6-9-96	"And They Laughed At Him"	Genesis 12:1-9

Romans 4:13-25

Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

Some day I am going to write a book with the title, "But, I Say Unto You." The title of such a book would be in reference to what Jesus told those who believed such a thing as "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." Remember what he said to those people? He said, "But, I say unto you . . . turn the other cheek." How rediculous that must have sounded to most of the people living in Jesus' day!

In fact, it sounds kind of rediculous to people of this day, as well. If someone hurts you, it is considered appropriate behavior to at least defend yourself. The person who turns the other cheek, the person who keeps letting the person who hurts him/her continue in that pattern of behavior is considered by most popular standards to be a pushover, a sissy, a scardy-cat, yellow, a laughing stock. And no one wants to be any of these things, especially a laughing stock! No one wants to be thought of as rediculous. And, yet, that is what many people living in Jesus' day thought about Jesus' teachings. They held to a set of beliefs that were called "The Law of Moses," a set of rules that had become a rut they had followed for about a thousand years. Yes, the law of Moses had become a rut. So, when Jesus came along with his teachings about love and forgiveness and grace and healing, he would remind the people of what the Law said. And then he would turn to them and say, "But, I say unto you . . ." And very often what he had to say seemed amazing, a bit off the deep end, radical, hard to believe, difficult for the average person to accept, and yes, even laughable. People laughed at him.

Now, there are some things that I do that are laughable, sometimes. I mean, the other day I was thirsty. So, I went to Wendy's, went in and bought a medium Coke, then went back out to my car, put the drink on the roof so I could get my keys, unlocked the door, got into the car, and drove away. I guess I had gone about a block before I realized that I had left my drink on the roof of the car! Laughable?! Yes! But, what was even more amazing was that when I stopped to check on the condition of my Coke, there it was, right where I had put it, without a drop spilled! Yes, that was laughable, too. But, then, it is usually very nice to be able to get that last laugh in.

Our gospel lesson for today, finds Jesus doing some things that were indeed scorned with laughter by the religous righteous of his day. The first thing we see Jesus do is ask a man called Matthew, a tax collector, to be his disciple. In those days the religious righteous could not conceive of a holy man doing such a thing. In Israel, tax collectors were dispicable people, because they were agents of Rome. The Romans had been occupying Israel for generations and were hated for their laws, arrogance, customs and language. Anyone who was a tax collector was despised in many ways. So, what did Jesus do? He made one of them his disciple. What a way to start out your ministry!

And, yet, that is exactly what Christ often asks those of us who have chosen to be his disciples. We're asked to love the unlovable. We're asked to accept those every one else, including those who the religious righteous, reject. But, of course, times have changed. Society's rejects have changed a little bit, too. People in Jesus day, hated tax collectors and wouldn't have anything to do with them. But, today, we may not like the IRS, but people who work for the IRS don't usually find themselves shunned or despised in the communities where they live. And, in fact, I've found that county clerks are usually pretty nice people, even if they are in charge of collecting property taxes. Today, instead of keeping away from tax collectors, righteous people prefer to stay away from people with AIDS, and people who are gay, and the homeless, and drug users, and alcoholics, and the like. "Stay away from the sinners," was the motto of the Pharisees, the religious-righteous, of Jesus' day. And, yet, our gospel lesson for this morning, whether we like it or not, says that these were the very people who came and sat down with Jesus and his disciples. And the Pharisees laughed at Jesus and asked his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with such people?" And Jesus replied, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick." And then he told them, "Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice,' For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners."

The problem in many of today's churches that they all too often set themselves up to be the defenders of righteousness while forgetting that Jesus calls us to love and even eat with sinners. Too many well-meaning Christian churches act more like the Pharisees to whom Jesus said again and again, "But I say unto you!" How can we forget that the church is the very place sinners should be? For, indeed, sinners need Jesus! Sinners need to know the forgiving love of Jesus! Sinners need to know that God loves them! Sinners need to be made aware that there is a place of gentle rest near to the heart of God. Sinners need to hear the good news. But, how can they hear it, unless we invite them continually, constantly, regularly, into this place? How can they hear it if we choose to protect our worship services from such people? How can they hear it if unless we make our church sinner-friendly?

I want you to take a look at the bulletin. Some people have asked me, "Pastor, why is it that we have the Lord's Prayer, and the Doxology, and the Gloria Patri printed in the bulletin? We know the Lord's Prayer! And, we've sung the Doxology and the Gloria Patri since we were babies. So, why do we have it in the bulletin? Do you think we've forgotten it?" Of course not! I know that most of you know these things. But, I also know that there are many who may visit this church for the first time and may not know these things. And I want to make them feel welcome, just as I am sure you do, as well. It isn't enough to be friendly to the visitors who may come to our church. We have to be accomodating, as well.

But, our Gospel lesson goes on. It says that while Jesus was saying these things, in came a ruler who knelt down at Jesus feet and cried, "My daughter has just died; but just come and lay your hand on her and she will live."

