

Matthew 9:9-13

9 As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, “Follow me.”  And he got up and followed him.  10 And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with him and his disciples.  11 When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”  12 But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.  13 Go therefore and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”

The Company We Keep

As parents, one of the concerns that Julia and I have had over the years has been to know something about our children’s friends - who they are hanging out with.  Fortunately for us, we have also learned over time that both Zach and Hannah have good judgment when it comes to making friends.  They enjoy being with other young people who have goals for their future, and who have self-respect and respect for others.  We do not expect their friends to be clones of them.  But we do pay attention to who they are hanging out with, because we realize that the company that you keep can make a big difference in how your life unfolds.

You and I have responded to a call from Jesus, who says to each of us, in one way or another, “Follow me.”  And then we discover, as we follow him, that Jesus hung out with all the wrong people!  He was especially known for hanging out with tax collectors and “sinners” – people who were known publicly for breaking the Jewish law in lots of different ways, people who you might say were “morally bankrupt.”  They were unclean; they were outcasts; they were certainly not people with whom you were encouraged to sit down and have a meal.  And yet Jesus did exactly that with them.  He didn’t just say “Hey!  What’s up!” to them.  He sat down to dinner with them, listened to them, and undoubtedly spoke to them about the kingdom of God.  And what he also did, of course, was love them.

One of the aspects of being a priest that continues to be interesting for me is to see what kinds of reactions people have when they find out that I am a priest.  I met some folks on top of a 14er one time and I was with my friend, Don, who has a background as an environmentalist and limnologist and as someone who oversees grants for local community development projects in Minnesota.  The conversation was going full blast when Don was sharing about his work.  When the other party asked what I did, and I told them, the conversation came to a screeching halt, and soon there was a quick, “We’re going to head down the mountain now.”  Don and I were both left shaking our heads.

Yesterday I attended a really helpful workshop in Boulder on “Money and Joy”.  It was led by a couple from The Netherlands who have been taking various courses from Gay and Katie Hendricks, just as Julia and I have been doing over the last several years.  When a woman in the workshop discovered that I was a priest, she said, “I’m surprised to know that a priest is here, learning this Hendricks material.”

There seems to be an assumption that church people – or at least church leaders – won’t be hanging out with the “regular folks”.  How many times have I heard non-church folks, or even church folks, say to me “Oh, sorry, Father!” when someone cusses.  (Or someone will say, upon finding out that I’m a priest, “Oh, I guess we’ll have to watch our language now!”)  It’s all rather amusing and bemusing to me on several levels.  Do they think I never cuss?  Do they think I will condemn them for cussing?  If God has been hearing them cuss for years and years, is it suddenly worse when I hear them cuss?

Mostly though, in these situations there seems to be this assumption that the clergy aren’t one of us.  You all are different.  Believe me, I take seriously all the vows I made at my ordination to the priesthood, including the one where I said I would “do my best to pattern my life in accordance with the teachings of Christ, so that I may be a wholesome example to my people.”

But this is not the same thing as saying, “Separate yourself from the masses.  Only hang out with other Christians.  Act holy all the time.”

While I strive to be a wholesome example, I also must take note of the fact that modeling my life on the teachings (and actions) of Christ means not separating myself from others, but looking for places of connection with every person.  At its core, that connection is about all of us being beloved children of God, about God loving each of us way, way more than we manage to love ourselves.  We’re all desperately in need of God’s love, and God is happy to shower His love upon all of us, and that puts us all in the same boat, and makes us all wonderfully blessed – if we can simply notice that truth, and accept it.

Perhaps that is one of our #1 callings as Christians – to come alongside other people and remind them that they are the beloved of God, too.  Was it Groucho Marx who said something like “I wouldn’t want to be part of any club that would consider having me as a member!”?  Well… though I do care about who my children hang out with, Jesus comes along and reminds me… just about every single day… that I am no different than any other person that Jesus calls to follow him.  I’m a sinner.  I’m a beloved child of God.  I’m a human being to whom God extends his love, his grace, and his invitation to transformation.  I am all of these things – just like you.  Just like the folks I run into at the Hendricks workshops.  Just like the folks I run into on various trails around Colorado.  Just like the folks you and I run into at the homeless shelter.  We are all invited to be members in the same “club” – the kingdom of God.

You and I are tempted to keep a very tight circle, with respect to the company that we keep.  But we follow a Lord who – the more he traveled – traveled in broader and broader circles… in all-encompassing circles.  And for that I can only say, “Thanks be to God!”