Sometime ago Sydney Harris, the syndicated columnist, wrote a "fascinating piece about Anita Bryant that I would like to read to you this morning. As you know, Anita Bryant was a self-appointed crusader against gay rights a few years ago. Then she went through a divorce, and acquired a drug habit, and was hospitalized for a long time. And today, she's not the same person she was back then.
This is what Sydney Harris wrote: He said, "Now that her world has come unstuck, and she is beginning to reglue it, I feel free to point out that she is a better person than when she was so busy being a 'good person.' Sometimes we have to fall from grace to know what grace really is... She sounds like a person who has lived and loved and suffered now, and not a radiantly smiling face on a candy box encased in velvet and wreathed with roses and totally insulated from the realities of life. A bad marriage almost wrecked her, but it also saved her, because she grew rather than shrank and expanded her range of sympathies rather than shrivel into self-pity.
The Lord, we are told, works in mysterious ways, and I believe it. Sometimes being dragged into the depths is the only way we glimpse a vision of the heights, being desperate and disconsolate and defeated is the only way we redeem ourselves from pride and self-satisfaction. In pain, Miss Bryant is starting to be a Christian now, which she only thought she was before."
And then these words: "The visible church may have lost a militant member, but the invisible church has gained a new soul. The moral majority may be frowning, but the Eternal Majority must be rejoicing that she has put down the frosty glass of orange juice and picked up the warm chalice of charity." (Norman Neaves, "Come as You Are", February 16, 1986).
Well, whether you agree with Mr. Harris' assessment or not, the point is well taken. In the human family, even the most exalted is not much different at the core of being than the lowliest. And in the Christian community, especially, pretension and self-righteousness sooner or later is exposed for the phoniness it is, and hopefully we come to the point where we all drink from the "warm chalice of charity" and acceptance.
That fact raises the question of the sermon today: "Who Needs a Physician?". That's the overarching question: "Who needs a Physician?" The way we are going to answer it is to simply state some facts from our scripture lesson -- major facts that stand out -- and allow those facts to determine other questions and shape our reflections.
I.
The first fact of Scripture: Levi made a great feast in his house and invited a large company.
That's a beautiful picture isn't it? Levi was so excited. His conversion gave him a love and concern he never had before. He wanted to celebrate that. But not only so, he invited persons whom he wanted to introduce to Jesus to celebrate with him. He had a desire for them to experience what he had experienced.
Now out of that fact, I ask you two questions:
One, have you ever had any sort of religious experience that was worth celebrating?...that caused you to want to throw a party? Maybe you can deal with it better if I ask you, "How do you celebrate your religious experiences?", or, "Is celebration a part of your spiritual expression?"
It's worth thinking about isn't it? Have you ever noted how much of the gospel has to do with parties and celebrations? When the Prodigal Son came home, the father wanted to celebrate so he threw a great party. When the woman who had lost her coin found it, she invited her neighbors to come in and celebrate with her. When the shepherd went out into the wilderness to find the one lost sheep that was lost, on finding that sheep and returning home he shouted out to his neighbors that he had found the sheep that was lost and he invited them to celebrate with him.
There's a great deal of celebration in the Scripture. In fact, according to the Book of Revelation, when Christ comes again and history is drawn to a close, there is going to be a great marriage feast in the Kingdom. Christ the Groom, and His bride, the Church will be united and we will all sit at the banquet table of joy and celebration.
Is there anything in your life worth celebrating? Are you celebrating it?
That brings me to a second question. Has a person been genuinely converted by the Grace of Christ if he does not in consequence have a desire that others be converted also? Now that's a rhetorical question that we shouldn't be too quick to answer. It's a question for reflection more than to answer. Has a person been genuinely converted if he or she does not, as a result of that experience, have a desire that others be converted also?
Not only was Levi celebrating the fact that he was converted, he was using that occasion to bring people together in order that they might meet Jesus also. Just think about it. How deep is your desire for others to experience what you have experienced in Jesus Christ? If that desire is not deep and if you're not doing anything about it, you might follow up with other questions: How real is my experience with Christ? Do I feel the depths of forgiveness to a point that I want to share the possibility of that forgiveness with others.
II.
Now a second fact of Scripture. The Pharisees murmured against Jesus and His Disciples because they were attending Levi's party. That raises questions about how we practice our faith, and how the faith is transferred, communicated, one to the other.
