Matthew 9:9-13
In the first century, tax collectors did dirty work. The collected hated taxes, they added to the bill to enrich themselves, and they worked for the Roman occupiers. Three strikes and you’re out! This coming week our country is going to watch the start of a trial that features an actress in “adult movies” and a Playboy bunny. I think their career respect in our time matches that of tax collectors in the first century. Which gives us a sense of the critique Pharisees had with Jesus’ dinner companions.
Add that to the fact that eating a meal was one of the most important cultural experiences of the time. We eat in restaurants alongside perfect strangers all the time. But first century folks only invited close friends to dinner. The food was prepared according to strict Jewish law. It was served and consumed according to those laws. Their custom and religious observance made the meal one of the most telling signs of their standing in the community and their purity as adherents of their faith.
Jesus seems to have been willing to eat with anyone. In fact, when someone invited him to dinner, he went. When they invited their friends to meet the travelling teacher, he was glad to see them. He welcomed the conversation around the table. He welcomed the people. There are plenty of examples in scripture where Jesus told people to change their ways. He was in favor of people keeping the rules and behaving well. He never said, “Do whatever you feel like, it doesn’t matter.” But even if you broke the rules and were shunned by the community, Jesus welcomed you. He would share a meal with you. To Jesus, people were more important than rules, and even those who behaved badly could be loved into a better way of living.
Those of us who want to be followers of Jesus in this time and place, need to work at being as nonjudgemental as Jesus. How do we do that?
Let’s start with two words: should and ought. How many times have you used these words in the last week? I should rake the leaves still on the lawn. I should go to the gym or take a walk. I should clean the bathroom. I should stop working for the day. I ought to lose weight. I ought to save more money. I ought to… What would you add?
When we treat ourselves like folks who can’t do the right thing, it’s no wonder that we see other people in the same light. People begging on the corners ought to get a job. People needing help from the community fund out to be ashamed. People disagreeing with us about politics ought to wise up. People dealing with addictions ought to be clean and sober. There are lots of rules about how life is supposed to work, and folks ought to pay attention to them.
Jesus surely knew that there were lots of ways people could change their habits and their minds and live a better life. But that didn’t stop him from connecting with them. He was willing to listen to their stories. I find that when you hear someone’s story, it’s harder to judge them. Lots of those stories are hard to hear.
I was remembering a story when I was thinking about this scripture. It seems that in some native tribes, when a young person did something wrong, the tribe didn’t immediately punish them. Instead they surrounded that person and “sang their song back to them until they remembered who they are.” Who they are is someone who is good, someone with wonderful talents, someone who is valued and loved by the community. There are lots of reasons to forget who you are. Anger, disappointment, illness or self doubt can cloud our memory. How important it is for a community to see the good in each person’s heart and hold that vision until they can see it themselves.
One of the most important things that Jesus did was see the good in each one. Sometimes the church has suggested that at our core, we are sinners, not good. We’re destined to mess up. Jesus never said that. He believed in everyone – tax collectors and Pharisees. He believed everyone had something positive to contribute to the community and because he believed it, people could believe it of themselves. He saw their hearts. He sang their song. He called them back to themselves.
I talk to lots of social workers on your behalf these days. The usually have hard stories to tell me about people who need just a little help to start a new path. I never hear one of them criticize a person for falling on hard times. I never hear judgement about a person’s health or choices or need to ask again and again. They believe in folks. When they ask, if we have money, we help. It’s usually a long list of things we’ve done in a week. The money we give people isn’t often a lot, but it makes a huge difference. Even more important than the money is the fact that we believe in them. If a case worker tells us someone needs help, we believe them. We don’t ask for further verification or remorse or promises of change. We ask that they have a case worker who can help them learn new skills as appropriate. But we believe that everyone deserves help. That’s what it means to be in community.
There’s a Buddhist practice that teaches people how to overcome judgement or condemnation of others and to extend care to ourselves and all people. It’s called metta or loving kindness and we’ve used it before in worship. I’d like us to take a few minutes to remember the practice again. We want to extend nonjudgemental good wishes, that everyone will have whatever it is that is good for them.
Begin by taking a deep breath, closing your eyes if that’s comfortable, and letting any stress fall away.
Picture yourself and say in your mind: May I be happy. May I be whole. May I have purpose. May I be at peace.
Now picture someone you love: And now someone you find very difficult to love. And now all people in the world.
It’s easy for judgement to creep into our mind throughout the day, as we drive around, do our work, listen to the news, interact with family. Next time you notice yourself thinking about another person with criticism, stop just a few seconds and say in your heart: May you be happy. May you be at peace. We can train ourselves to live in this world as Jesus did, and we’ll all be better for it.