INTRODUCTION TO SERIES AND SERMON (from pulpit)
False gods – the gods people make up – despise sinners. But the one true God loves sinners (Manning, Ragamuffin Gospel, 22).
Brennan Manning, author of The Ragamuffin Gospel says, “Whatever our failings may be, we need not lower our eyes in the presence of Jesus. . . .[W]e need not hide all that is ugly and repulsive in us. Jesus comes not for the super-spiritual but for the wobbly and weak kneed who know they don’t have it all together, and who are not too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace. As we glance up, we are astonished to find the eyes of Jesus open with wonder, deep with understanding, and gentle with compassion” (30).
It is those eyes that God wants us to peer into in the coming weeks as we go through this new message series, Made Up Mess Ups. Those same eyes filled with understanding and compassion are also full of hope and promise. Jesus sees us as we can be not as we are. He doesn’t want us to remain stuck in sin. No matter how messed up our life is, he wants to give us new and abundant life in Him. He wants to make up our mess ups.
During this series we will look at seven people who came in contact with Jesus, met the penetrating eyes of Jesus, responded to the offer of Jesus, and were made new by the transforming power of Jesus. They were not suddenly sinless after they followed Jesus. In fact, some of them messed up again. But their life was totally transformed once they followed Jesus. From Christ, they experienced grace, found salvation, and were given purpose. They were never the same after responding to the call of Jesus, and what they became was far better than what they had been. A Russian proverb says, “Those who have the disease of Jesus will never be cured” (Manning, 189). That’s what happened to the seven made up mess ups we will encounter in this series.
This morning we begin with Matthew the tax collector turned gospel writer. I will share Matthew’s story as a monologue. To help you follow Matthew’s story, I have included an outline with scripture passages in the notes section of the bulletin. I encourage you to follow in your Bible as much as you can. Naturally, in a monologue I have to use a bit of educated creative license to connect the dots. What I will share that is not in the Bible are thoughts, words, scenes, events that are possible or probable.
With that disclaimer, I invite you to experience the life of Matthew today. Discover that when Jesus makes up your mess ups, you become a new person. But, interestingly enough, God often uses your past experiences to His benefit.
May we pray together: sing with me as your prayer, “Amazing Grace” (Move to tax collector table set up stage right while praying)
Monologue Scene #1: Matthew the Tax Collector
(Writing) Debts, debts, debts! Will these people ever pay up? So many people in this city owe taxes. I know! I’ll just go get them. (go into congregation, be a bit hostile, get real money. Look at what they owe, think a moment, do a little mental calculating, then say a price, maybe dicker if they don’t have it. “You think I’m kidding? Pay up” – return to table).
Now, let’s see. That’s __ for King Herod Antipas – his majesty must collect the taxes for Rome. Each year he has to deliver a lump sum to Rome. But King Herod Antipas cannot collect all those taxes on his own, so he’s gathered a large workforce of tax collectors like me to do the work for him. Can I just say – I love this job? You see, that’s ___ for King Herod and __ for me. That poor fellow only owed $10 but I said $20, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, but it sure will help me!
Do you think it’s wrong? Well, you can go sulk with the rest of our Jewish brethren. They can’t stand the fact that I, a Jew, could be involved in such a “vile” profession. “Roman sympathizer” some say. “Traitor!” others cry. “How can you, one of the Lord’s people aid the invader?” “How can you deal with the filthy Gentiles? How can you work on the Sabbath?” I’ll tell you, no show you how – it’s quite lucrative! Show me the money!
Oh, I know where the religious folks think I stand – right there with the prostitutes – a worthless piece of dung. They don’t allow me to worship, they don’t allow me in the synagogues. I’m not good enough. I’m vile. They ostracize me. The neighborhood lamb roasts? Never invited. Barmitzphas? Forget it. The religious people avoid me like a rotten corpse. I’m vile, sinful, unclean! And I suppose I am, but it’s my lot in life. It’s where I am. The money is good. But life? What do you mean life? This is the life – isn’t it? It doesn’t get any better than this (confident to slight ? in statement)
(Pause, look down, work.)
(To imaginary someone):
Excuse me? Are you talking to me? Come follow me? O.K.
Monologue Scene #2: Matthew’s Conversion (Stage left)
That’s what it was like. I know it’s hard to believe. But that’s my story. Jesus walked up to me, said, “Come follow me,” and I got up and followed him. And I just kept following.
