Sermon: Who Is Welcome?

Luke 5:17-32; 18:15-27, 35-19:9

Who Is Welcome?

James Sledge                                                                                       February 1, 2015

The headlines about income inequality are everywhere. The Washington Post ran as series last week on how badly the recent recession has hurt black homeowners, pushing many out of the ranks of middle class. I also saw this headline in The New York Times. “Middle Class Shrinks as the Bottom Falls Out.” Accompanying such articles are sobering statistics about how real income has fallen for those making the least even as it surged for those making the most. Some of the stats are startling. By next year one percent of the world’s population will control more than fifty percent of the world’s wealth. Right now, eighty individuals have more wealth than the bottom fifty percent of the world’s population. That’s eighty people with more wealth than 3.5 billion people combined. That’s mind boggling.

One of America’s great claims to fame was the notion of an egalitarian society, one not divided between a small elite and a large underclass. We’ve long cherished the idea that most of us were middle class. That’s never been entirely true, but it is becoming much less so. We are increasingly a society of haves and have nots, with race playing a huge role.

Not that this marks us a particularly onerous on the world stage. Divisions between haves and have nots are the way of the world. It’s been that way throughout history. Even socialist and communist movements with the express goal of ending such divisions have ended up creating glaring inequalities with spectacularly privileged elites and struggling masses.

The Church, too, has tended to mirror such divisions. Bishops and popes have often lived in fabulous luxury. Protestants haven’t typically favored our leaders in this way, but we have tended, to a greater degree than Roman Catholics, to create congregations and denominations of elites and of non-elites, of haves and have nots. Back in the middle of the 20^th century it was a well-worn joke to call Presbyterians “the Republican party at prayer” because of our preponderance of well-educated, well-off movers and shakers. We even require our pastors to have advanced degrees; not like those uneducated Pentecostals and such.

If Jesus returned today, I wonder what church he might choose for such a momentous event. Would he show up at St. Peter’s in Rome? How about Westminster Abby or the National Cathedral in DC, or maybe even our own National Presbyterian Church? Or perhaps Jesus would go for a common touch photo-op and show up at some little country church.

Jesus was certainly a common touch sort of guy, but I wonder if Jesus would show up at any church. After all, when Jesus was on earth the first time, he spent much of his time with folks at the bottom, people who didn’t count, people who were unimportant, people the good church folks wanted nothing to do with. Very often, it was the good church folks who tried to stop Jesus.

I wonder if Jesus might not be a little upset with us in the church for looking so much like the world and so little like him or that new community, the kingdom, that he proclaimed. Our scripture readings today give us a sampling of Jesus modeling this community by hanging out with the wrong folks, making time for the unimportant, even when his disciples insisted he had more important things to do. We see Jesus’ deep compassion for those who are hurting and are at the bottom. We get a glimpse of Jesus completely undermining dichotomies of elite and the masses, of haves and have nots, of important and unimportant.

And while we in the Church often do reach out to help some of the same folks Jesus did, they usually remain separate from us. They remain those folks we help. We are called to be a manifestation of the kingdom, to look like it, but we’re not sure how to embrace those folks as part of our community, our gathering  of well educated, well off, mostly white folks.

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Recently I’ve been following the Facebook posts of Ron Byars, a retired professor of preaching and worship. He’s been highlighting the thoughts of Presbyterian pastors whose congregations have begun celebrating the Lord’s Supper on a weekly basis. This is quite a shift from the Presbyterian Church I grew up in. When I was a child, the industry standard was quarterly communion. Even though John Calvin was adamant on the need for weekly communion, the denominations that sprung from his teachings often ended up celebrating the Eucharist quite infrequently, but this has begun to shift in recent decades.

There are still Presbyterian churches doing quarterly communion, but monthly has become the new norm, and weekly is happening more and more. I think this a most helpful trend because here, perhaps more than anywhere else, we live into God’s new community where none of the dividing lines of the world matter.

We may preach sermons intended to be intellectual and highbrow. We may sing hymns from a fairly narrow repertoire of what we deem good music. There may be all manner of things about us that could make those not like us uncomfortable, but when we come to the table, all are welcome. At the table there is bread and cup. It is not highbrow or intellectual bread. It is not classical or baroque or rap or country. It is not wealthy or poor. It is not any particular race. It is not gay or straight, liberal or conservative, young or old.

Christ’s body is broken for you; God’s grace is given to nourish you, whoever you are. It does not matter what school you go to, what you do for a living, or how much money you have. None of the things that the world thinks important, that get people special treatment or recognition, matter here. They don’t get someone to the front of the line or a bigger piece of bread, for this is the Lord’s table, the same Lord who dined with sinners and outcasts, who had time for children and reached out to those others ignored. It is his table. He is our host, and he refuses to honor to boundaries and divisions that we continue to embrace.

So come to the table, all who hear Christ’s call. Come no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve done or haven’t done, no matter how imperfect you or someone else thinks you are. You are invited and welcome here simply because God loves you so much and longs for you to draw near. Come to the table. Touch and taste God’s love and grace offered for you.

We Make the Road by Walking. The practice begun in Advent continues through summer of 2015. Scripture and sermons will connect to chapters in Brian McLaren’s book. This week’s chapter is 23, “Jesus and the Multitudes.”