The Associations of Jesus
The Hard Sayings of Jesus • Sermon • Submitted
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· 5 viewsJesus determined his associations intentionally, according to his purpose.
Notes
Transcript
Introduction
Introduction
What’s your mission in life?
I know that is a difficult question, one we seldom give much thought to. But it is essential.
And here is a harder one. Does your life match that mission? Does everything you do reflect an intended purpose in your life?
What do you do? Not do?
Where do you go and not go?
Who do you associate with, and who do you not?
Now, again, the question is, “why?”
Michaelangelo, the great Renaissance artist, made some of the great masterpieces of history. Someone asked him what was the secret to his creative ability, especially with sculpture. He replied, “The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.”
It’s that “superfluous” material that gets us. So much of life is trivial, accidental, and unthinking.
In today’s lesson, Jesus is confronted with a question about his mission, his priorities. At first blush, we know it is true, but then you wonder how valid it really is when you ponder it.
Simply put, where did Jesus put his attention?Discussion
The Background
The Background
Let’s dip into a single day in the life of Jesus, one that Mark records in the second chapter of his gospel.
And as he passed by, he saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him.
And as he reclined at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were reclining with Jesus and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
It was a turning point in Levi’s life, or as we know him better…Matthew. We don’t know how he became a tax collector. Was it greed or need? Either will drive a man into situations he might regret later.
He was one of those Jewish turncoats. A Jewish entrepreneur struck a deal with the devil in the early days of the Roman conquest of Palestine. He could collect taxes on behalf of the new government. It was a dirty job no one wanted to do. But, it could be lucrative. The Romans cared nothing about how much was collected as long as Rome got her cut. So, a new profession came to life—the publican or tax collectors.
While no one likes taxes, for the Jews, it was not the money. It was the treacherous nature of the job. You stole from brethren to benefit the hated conquerer and line your pockets with the money I need to feed my children.
The mangy dog with fleas was more loved than Matthew and his kind.
But Jesus came along and called Matthew. He left his small table and started following Jesus.
He called all of his friends and invited them to a farewell banquet. He wanted them to meet the Master he would not follow, Jesus of Nazareth.
Some did not see anything to celebrate.
The scribes of the Pharisees kept a wary eye on this new teacher. He seemed to break all the rules, and neither did he stay in the lane. Instead, he embraced all the wrong people.
If he was truly worthy, he would join them. Instead, he went to the riff-raff, like Matthew and his kind.
It was not something of simple prejudice. It came from the massive Jewish scaffold of the Talmud. It was huge, 6200 pages detailing how to be a faithful Jew.
It built a fence to keep a Jew from getting close to the cliff of transgression. The pages covered everything from how to wash your hands ceremonially, what to eat and not eat, what you could do on the Sabbath, and what you couldn’t.
It also had a section on the “undesirables” The sinners.
There were two kinds of sinners.
First was the moral sinner. They were easy to spot. They were murderers and thieves. Obviously, they were sinners
But second, was another category of sinner. The man who did not wash his hands in a prescribed manner was as sinful as the thief holding a treasure chest.
Or the man who went one foot too far on the Sabbath was no better than a murderer.
For both, the Pharisees saw “sinner” tattooed on their souls.
They expected something from all the great teachers of the time. To respect the rules.
But Jesus didn’t. He was at this banquet with the “sinners and tax collectors.”
In another instance, Luke records, we hear it whispered loud enough for all to hear. Jesus was at another banquet. This time his host was a Pharisee named Simon, someone it appears had leprosy cleansed by Jesus and saved from exile.
A woman came into the room, a woman in the streets. Some call her a prostitute, but that’s our interpretation, not Luke’s rendering. She poured oil over his feed and bathed his feet with her hair.
Simon was appalled. He turned to those around him and said:
Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.”
There’s that word—sinner. Jesus and the sinners...what was up with him? Why did he touch the untouchable and eat with the unworthy?
It was not a question of curiosity that formed the question. Instead, it was judgment.
So they mingled with the disciples of Jesus to question this teacher’s integrity, who violated all that Jews held dear.