The Pharisees and their Biblical experts criticized Jesus and His Disciples for attending the dinner. They thought that to identify in this way with sinners was to condone their sins--but also in some sense to discredit Jesus. Now it may have been that had the Pharisees attended such a dinner they might have been condoning the sin. You see, they had no Gospel; they were not in touch with Christ's power of forgiveness, and His power to convert sinners. They were not identifying with Jesus as the great physician.
It's interesting that Jesus' call of Levi and this encounter with the Pharisees is set in a chapter of Mark where he talks about Jesus' healing ministry. He tells two specific healing stories. In Mark 1 he tells the story of the healing of a leper. It's one of the most beautiful stories in the Scripture. A man full of leprosy--that most awful of all diseases in New Testament times--saw Jesus and fell on his knees and said to Him, "Lord, if you will, you can make me clean". And immediately Jesus stretched out His hands and touched the leper. I like that. He didn't keep His distance from the leper -- He didn't even draw back a little. In fact, He moved to the leper, laid His hands upon him, and said, "I will -- I will heal you -- be clean". And immediately the fellow was made well.
The second story that is told begins in Mark chapter 2. It is the story of the lame man who was lowered through the ceiling into the presence of Jesus in order that he might be healed. That story is told in verses 1-12 and it's an exciting story. A lame man had some friends. Those friends believed in the healing power of Jesus. So they took their friend to Jesus. Jesus was teaching in a house and the house was full of people and they couldn't get anywhere near. With the ingenuity that an ardent faith can give, those men literally tore a hole through the ceiling of that house and lowered the man into Jesus' presence. What remarkable faith and what a creative expression of faith. As much as any story I know this one is a dramatic example of putting our faith into practice. These men would not be stopped--they would go to any lengths to get their friend to Jesus in order that he might be healed.
Now, with all this healing happening, it was natural for Jesus to use the image of a doctor in response to the Pharisees' criticism about Him and His Disciples eating with sinners. He says it there in verse 31, "Those who are well have no need of a physician".
That focuses the issue. The healthy don't need a doctor, it's the sick who do. And wouldn't it be strange if a doctor thought that he was doing all he could in his work against disease if he simply lectured the healthy on the dangers of disease, and never went anywhere near the sick.
Two things are clear here. One, the Gospel will never make it into the world with its transforming power if we Christians are afraid of getting contaminated. Someone has to run risk. The Church must never become a religious club where the saints are protected.
III
Which brings us to a third fact of Scripture: Jesus had dinner with sinners.
My friend, Len Sweet, President of United Seminary in Dayton, tells of an unforgettable experience he had at an Amy Grant concert at Kings Island in Cincinnati. It was in the midst of the controversy that swirled around her during the summer of 1986 for "crossing over" from Gospel music into the secular market.
All sorts of people had laid into Amy Grant for the outrage of people being able to tune in any radio rock station in the nation and hear her sing about her love for Jesus.
"At the concert, Amy Grant told about songs she was working on, and how her tour was going. But then it became very quiet, and out of the silence she confessed to the pain she was feeling because of all the abuse and derision from her sisters and brothers in Christ. She then visibly straightened up and spoke of her resolve not to listen to it. And then came out these words (so powerful, Len said, that he wrote them down on the spot):
"Some people think I should stand in the light and give my witness. But I believe God has called me to stand in the dark, and there give off my light. I know there is danger in the dark, but God's Word has told me that I'm all right so long as I don't lose sight of the light." (Leonard I. Sweet, "Bibelot", 1990, Vol. 5, No. 3 - 6).
Amy Grant was making herself available to be the Word of God that comes to us wherever we are. But there is another side to this coin. Not only does the Word of God come to us where we are, the Evangelistic task of the church is to go where the people are -- and the witnessing task of the Christian is wherever the Christian is. That's what Amy Grant was saying.
But there's another thing to note here that is easy to miss. In our standing with Jesus in His taking the Pharisees to task, we must not miss the fact that there is such a thing as moral contagion. Recovering alcoholics and other addicts, for instance, know they have to give up some of their favorite friends and some of their favorite places in order to recover. But's it's true in a more general way. Not all Christians are able to go anywhere and run in any crowd and not succumb to the temptation of sin. Jesus did not tell the Pharisees that all of them had to attend such parties. "After all, one does not send just anybody to attend to a patient suffering from smallpox." On the other hand, if no doctor or nurse visits and tends such a patient, the patient will die without chance of recovery. Someone, therefore, must go where the sick patient is. "The healthy do not need a doctor." said Christ, "but the sick do. I've not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance". (David Gooding, According to Luke, page 110).