Don’t ask me what it was that made me follow because I don’t know that anything made me do it. I just knew I had to do it. When he called, I was seized by the power of a great affection. There was a call from Him and an explosion within my heart that I had to follow. Immediately, Jesus became my king, not Herod Antipas, but Jesus. Jesus became the Lord, the boss, of my life. . . . I left the tax collecting business behind and followed Jesus and I never looked back. I never needed to. There was a new purpose in my life, a new longing in my heart, and a new sense of fulfillment that, I know may sound strange, but was richer and more lasting than anything money could ever buy.
When Jesus said, “Come, follow me,” I did. I knew it meant I would lose my job, but it didn’t matter. Jesus later taught that we would have to give up everything to be His disciples. He meant most of that figuratively, but it was pretty literal for me. You can’t be an unethical publican and an apostle of Christ – the two just don’t mix.
I was so enamored by Jesus that I invited him over to the house for a big celebration supper – I guess a going out of business supper, retirement supper, new life supper – call it what you will, I just wanted to celebrate. I had my servants prepare a lavish feast and invited all my buddies. Yes, my sinner buddies – other tax collectors and “sinners.” Who else? Yes, parents, you warn your kids about the likes of such, but these were my friends and they needed to meet Jesus. And when Jesus met my buddies, he didn’t snub his nose at them, he accepted them, he laughed with them, he loved them – just like he had loved me. There were sinners and saints in that room and no one was sitting in the corner trying to figure out who was which.
We were having a blast. But then an hour or so into the festivities, the door opened and an icy breeze blew in (Max Lucado, Next Door Savior, chapter 3). It was the Pharisees. The Pharisees, such “righteous” fellows – the religious opposite of me and my friends. If we were dung; they were gold. They kept the letter of the law meticulously. They were the religious police and wore their phylacteries so tight around their heads they had that spiritual prune look on their face. Well, these holy hot heads piously asked Jesus’ disciples, my new friends, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and ‘sinners?’”
Their speech dripped with disdain and hatred. I really don’t see how the Pharisees walk around without tripping, they’ve always got their nose so far in the air and then try to look down at everyone over it (demonstrate).
I wanted to respond – but before I could, Jesus intervened. He said something I’ll never forget as long as I live, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I have come to call sinners to turn from their sins, not to spend my time with those who think they are already good enough” (NIV and NLT).
That statement warmed me but it stung the Pharisees. In that moment I realized something, the Pharisees merely appeared righteous. They were all about the outside, but Jesus cared about the inside. They wore God on their coat sleeves, but had little of God in their hearts because they did not have his love for people.
Both the Pharisees and Jesus hated sin. The difference was Jesus hated sin but loved the sinner whereas the Pharisees hated both sin and the sinner, at least in practice. I guess that’s why my whole life I had no desire to follow the Pharisees, but the instant Jesus said, “Come follow me,” I got up and followed. It’s easy to follow someone you know loves you just as you are and is willing to help you be all you can be. Yeah, I was a sinner. That was obvious. The Pharisees pointed it out. But Jesus loved it out.
As a tax collector I ranked barely above algae on the food chain. But Jesus took me from algae to humanity in an instant. He accepted me as a person. And through my relationship with Him, Jesus gave me a new life.
As a publican, I had everything I wanted but I needed Jesus. I was a sinner . . . I still am a sinner. But there is a difference now – I am a sinner saved by grace. And when I do sin, it breaks my heart. Christ has given me a new life in him. That old Matthew is gone, buried, dead. Now I am a new Matthew. . . .
Monologue Scene #3: Matthew, Gospel Writer (Table, stage right)
And that’s why I now have a new task for table, pen, and parchment. Where I once recorded and collected debts right here with these tools, I now use these same tools to tell people how to get rid of debt. Of course, it’s a different kind of debt.
Just as the tax debt mounted up for some people, each time we sin, our sin-debt mounts up. We all have a sin-debt. All of us have sinned. You see, the Pharisees forgot something they should have known - there is no one righteous not even one. We cannot be righteous on our own. We have this huge sin debt that has to be paid. And the payment for sin in God’s economy is death. If you sin, you will die. But you do not have to die. God is just which means He appropriately punishes but he also appropriately provides a way for acquittal. You see, the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us – the truly just and righteous for the unjust and unrighteous. In dying, Christ paid off our sin debt. But not everyone gets that. You have to claim that payment so God can acknowledge the receipt! You do that by confessing with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believing in your heart that God raise him from the dead. When you do that you will be saved from death because God will scoop up your mountain of sin debt and throw it in the garbage.
