The sermon preached by Fr. Ernie on June 11, 2023.

Let me tell you what it meant to be a tax collector in Jesus’ day. To begin, though, I’d like you to try to imagine a history that didn’t happen. I want you to imagine that WWII had ended with a German victory. The Nazi’s had won. They had not only overrun Europe, but invaded England, and crushed Russia. Then as a final blow, they had stormed the United States and defeated us too. It’s a horrible thought isn’t it, but stay with me a moment. Now decades later, the Nazis rule the world, and among all the other nightmares of that picture, the Nazi Empire is now draining the world dry, funneling all the money of those defeated countries back to Berlin in the form of taxes — taxes on everyone and everything. The thing is, they know that whoever actually collects those taxes will be hated, and they are hated enough already, so instead of collecting it themselves, the Nazis hire citizens from the conquered countries to do it, which means that in United States it’s Americans who do it. 

But who would do such a thing? Who would take money from their already starving fellow citizens? Well, as it turns out, many will. This is especially amazing because the Nazi government doesn’t actually pay the tax collectors anything. Instead of payment, it gives them something else. It gives them power, the power to extort extra money for themselves. If the conquering rulers want — say —100 silver coins, the tax collector can choose to demand an extra 50 for himself and no one can stop him. If someone resists, he has people to enforce it.

Of course, in Jesus’ time it was Romans that did this, not the Germans, but still, think about what this meant. To be a tax collector meant that a man was a traitor to his country. He was a collaborator. He was working for the enemy. What is more, he was robbing the people for his own gain. Basically, he was like the mafia, only it was legal. He used muscle to force those with no power to give him what little money they still had. No wonder everyone hated the tax collectors! No wonder the Pharisees were appalled that Jesus would eat with them. If we allow ourselves to think about it, we might even wonder about it too.

In many ways this is the greatest challenge of Christianity, the idea that the only way we can truly be open to God is by being open to all of our other fellow human beings also. And I really do mean allour fellow humans. Loren is entirely correct when he says, as he often does, that when Jesus said, ‘you must love your neighbor, he did not say except for.’  Loren’s right: Jesus included not only those we simply don’t know, but also those who think and act differently from us — those who see the world differently and who act in different ways. He even included those whose actions may appall us.

No one is going to pretend that this is easy, and yet over the years, I’ve noticed that the more convinced I become that God loves me, the easier it becomes for me to accept that God might love people very different from me too. I mean, I know how many flaws I have, how incomplete and broken I am. And yet God loves me anyway. God loves all of us. I feel that. Perhaps it not even that God loves us in spite of our brokenness, but because of it. It’s our brokenness that cracks us open, after all, and makes us cry out to be filled with the gifts God has to give us. And not only that, it is in recognizing our own flaws and vulnerability that we are better able to appreciate the vulnerability and need behind the brokenness of others too.

Just think how broken a person has to be to have been a tax collector, for example. Someone must have brutally abused them. In order to do such things a person must have been treated very cruelly indeed. There’s an old saying that “hurt people hurt people,” and it’s true. You have to have been hurt very badly to be willing to hurt others in the way some people do. And yes, such people are sinners — and it’s true that there are some who turn so fully away from God that I wonder if they ever get back. There are people who truly are all but impossible to love, violent sociopaths, for example. The thing is, even if we ourselves cannot love them, we need to recognize that God loves them. God just sees something in them that we do not. God weeps for them in their utter brokenness and weeps too for the terrible pain they cause others, and yet God continues to love them. This is what Jesus did with the tax collectors. He continued to love them even in their sinfulness and by loving them, he healed of them.

You see, that’s mystery. That’s the grace. Love heals what’s broken. One of those tax collectors was Matthew, after all, the man that our tradition says wrote this very gospel.

The question is, can we love such people too, love them even in their brokenness? We can try. We can do that by recognizing that most people are doing the best they can, and valuing them for that. Even if we can’t actually approve the choices they are making, we can still look for the good in them, knowing that it is there somewhere, and we can applaud and affirm anything that we find there.

Affirm the good! Affirm the good! We need to affirm the good! We need to do that whenever and however can!

In fact, just last Sunday I witnessed a moving example of what that can look like. The day before, I had been talking to Colby during the Ladies Luncheon and she mentioned that there was a Pow Wow of Native American tribes at Mt Madonna that weekend. The gathering was open to the public, and she planned to go after church the next day. Intrigued, I decided to go too.

Having no idea what to expect, I asked directions from the Park ranger and then drove back through the winding roads, deeper and deeper into the park. As I drew closer I began to see hand-lettered signs that said, “Honoring the Elders,” with a arrow pointing ahead. “That must be it,” I thought, “but what a wonderful name for it, ‘honoring the elders.’ What a thought, that someone would actually honor their elders. This I have to see. How will they do it?”

Finally, I found the place and was directed into a parking lot. Colby and Penelope were there too. Together we walked over to the gathering which turned out to be a large circle with branches for shade, open in the center. Around the circle were booths of people selling food, jewelry, hand-made clothing and other items. People sat in lawn chairs under the shade of the circle of branches and watched what was happening in the center. There, person after person was brought forward and introduced as an elder. Most were older, but not everyone. Some were introduced as “young elders.” None of these elders spoke for themselves. Instead, someone stood beside them, and spoke for them, often with a hand on their shoulder.

         “This is John, an elder,” one man began. “I owe him so much. He taught me all I know. He showed me how to be strong. He gave me my eagle feather. He taught me how to find myself, and to be the person I am. He helped me to discover what I have to offer so that I can serve others and be who I was meant to be. He taught me to be a warrior and see life not as paved with difficulties but strewn with opportunities. John is a gift to me and to our people.”

Speaking slowly and simply the man went on like this, honoring the man named John for who he was, for what he had given to him and to others, and holding him up as a blessing to everyone. Then he simply stopped. Many were nodding, but there was no applause. Instead, the man began to guide John around the circle. There John was greeted with handshakes or nods of gratitude by each person present. And as he did this, the next person stepped forward, “This is Sarah, an elder,” she began. It went on and on.      

This is just what we need too, I thought. We need to honor each person for exactly who she or he is. Of course, St. Stephen’s has an entire community of elders — older elders and younger elders — all of you. Some of our elders are only four years old. This is a whole building of elders, in fact. And every new person who walks through the door is an elder too. Each of us has wisdom to share. Each of us has scars that have taught us what to avoid. Each of us has hurts that we are working to heal. Most importantly though, each and every of us is beautiful, because each and every one of us is a window to God.  

This is what we are, all of us. But everyone else out in the world is this way too. So of course, Jesus welcomed tax collectors. He welcomed everyone. He saw in them what most of us don’t see. But we can see what he saw too, if we just look hard enough. It’s there. We just have to find it. And once we do, we too will want to honor them. We will want to love them. In fact, we won’t be able to do anything else. AMEN

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