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"Me? Follow?"
June 9, 2002, Rev. Melanie Silva
Matthew 9:9-13; 18-26 Isaiah 40:28-31They sit there, hunched over the table, counting money. Their depth of concentration is reminiscent of a current ad for one of the fast food eateries: Don't bother me, I'm counting. Oblivious to outside distractions, they count their coins and put them into the money rolls to take to the bank for the daily deposit. The air is polluted with the smell of the money; no bantering conversation here, full of delight at the collected funds. Rather, the air is laden with the sweat and toil of those who unwillingly paid their money to these counters…the tax collectors.
No ordinary toll takers, these. They work for the enemy: they collect not what is necessary but rather they collect what is necessary for them to live the good life-and then turn over to the stated the required taxes.
These toll takers oppressed their own people, and were backed by the power of the occupying government. (1) If you ever wanted people to accept you-you stayed away from these folks.
And into this room steps Jesus. We can imagine the surprise of the counters at the interruption of their important work; we can imagine them sitting there, as one by one, they looked up in amazement at this unusual intrusion.
No greeting. No small talk. No reprimand. Just Jesus, addressing one of the wealthy and despised collectors with the words: "Follow me." And-amazing! "Matthew rose and followed him."
The scene is immortalized by the great Italian painter, Carravaggio, in his masterpiece-aptly named- "The Calling of St. Matthew." The counters are depicted as a group of utterly common, rather rough contemporary Italian merchants, bent over a counting table. Through the suddenly open door there comes a shaft of light. Across the canvas, we see the outstretched hand of Jesus…and the upturned face of Matthew. Look closely at the masterpiece and you will see Matthew pointing to someone else at the table-as if to say…surely you don't mean me: take him.
Unfortunately for Carravaggio, the church commissioning the work refused to pay him for his efforts because the subjects weren't dressed in biblical robes and tunics, but rather in everyday, contemporary Italian dress. "It doesn't look religious," the critics asserted. The painter replied, "Our Lord loved and called to him the common people. That is the Lord I paint."(2)
Into this room steps Jesus. (choir: and Jesus, Lord Jesus, is in this very room)
And he says,"Follow me." And before you point to someone else because you think you are not worthy or there is nothing you can do, let me tell you the story of seven-year-old Steven Maness of Benton, Kentucky.
When he heard about the attacks of September 11, he told his parents he wanted to give a toy to the children who lost their parents in the tragedy. He started a toy drive to gather Fisher Price "rescue heroes" (action figures representing firefighters, paramedics, police officers); with the help of his parents, he recruited local businesses, his elementary school, local fire departments and several churches. A nearby Mattel toy plant heard about Steven's mission and allowed him to purchase more than 300 figures at a discount.
Steven sent 415 action figures plus $500.00 to the children of New York and Washington, D.C. Included with each toy was a letter from Steven. "I pray for you every night before I go to bed."(3)
Into this room steps Jesus.(choir: and Jesus, Lord Jesus, is in this very room)
And Jesus said, "Follow me." It has always intrigued me, this Gospel passage for today. No questions here about where they were going or when they would get there…just this cryptic note… "And Matthew rose, and followed Jesus." I don't know about you, but when I get in the passenger seat, I want to know where I am being taken.
William Willimon, Chaplain of Duke University, tells of a trip he took with one of his children. They turned down one country road after another, in search of a prized fishing place. Pretty soon the conversation turned to the inevitable: Is this trip going to be worth the effort? "We're on quite a journey," Willimon said. "No," corrected the child; "we're on an adventure." "What's the difference?" Explained the child: "A journey is when you know where you are going. An adventure is when you don't know where you are going but you go anyway."
In her recently published book, A Stockbridge Homecoming, Penelope Starratt Duffy tells of her missionary parents serving in China. Like all missionaries around the world, they served in whatever spot and whatever danger they find themselves-in this case, China during the Communist revolution. Concerned for the safety of his family, Mr. Starratt eventually sent his wife and daughters to safety in Hong Kong. As time passed, he and other missionaries were in grave trouble in China and the rest of the family had their own significant problems in Hong Kong. In the end, there was a desperate run for freedom and extraordinary acts of courage by family, friends and strangers.
"These are not extraordinary people," Starratt recounts. "They are simply everyday folk who have given their lives in a way that really counts…there is only one thing that truly abides and that is love." You see, it really doesn't matter if you are seven and collecting toys or working to keep people safe who flee their homeland because of dangerous oppression…it doesn't matter where we go or what we do because we are on an adventure and…
Into this room steps Jesus. (choir: And Jesus, Lord Jesus, is in this very room)
And He says, "Follow me." Follow me…and see what really matters. Follow me…and do something…but what, you ask? The answer is really quite elementary: we are called simply to follow with our feet…into courts, slums, hospitals, schools, our homes…wherever it is that we think hear the voice most clearly. (4) (adapted)
And so we follow with our feet to see like Jesus, to be like Jesus, to love like Jesus. Because, you see, God only calls us to be who we are. She was a self-possessed, unassuming, quiet women, the mother of four. On her recent death, one friend noted: "She had no idea of the power she had: that power was love for she loved unconditionally." Each child felt he was the most loved, each friend thought she was the best friend.
By God's gift, our deepest identity is not really to be or to do anything...…but to love. We are, each of us, the uniquely individual container of God's love, in whatever particular context we live. We live to serve that love and give it expression. And we have God's promise that we shall run and not be weary and mount up with wings like eagles and walk and not faint. We are only called to be who we are: the individual container of God's unending, abounding love.
(choir: "In This Very Room")
And Jesus said, "Follow me." To follow Jesus is to answer the call of the voice that you have been hearing, nudging you to life. It is finally answering that still small voice and choosing the adventure of life.
Karen is an active member of the Panther Springs United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. When Karen was pregnant with her second child, her three-year-old son, Michael, began a relationship with his unborn sister by singing to her every night. Night after night, he would sing his new sister a song.
When it came time for Karen to give birth, there was trouble during the delivery and the baby was immediately rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at St. Mary's Hospital in Knoxville, Tennessee. As the days crawled by, the infant grew weaker. The pediatric specialist told the family it looked very grave for the little girl and began to prepare them for her expected death.
During the baby's stay in ICU, Michael continually asked about his little sister; he wanted to sing to her. At the beginning of the second week, they dressed Michael in an oversized scrub suit and took him into the unit to see his sister. The medical personnel told Karen he was not allowed in the unit and Michael was asked to leave. His mother protested and stood her ground: "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister." Michael made his way over to the bassinet that held his sister and began to sing the song he had sung to her every night: (soloist from back of sanctuary):
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear how much I love you: Please don't take my sunshine away."
The next day, when they thought they would be planning a funeral, they took Michael's sister home. She had responded immediately to the familiar, loving voice of her brother, calling her to life.
And into this room steps Jesus. And He says "You'll never know how much I love you; come, follow me."
Footnotes
1. Lectionary Homiletics June 2002 Page 9
2. Pulpit Resource April-June 1996Page 41
3. As told in Interpreter May 2002 page 21
4. Homiletics April-June 1996 page 41, adapted