Jesus’ Audience
Jesus’ Audience
They tugged the sleeves of some of his followers and backed them into a corner.
And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
The question came with a pointed finger and accusation. How can he say he is a man of God if he sullies himself with these associations?
Jesus heard them. It was not a time to ignore their deliberate dullness. It was time to get them to look at themselves, not the Matthews in the room.
And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
Jesus chose his words carefully.
Well and sick? Who is well and who is sick?
They were simple enough words but could be applied to many things. There was the medical nuance. But hanging in them was a moral sense as well.
If you were well, you are sound. We know that word. You can be sound as a dollar as the doctor says after your physical.
But this word for physical strength could be applied to morality. You are morally strong. And how do you define that? That, the Pharisees thought, was their job.
And then, there is “sick.” It was the sick who came to Jesus—withered hands, lameness, blindness, lepers. They all wanted to be made whole.
That evening they brought to him many who were oppressed by demons, and he cast out the spirits with a word and healed all who were sick.
Yet, again, there is the moral sense of “bad.” When someone does something bad, it’s the same word.
We would never go into an intensive care unit and sit by someone with pneumonia searching for the next breath and say, “they were bad.”
Interestingly, it appears that the Pharisees ignored the physical for the ritual. You were ritually sound or ritually evil. They used a different measure.
And Jesus needed to make that point.
So he asked them to answer this question. Where should he put his time? If he were a doctor, where should he be?
Where do doctors go? Hospitals or country clubs? If you are sick, you don’t want to find him on the 10th hole lining up a putt. You want him running down a hospital hallway when the “stat” call comes.
But he asks a subtle question they don’t want to answer.
Are you sick, or are you well?
If you want me to spend time with you, which category do you put yourself in?
If you are well, why do you need me? But…if you are sick...
It was a revolting question for the Pharisees to consider. They considered themselves sound. Yet, Jesus saw the masks they wore to hide the infected puss of their souls.
The problem is people are always driven by their self-image.
If you think yourself healthy, should you eat the donut or the broccoli? Or is the recliner or the weight rack a better choice?
Most consider themselves friendly, even those who ignore people.
The problem is we don’t see ourselves accurately. We see ourselves as what we want to be but not what we are.
Jesus doesn’t care about touched-up portraits. Take the makeup off and look in the bloodshot eyes in the mirror. That’s who you are.
So he hands them a mirror
He has a simple reason.
They have two choices.
First, if they are sick, then it is time to start taking the prescription he gives them. But the castor oil of truth is hard to swallow for puffed-up hypocrites.
Or…they can stop the criticism. Jesus is doing what they have rejected—making people what God wants them to be. If you refuse to help lift people out of sin, stay away from the emergency room door—you’re blocking the entrance.
But this is not a well-worn takedown of pompous religious types. Jesus slips into church, sits on the back pew. And he asks us the same question.
Which Are We?
Which Are We?
People make up three kinds of patients.
First are those who don’t know they are sick.
I have known people who had cancer growing in them. Some don’t cause pain in the early stages. Quietly it grows.
The tragedy is without warning signs. The tumor grows.
Many people live their lives completely unaware that God has a better life, one that gives meaning and destiny.
They are ignorant. It is only later these people discover their ignorance is not bliss.
The second are those who know they are sick and look for help.
I take after my mother in so many ways. One of those is I have some medical traits that flow from that side of the family tree. My grandmother had cataracts early. While in my 50s, the eye doctor told me, “you have cataracts, and they are growing. They are not bad right now, but when they interfere with your lifestyle, you need to do something about them.” Fine. I’m good.
Until 2 years later, Vickie and I drove to the Galleria early in December to do some Christmas shopping. I turned a corner and ran over the median strip. Then, I turned the next corner and ran over another median strip. At that point, Vickie said, “pull over. I’m driving.”
I went back to the eye doctor. He asked, “does it cause any problems?’ I said, “no, if you don’t mind driving over the medians.” He sent me to a surgeon who took care of my cataracts. Now, I can see all the way to the point of the crash!