Here's the point. Even in this context, isn't "righteous" and "sinners" relative terms? Were the Pharisees so righteous that they did not need a doctor?
Who needs a doctor? Most of us do. And you can be sure of this, there are a number of persons in your own circle of friends who need a doctor. The question for most of us is not whether we will be called to witness and minister to the sickest of the sick, but whether we will be faithful witnesses to those around us who have perhaps not yet realized that they are spiritually sick unto death, and are as surely spiritually doomed as those we quickly think are out of the main stream of so called righteousness.
So let the question burn in your mind: Who needs a doctor?
I close with this. Jerry and I had an exciting time last Sunday afternoon. We went to a surprise birthday party for Pauline Hord. She's now 84 years old.
The party was given by Second Chance Ministry, an inspiring and effective ministry in which Pauline and other members of our congregation are involved, and which our church supports financially. I was invited to the party while I was on Study Leave. I returned from Study Leave on Saturday evening and went to my office to do last minute preparation for Sunday morning. A note from my secretary reminded me of the party and that I was to be prepared to speak some words of appreciation for Pauline.
Well, I had no time to prepare for that. So, after lunch on Sunday, at 1:30, we were driving out into the country to the Bolton Full Gospel Church where the party was being held. For the first time, I began to catch my breath and think, now what can I say about Pauline?
The mystery of the way our minds work is fascinating. On my way back from Study Leave I had spent some time with my Mother and Father down in Richton, Mississippi. I'm sure my visit with Co-Bell was fresh on my mind and in my heart. She's 85 and Pauline is 84. I'm sure that had something to do with the way my mind began to work.
On that drive out to the church for the celebration, all of a sudden I remembered one of the things that my momma taught me. It was one of those lessons that she and my Dad tried to pound into the minds of us children -- a lesson I'm sure that many of you received from your parents as well. They were always saying to us: "You are known by the company you keep."
I don't know more honest folks than my Momma and Daddy. Their moral character has always been unquestioned. They stood for all the right things as they understood them. And they were telling us children that that's the most important thing in life. So they kept telling us: "You are known by the company you keep."
Now for them, and the way we interpreted that, meant a very specific kind of thing. We were not to keep company with those people who were "bad" -- those who drank and smoked and caroused around. We were to keep company with people of good character, and that's the way we would be known.
Now, that was good advice. But all of a sudden -- as I drove to the party and thought of the tribute I might pay to Pauline, it dawned on me in a very significant way that advice is wrong. It's wrong in the way that it was given and in the way that it is interpreted. Jesus would give that same advice -- but its meaning would be completely different. That's the truth that dawned on me as I drove out to Bolton and was thinking about the tribute I might pay to Pauline Hord.
We are known by the company we keep, and Pauline is known by the company she keeps. She keeps company with the poor and needy of our community. She keeps company with folks who are trying to make a difference in our public schools. She keeps company with sick folks, no matter what their economic status. She prays for them and if they need something, she tries to provide it. She keeps company with prisoners -- prisoners in jails in our community -- but especially inmates down at Parchman Prison in Mississippi. Every week she and some other folks drive to Parchman to spend a day teaching the inmates there how to read and write. In the best sense of the word -- in the Jesus sense of the word -- Pauline is known by the company she keeps.
Some of you may know that Pauline was named as one of the Points of Light in our community and was written up in the newspaper. Back during the days when President Bush first introduced that notion -- that there should be people who are points of light in every community -- I nominated Pauline to The Commercial Appeal to be such a person.
When the President was coming to town about a year and a half ago, he selected a few people from that Points of Light list to have a special luncheon with him. Pauline was one of those persons invited. You should hear her tell the story of how she received a call from the White House one day.
Unfortunately, Pauline couldn't have that special time with the President of the United States because he set it on the wrong date -- he set it on Wednesday and that's the day that Pauline is keeping company with prisoners down at Parchman, showing her concern and care, teaching them to read and write. We are known by the company we keep. Jesus said, "It's not the well who need a physician -- but the sick."
Let the question burn then: Who needs a Physician? How are we answering that question in our life?
FINAL GREETING: If you were going to have a party and introduce Jesus and tell people what Jesus had done for you then let Him talk to them -- who would you invite?