Laughable!? Not really, unless you were a Pharisee, a member of the religious- righteous. After all, who did this "ruler" with the dead daughter think he was? If he was a ruler, he was in league with the Romans. So, he couldn't be one of God's people! He couldn't be one of us! And if he isn't one of us, God won't help him. But, here he comes, begging Jesus to raise his daughter from the dead! Laughable? And object of scorn? Yes. Unless you are Jesus. For at the man's request, Jesus immediately went with the ruler to find the daughter who had died.

But, not only that, on the way out, Jesus even healed a woman of a hemorrhage. All she had to do was touch the fringe of his prayer shawl and she was healed. All she needed was faith. No big rituals. No magic words. No fervent prayers. No shouting or moaning. She was just healed, that's all. Rediculous? Laughable? To some, maybe. In fact, in order to touch Jesus, the woman broke the Law of Moses regarding cleanliness. To the religious- righteous it was wrong that a woman in her condition even touch a man, because doing so would make him unclean. But do you think Jesus worried about that? No. He just said to her quietly, confidently, "Your faith has made you well."

You know, folks today aren't all that different from folks living back then. We're just as concerned about following proper procedures as they were, especially when it comes to doing something that might take us out of our comfort zone. How often have good, decent citizens searched frantically through the housing codes in order to keep the group home or the half-way house from moving into their neighborhood? How often have those who wave the flag of decency searched the by-laws in order to keep the youth from having a dance? How often have those who have been called to follow Jesus, to welcome, love and eat with sinners, been gratefully saved by the bell of procedure?

Thank God Jesus didn't care about procedures when he died on the cross for us. He couild have looked at us all and said, "You're all a bunch of worthless sinners! According to procedures, I not supposed to die for you! I don't have to die for you!" But he didn't say that! Thank God, love took the place of procedure! Thank God, Jesus broke the Law, became the end of the Law, and died for you and me!

But, our Gospel lesson continues. It says that when Jesus got to the ruler's house, he saw everybody there, getting ready for the funeral. I mean, the flute players were there, and we are told that there was a crowd there making a tumult. In my imagination, I wonder what that means. What could have made a tumult? Well, maybe five different undertakers had arrived at the same time and were fighting over who would get the body. Or, maybe because hundreds of people wanted to get on the ruler's good side, each wanted to be the first one to give their condolences to the ruler. Or, maybe it was just the custom of the people of those days to go crazy and create an uproar when someone died.

We do that today, as well, don't we? Tumults and uproars are something that we see a lot of in our society. If there's not a riot over here, there's a strike over there. If there's not a protest up the street, there's a drive-by shooting downtown. If some public official isn't getting fired over in that town (last week) for something nobody can remember (today), then it is some uproar going on over in that town over something else that no one will remember next week. If it isn't this big issue that's grabbing our attention this year, it will be next year's big issue, for sure. Why are we like that? Why do we keep on doing it? Is it because righteous indignation feels good? Are uproars habit forming? Can a person become addicted to tumults? Can you really get a rush from the endorphines that the brain produces when you think you've got a right to be angry at some one or some thing? Maybe.

But, let us remember who Jesus is. He may have chased the money changers out of the temple with a whip, but he was also the one who turned to the raging wind and the mountainous waves and said, "Peace be still." He may have called Herod a fox, but he was also the one who silenced the rage of demons countless times. And, likewise, as Jesus entered the house of the ruler and saw the tumult of the people there, he told them to get out . . . "For the girl is not dead," he said, "but sleeping." What were his exact words to those folks who were making such an uproar? It was this: "Depart; for the girl is not dead but sleeping."

Now, it is interesting what the response of the people was at this point. Do you remember what it was? The next five words tell it all: "And they laughed at him." That's right. They laughed at him. They didn't think he could do it. The girl had been dead for at least an hour. And, besides, her parents didn't deserve such a miracle. It wasn't in the plan. The procedures didn't allow for it. No one had ever done it that way before.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? The voices of faithlessness are the same today as they were back then. The voices of doubt, of doom and gloom, of words of ridicule meant to bring on paralysis and promote stagnation are no different now. But, there's something that we shouldn't forget; something that should always be in our head and in our heart. It's this: Satan may laugh, the powers of stagnation and decay may laugh, the forces of selfishness and false pride may laugh, but Jesus always has the last laugh. He had the last laugh with Mary Magdalene on Easter Sunday following the resurrection. He had the last laugh with the disciples that night with the disciples in Emaus. He had the last laugh with the disciples at Pentecost. And he shares that last laugh with us whenever we put our faith to work and believe, and act, and love, and serve, and proclaim, and witness, and eat with sinners, and welcome the outcasts and tired and weary and downtrodden into our midst in Jesus name.

Jesus has the last laugh with that little girl. For the scriptures tell us that after he sent the uproar out, he knelt down, took the little girl by the hand, and the little girl arose. Suddenly, the only laughing was laughing for joy. Suddenly, the only tumult was one of praise to God.

What are we going to do the next time God comes into our lives and confronts our procedures, our plans, our stagnation, our paralysis, our pain, our excuses, and our sin? What are we going to do when Jesus takes our reluctance to love and says to us, "But, I say unto you. . ."? Laugh? Start an uproar? Or give him a hand, and confess in the brokenness of our hearts that Jesus Christ is Lord?

Amen.