I don’t have the experience often, but almost 20 years ago, a young man walked into my office and said, “I need to talk to someone.” He was in his 20’s and was drinking, which was probably the least of his problems. He said, “I need to find out what God wants me to do because what I am doing now is not working.”
He’s rare, but that’s the kind of people who gravitate to Jesus.
But then, there is a third kind of patient. They are the people who refuse to see they are sick, even when they are.
Men, especially, refuse to go for physicals. “I”m not sick.” But one day, they are clutching their chest, panting their last breath.
I had an elder early in my ministry who was a lifelong smoker. I told him once (remember, I was young) that he might want to quit. He assured me that he was fine, and in fact, he had been told that it would kill him to stop smoking. So, he continued, in the face of all evidence to the contrary.
It was growing in him, a growth in his lung. He found it too late. Oh, that’s when he quit smoking, just in time for his funeral.
Some people refuse to see the obvious sin in their lives. They say, “I’m as good as...” and they name people like Hitler or Stalin. They compare themselves to hypocrites. They had godly mothers and names on a church roll somewhere.
And with the question he poses to the Pharisees, he reveals his reasons for his choices.
He only goes to those who know they need him. He doesn’t spend time with those who don’t think they have the need of a savior, only those who are seeking. They flocked to him, demoniacs, Matthews, the leper.
But we would protest, “But don’t the Pharisees need him?” I don’t know. When a person is religious, when they regularly come to church, belong to a small group of Christians, and feel insulated, do they need him? Perhaps, but they don’t think they need him.
A young man came to the great Stoic philosopher Socrates to ask him to teach him wisdom. He asked him to walk with him. They went to the seashore, but Socrates kept walking all the way into the water. Suddenly, the old man grabbed the boy by the hair, shoved his head underwater, and held it there. Quickly, he raised the boy who was gasping.
Socrates asked, “now, what do you want.” Wisdom can the reply.
Socrates again shoved the boy’s head into the water. This scene was repeated.
Finally, after several of these tortuous encounters, Socrates raised the head of the boy and asked him, what is it you want?”
The boy gasped, “air. All I want is air.”
Socrates told him, when you want wisdom as badly as you want air, you will learn.
When we want what Jesus has to give as much as breathing while drowning, then Jesus can be the physician when we realize how sick we are.
Conclusion
Conclusion
Jesus decided to do a simple and profound thing with his life. He would spend time teaching and reaching those who wanted what he had. If you were not responsive, he moved on.
C. T. Studd loved to quote a simple four=-line verse:
Some want to live within the sound
Of church or chapel bell;
I want to run a rescue shop
Within a yard of hell.
The big question this passage raises is not “what about the Pharisees?” It is “what about you and I?”
The only one who can be saved is the man who wants to be saved. How sick are you?
The one most lost is the man who believes he is not. How well are you?
Sick or well…it will make the difference to your response.
Chris Sealy watched his father as he grew up dealing with what the people in his church called “the bad people.” Here is what he remembers:
Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money, so we used to get outfield deck seats (aka “the cheap seats”) to see the baseball games at the [Houston] Astrodome. Most of the people buying the cheap seats did so to save more money for beer. After the first few innings, they were drunk, and by the time the seventh-inning stretch rolled around, there would be beer mixed with peanut shells on the floor, spilled beer down your back, and a brawl two rows over and back to the left. It was ugly out there. As a kid, I learned from a lot people that we were sitting with the “bad people.”
There was one consistent drunk fan named Batty Bob. He was a self-proclaimed Houston Astros mascot. He’d come to all the games wearing a rainbow wig, and he’d lead slurred cheers in the stands. I remember one time my dad went out to sit and talk with Batty Bob. He spent the whole game with Bob, then walked him out to the parking lot to bring him home with us. I was more than confused, because this guy was one of the “bad people.”
When we got home, my dad came to me and explained how God loved Batty Bob. I remember thinking, Really? Batty Bob? And he stayed with us for a few days to get back on his feet. This is when I started to realize that God did not despise these people; he dearly loved them.