My task now is to show people that Jesus is the one who paid for that debt on the cross. Don’t you agree that is good news? That’s why I’m calling this thing I’m writing a “gospel.” It’s a new word. My friends Mark and Luke have already written similar works, but I feel led of the Spirit to do so as well. “Gospel” . . . that’s a new word we’ve been tossing around. It means ‘good news.’ We just couldn’t find any other term that fit. This is different from anything that has ever been written. It is unique. It has a unique purpose. I hope it fulfills that purpose. (scribble)
It’s interesting, the same skills I used as a despised tax collector, I now use as a disciplined gospel writer. I kept records then. I recount records now. I added debts then. I help delete debts now. I carried forth the edicts of the king then. I carry forth the edicts of the King now. Amazing. Simply amazing.
I’ve been writing this gospel now for some time. You know something I’ve discovered? It’s difficult to write about yourself. I mean, I was one of the Master’s disciples, so I have to list my name, put myself in stories, things like that . . . but I don’t want this work to be anything about me, just everything about Him. I’ve had a hard time when I come to mentioning myself. I’ve decided to always refer to myself in this way “Matthew, the publican” or “Mathew, the tax collector.” That reminds me, and hopefully my readers, of all Christ did for me. There is no way a tax collector deserved to be one of the inner circle of Christ’s disciples. But it doesn’t matter what I deserve. What matters is that his grace is sufficient. Jesus showered me with love and mercy and forgiveness, and I want everyone to know that. I hope that when people read my name, they won’t remember me, instead, they’ll remember what Christ did for me.
Mercy. Forgiveness. Those are good words, aren’t they? I’m trying to communicate what these are all about in my gospel. I’m not sure why, but Mark and Luke didn’t include a couple of things that were dear to my heart – I guess when you’re from different backgrounds you remember different things. For example, Jesus once told a parable about an unforgiving servant. It all happened because Peter asked a question. Sometimes I just wished Peter would shut up, but this time I was glad he asked his question. Here’s how I remember it: (READ Matthew 18:21-35 from The Message – include in scroll on table)
Isn’t that a great story! And how true to how we so often act! As a tax collector I made people pay up – even when they owed far less than this fellow. But we owe God far, far more than we could ever repay in this world. And through Christ he offers to totally pay for our sins. Wow. If we simply accept forgiveness from Him as a gift, how can we then refuse to forgive others?
Another story – Jesus once told a parable about some workers in a vineyard. Jesus paid them all the same for different amounts of work. Some of the workers complained, “This isn’t fair.” Do you ever hear people whining about things not being fair? As a tax collector I did all the time. But do you know if fairness had anything to do with anything, there’d be no chance for us to be redeemed? I think that’s what Jesus was getting at. I mean, think about it, the just died for the unjust – that’s not fair! God unjustly and unfairly gives us far more than we deserve and he gives a whole measure to anyone who comes to him in repentance and faith whether they come on their death bed or as a child!
Isn’t this good news? I can’t wait to see how people respond.
Oh, I almost forgot. Let me return this money to you. I’m not like that any more. (to each person) Friend, you knew you didn’t owe anything monetarily. But have you taken care of your sin debt?
If any of you have not, will you let my friend Jesus take that away? He wants nothing more than to stamp PAID IN FULL across your account. May I pray for you?
Lord Jesus,
Forgive us our debts as we forgive those who are indebted to us. Lead these folks to you. Give them the same new life you gave me. And use their story just as you have used mine. Amen.
CONCLUSION (from pulpit)
When Christ makes up your mess ups, you become a new person. But Matthew’s story reminds us that each of us, from the beginning, is one of God’s works in progress. He has made each of us capable of being his servant, the only thing left is for us to respond to his call. No matter how messed up or not messed up your life is, Jesus is here this morning saying, “Come follow me.” Follow him, and I can guarantee you will gain everything. Stay where you are and what you have is what you will get. Jesus stands ready saying, “Come, follow me.” Will you allow yourself to be seized by His great affection as Matthew did?
If you reject Jesus Christ, do not do so saying, “I have no mess ups for him to make up” because you do. If you reject Jesus, do so because you find His transforming grace too incredible, too freeing, or hopelessly hopeful - for surely that is the only reason you can reject Him.
But if you want to follow Christ - get up and follow. [PRAYER]
