Today, we have a story in two parts.
Part one starts when Jesus calls Matthew, a tax collector, to join him as a disciple; and then immediately after, Jesus is eating dinner in Matthew’s house.
Now, you’re thinking: “Hey, Pastor Danny! How do you know it’s Matthew’s house? The story doesn’t say whose house it is…”
We know it is Matthew’s house, because this same story appears in three of the gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—and the other two versions specifically say that this dinner took place in Matthew’s house, that Matthew was the host of the dinner, and that Jesus was there, along with many other tax collectors and other people……
We also know that this was a formal banquet, because of the Greek word used to describe it.
It was an occasion on which invited guests ate a formal meal, then engaged in conversation during the post-meal symposium.
It was one of those events where who you invited was important, and who you sat next to was important, because it was all about maintaining and improving your reputation and social status.
Most people, when they went to a formal banquet like this, did so in the hopes of improving their social position. A primary reason for attending a banquet like this would be to be around people who could help you rise in importance. It was a time to network and schmooze……
While Jesus was at this banquet at Matthew’s house, some Pharisees saw him.
It could be that they just happened to be passing by; formal dining rooms of a house were open to the street. This kept the room from being too warm… and it also made it easy for people passing by (like, perhaps, the Pharisees) to look in and see what was going on, and hear the conversation.
It could even be that these Pharisees were themselves invited to this banquet, but once they saw the guest list, they declined, because, again, who you dined with was important, and the Pharisees did not want to dine with the sort of people (sinners and tax collectors) who were on the guest list for this particular banquet.
But they still wanted to see for themselves; they couldn’t help it. Would Jesus, who claimed to be a teacher, a rabbi, really dine with those sorts of people?
Sure enough, they saw him sitting there, with those undesirables. They found some disciples who were outside, and asked them: “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
And maybe one of the disciples, who was still new to this “following Jesus” thing, said, “We were kinda wondering the same thing…”
So that’s part one of the story.
In Part Two: A leader of the synagogue arrived, and saw Jesus sitting in the banquet—apparently this leader had been looking for Jesus—and he interrupted the meal to beg and plead with Jesus to come heal his daughter.
How could Jesus say no? So Jesus got up and left the banquet, and followed this leader to his house.
But on their way, before they got there, their journey was interrupted by a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She reached out and touched him, believing that he could make her well.
Jesus stopped. He took the time to heal her. Then he continued on to the synagogue leader’s house.
After this delay, when he finally got to the house, it appeared to everyone that Jesus was too late, and that the girl had died; but Jesus took her by the hand, and the girl got up. She was fine.
And that’s part two of today’s story.
The story of the banquet, and the story of the double healing of both the woman with hemorrhages and the daughter of the synagogue leader: they’re presented together, as one story, here in Matthew’s gospel. These events all took place, it seems, on the same evening.
These stories also appear in Mark and Luke, but in those versions of the gospel, the banquet and the healing of the synagogue’s daughter and the healing of the woman with hemorrhages, are separated by several chapters, implying that they took place on different days.
So, today, my question is: why did Matthew put these stories together, and describe these different events as all taking place on the same day? What connection between these stories is Matthew trying to make?
He must have had a reason for doing so. Luke and Mark keep these two events separate, but Matthew puts them together.
And I think I know why.
Both parts of this story involve interactions with respected, influential leaders. In part one, Jesus is interacting with Pharisees; in part two, he’s interacting with a leader of the synagogue.
(Matthew doesn’t name the synagogue leader, but both Mark and Luke say that his name was Jairus, so I’m going to start calling him Jairus.)
And both the Pharisees, and Jairus the synagogue leader, are used to getting preferential treatment. They all—because of their occupation—expect and usually receive the privileges that go with their high status in society.
The Pharisees, and synagogue leaders like Jairus, were not necessarily bad. They were generally respected by the people; highly regarded, even. Even Jesus refers to them as “righteous.”
But they were people with privilege. They were used to getting preferential treatment, and always going to the front of the line. They had use of a never-ending fastpass, lightning lane, or fastlane.
One thing I try to make myself aware of is the privilege I have: the preferential treatment I receive because of my skin color, or my gender, or my citizenship. That privilege seems so normal, and I’m so accustomed to it, that I don’t always recognize it. Receiving that privilege, that preferential treatment, just feels like what’s normal. It’s what’s expected.
Other people in our society have privilege because of their wealth or their popularity. It’s really hard for someone who owns multiple homes and boats and luxury cars to see how privileged they are, how their privilege has helped them gain their wealth, and how privilege helps them keep their wealth.
