June 7, 2026
Pentecost 2
Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
Epiphany, Winnipeg
Jesus has just walked up to a tax collector named Matthew, right out of the blue, and said, “Follow me.” But who wants to be seen with a tax collector, right? Tax collectors collect taxes from the people, and the taxes go to Rome, so that Rome can pay for an army to occupy the peoples’ land. It would be sort of like if someone in Ukraine held a bake sale to raise money for the Russian army. But Jesus calls this tax collector, Matthew, and says, “Come on, follow me.” And pretty soon Jesus is having dinner at someone’s house with a lot of tax collectors and sinners. Sinners? Use your imagination and you’re probably right. Who wants to be seen with a crowd like that?
Apparently there are some Pharisees there as well, and I can’t help but wonder why they’re at dinner too. They could have refused the invitation. Maybe they’re just curious. So they ask one of Jesus’ friends, “Why does your teacher eat with sinners and tax collectors?” Jesus overhears the question, so he invites himself into the conversation and answers by quoting an ancient prophet: “God wants mercy, not sacrifice; God wants steadfast love, not getting all the rules right.” And then he says that he’s come to call tax collectors and sinners.
I can imagine that what he really wants to say is, “I eat with tax collectors and sinners because tax collectors and sinners are more fun.” They’re way better company at the table than someone who’s always just trying to point out what’s wrong with everyone else.
Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners. And it’s those ones whom nobody loves or everybody fears, who Jesus holds up and says, “these are my kind of people.” And the walls that get put up to make divisions between people or to mark off the good from the bad just start to crumble and fall away.
We can be so divided along all kinds of lines that define who’s good and who’s bad, who’s on my side and who’s on your side. And Jesus comes along, eats with tax collectors and sinners, and takes his place with all the people on the wrong side of the line or the wrong side of the tracks.
If you are one of the ones who is like those tax collectors and sinners, feeling unloved or feared or judged or avoided, it might just be really good news to hear that Jesus wants to be with you. Wants to call you along, wants to be where you are, wants to eat with you. Wants to call me along, wants to be where you are, wants to eat with us…
What if none of us need to worry ourselves about trying to be good enough and have our act together all the time? What if we could just stop that, any of us can just stop that, because Jesus like to hang around with people who just can’t hold it together all the time.
Back in the fall of 1984 I was just out of university, living in Edmonton with a few friends, working a thrilling job at a restaurant, playing in a band that we all hoped would go somewhere, and figuring out what life look like when life was not school. I had grown up being a nice kid in Calgary, always kind of clean-cut and staying out of trouble, but now I was done university and living somewhere else and trying to carve out my own space in the world. One of my roommates and I were quite into punk rock, and as much as I liked and do like the music I wanted even more to have the look. I thought maybe I’d like to have more and weirder piercings, and I’d like to have the hair – maybe all spiky, maybe a mohawk, maybe shave it off altogether, anything to make myself look more edgy…out there…
I wanted the look, but to be honest I was kind of scared to have the look. But I really wanted the look.
My friend and I both knew the drummer for one of Edmonton’s most popular hardcore punk bands. He and is bandmates lived in a run-down two-story inner-city house, and our friend invited us over one Friday night because they were having a concert in their living room. You know, as one does. They had an old van that the four of them and all their gear would crowd into to travel around to gigs, and there was something wrong with the steering. Since being a punk band in Edmonton was not all that lucrative, they didn’t have any money to get the van fixed, so they set up their gear at one end of the living room, invited two other bands to play as well, and then invited a whole bunch of their friends to come over for a living room concert at only five dollars each.
So we went to the big show. I really wanted to look the part of a punk, whatever that was supposed to be, so I did my best with what I had, and arrived at the house feeling kind of excited, nervous, self-conscious, and hoping I'd fit in.
It was really loud.
What I soon found out was that nobody cared how I looked. I just remember feeling welcomed by all kinds of friendly people, and ignored by some. People just wandered by to say hello, sometimes we hollered small talk and tried hard to hear each other over the music. We all swayed gently to the soothing sounds. Well, not that. There was other kind of moving. Some of the people looked the part you might expect at a punk show in a run down house, and some of the people did actually look the part of someone who might have just finished a week of law school and were going to their friends’ house to blow off a little steam. I guess one of us looked the part of someone trying to look the part. There were people there who would return to a comfortable middle-class home when the evening was over, and there were people there who had been kicked out of their homes because home just didn’t understand. And in this house, it kind of felt like people at home with each other.
My memory tells me that at some point in between sets, the lead singer of one of the bands came and said hi, introduced themself, wondered if I was new to the city and the scene. “It’s good to meet you, thanks for coming, have fun.” It was nothing much, just a friendly encounter and a welcome.
As I look back at that evening now, I remember a house full of people where nobody really needed to look a certain way, and any kind of misfits or non-misfits, even someone fresh out of university figuring out where to fit in, could find a place there and feel at home.
The house wasn’t a perfect place, and the community who gathered there had the same glitches and strains that any community, even a church, has. My friend who lived there made that pretty clear. But more than anything, what I remember is stepping through the door and finding out that I didn't have to prove anything or be punk enough or bad enough or cool enough or anything enough. I didn't have to work to belong. I thought I had to dress a certain part but found out right away that I didn’t even need to do that. A punk show in a living room was a gift for me. Forty years later I look at that as one of those really gracious places I’ve been, where there was room for everyone and people were just glad that you were there.
Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners? Well, tax collectors and sinners may be more fun, I don’t know. Tax collectors and sinners might just be more interesting. I’m guessing that Jesus might have been kind of relieved to eat with tax collectors and sinners, because they won’t hound him with endless questions about who belongs in the kingdom of heaven and who doesn’t, and nobody’s going to say things like, “If you are the son of God, then prove it,” and so on.
Maybe part of the point is also that if it’s so important to figure out which ones are tax collectors and sinners, it won’t be long until you think that everybody is a tax collector and a sinner, and you end up eating alone.
Or maybe we are all tax collectors and sinners. And Jesus happily pulls a chair up to the table and says, “Could you pass me the salt, please? What should we talk about now?”
We started the day by welcoming Joseph into the Body of Christ. We listened while God spoke through water and word and said that Joseph belongs and Joseph will always belong. And God said, “Joseph, I will never stop loving you, and I will always enjoy your company at the table.”
Joseph, I know that you can’t understand me, but I’ll say now that we are glad you’ve been gathered in here with us. You will find that we are not perfect. You will find that you are not perfect. But you’ve been given a Spirit today, the same Spirit we’ve all been given, all over the world and for longer than you can imagine. We’ve been given the Spirit of Jesus, who said, “You know, I enjoy the company of imperfect people.” We’ve been given the Spirit of Jesus, who died and who is risen so that we will rise every new day, imperfect people with an always fresh start. Welcome, Joseph, welcome all, to this life that is always new. Welcome Joseph, welcome all, to this table where Jesus eats with us. Welcome, Joseph, welcome all, to this imperfect Body of Christ, that is so perfectly loved by God.