And the really privileged ones do expect that easy access to leaders and other influential figures, the movers and shakers in government and business. Government and business leaders always have time to meet with them, while the rest of us can’t even get an appointment.
But notice: that’s not how it works with Jesus. Jesus dines with those who are called “sinners and tax collectors” by the Pharisees. No other leader would give them the time of day, but Jesus associates with them, dines with them, fellowships with them.
And the Pharisees, at least in this story, are on the outside looking in, feeling perhaps a bit resentful that Jesus is choosing to dine with such common people instead of choosing to dine with them.
That’s the sense of entitlement that comes with privilege.
And then the synagogue leader, Jairus, arrives, and Jesus goes with him, because Jauirus’ daughter needs healing. See, it’s not that Jesus doesn’t care about those with privilege; they are in need of healing, too; they also need to be restored to wholeness… in some ways, even more so than others.
But on the way to Jairus’ house, a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years approaches Jesus. She is also looking for healing.
And the twelve years she’s been bleeding connects her to Jairus’ daughter, who is twelve years old. In fact, in this story it seems likely that her bleeding began the moment Jairus’ daughter was born.
What do you think? Is this connection meant to symbolize the way people of privilege and wealth pull resources away from the poor?
Both Jairus and the bleeding woman had seen doctors, but those doctors cost the woman all the money she had, until she could no longer pay for treatment. Jairus, meanwhile, could afford the health care his daughter needed, but in this case, even his wealth and privilege were not enough to heal her.
When the bleeding woman approaches Jesus, he stops, and gives his attention to her.
Can’t you just imagine Jairus getting frustrated, maybe even telling the woman: “Hey! Wait your turn. Jesus has already agreed to come heal my daughter; perhaps when he’s done that, then he can give his attention to you!”
It sounds fair, right? Jairus asked first, Jairus should get Jesus’ attention first…
But Jesus moves this woman who approached him to the front of the line. Jairus’ never-ending fastpass doesn’t work this time.
So: the Pharisees don’t get the preferential access to Jesus that they expected on account of their privilege; and Jairus doesn’t get to use his never-ending fastpass, even though his privilege had always allowed him to use it in the past.
And one can see how this might be upsetting to the Pharisees and to Jairus. How dare Jesus not grant them these privileges.
I think that, for any of us, to have any privilege that we’ve been using all our lives suddenly revoked, would be a hard thing. Probably because we don’t even recognize our privilege as privilege. We don’t see our treatment as preferential, we just see it as normal.
It even feels unfair and maybe even unjust, when those privileges are taken away.
Some white people claim that they are victims of “reverse racism” when they are denied their privilege or preferential treatment. They’re not being discriminated against. They’re just being denied the preferential treatment they’d come to expect; and, to them, it feels unfair.
And some straight people can’t stand the idea of gay pride, because it decenters their straight, cisgender identity. They are used to having that central place in society, but during Pride, those whose sexual orientation and gender identity usually has them pushed off to the side, they take the center.
Pride doesn’t take away the rights of straight, cisgender people. Equal rights and even affirmative action don’t take away the rights of white people.
In the same way, Jesus wasn’t trying to take away rights the Pharisees had; and Jesus wasn’t trying to deny healing to Jairus’ daughter. He was just trying to balance things out, by letting those who had always been last in the world go first for once.
And in both of these stories, we catch a glimpse of how things are in the Kingdom of God.
Those who are condemned by the world, given labels like “sinners,” Jesus embraces. Those who the world condemns to hell, Jesus gives life to. Those who have been told, “move to the back of the line,” Jesus brings up to the front.
Jesus said, “I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners.” Everyone receives healing, everyone receives salvation, but the ones condemned by the world get to go to the front of the line.
In the book of Job, it says that God “shows no partiality to princes and does not favor the rich over the poor, for they are all the work of his hands” [Job 34:19].
In God’s kingdom, those who the world condemns as “sinners” get to experience fully God’s love and grace.
We all will receive healing and wholeness, but those who have been pushed down or to the back will be brought to the front of the line. They’ll be given that lightning lane access.
This is what we’re about at Bixby Knolls Christian Church, or at least, what we’re working to become: a community that lifts up those who have been cast down, and re-rights the social structure that for too long has benefited only a few.
To the sinners, the tax collectors, and anyone else who has ever been told that you don’t belong, our message—the message of Jesus—is that you DO belong, that there is a place at the table for you. Our message is that healing is for you; that grace is for you; that love is for you.
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