The Untouchables

(Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26; Hosea 5:15-6:6)

After doing this for about a quarter of a century now (preaching, that is), I’ve been at it long enough to know that sometimes sermon writing, like any kind of writing, can be difficult.  In fact, the late Red Smith, a famous N.Y. Times sportswriter of a generation ago, once described writing this way: “There’s nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter… and open a vein.”

At other times, however, the sermon practically writes itself.  Again, I’ve been at this long enough, week in and week out for over two decades now, that my mind has been trained to think theologically and my powers of observation conditioned to be ever on the lookout for sermon ideas and sermon themes and sermon illustrations.  Which is simply to say that, if you do something long enough, it will eventually become second-nature to you…

And such was the case, once again, this past week.  On Monday afternoon, when I took my first look at the scripture lessons assigned for this morning, all it took was a single glance at today’s Gospel.  As soon as I read through it that very first time, two words immediately popped into my head – the two words which then, soon afterwards, became today’s sermon theme: “The Untouchables.”

Now, if you’re a baby boomer like myself, the words “The Untouchables” probably trigger flashbacks of car chases and machine gun battles from the late 50’s/early 60’s crime drama of the same name, starring Robert Stack as Prohibition Agent Eliot Ness who waged war against Al Capone and organized crime in Chicago back in the 1930’s.  The TV show was, in turn, based on the autobiographical memoir of the real life Eliot Ness, and his experiences leading a special team of agents known as the Untouchables.  They had received this nickname because these handpicked agents were incapable of being bribed or corrupted.

Therefore, since they were out of the gangster’s reach, they came to be known as “untouchable.”

But if this is the image that immediately popped into your head when you first heard these words (as was the case for me), stop right now and put it out of your mind.  Because these are not the kind of untouchables I want you to be thinking about this morning.

On the other hand, if when you first heard “the untouchables” you thought of the “caste system” in India (which was my second thought, by the way), then you’re absolutely correct.  Because this is the sense in which we’ll be examining the term in today’s sermon…

For those who may not be familiar with it, there has existed

in India, for the past 1,500 years or so, a system of social stratification that follows a basic precept (one which is the very antithesis of our American understanding): namely, that “all men are created unequal.” You see, the ranks or classes in Hindu society come from a legend in which the main groupings emerged from a primordial being.  From the mouth, came the priests and teachers.  From the arms, came the rulers and soldiers.  From the thighs, came the merchants and traders.  And from the feet, came the laborers.  Finally, there is a fifth group, whom the primordial being does not claim.  So they are the outcasts, also known as… “the untouchables.”

These people, today over 160 million in number, are considered too impure, too polluted, to rank as worthy beings.  Prejudice defines their lives.  They are shunned, insulted, banned from temples and higher caste homes, and made to eat and drink from separate utensils in public places.  They suffer from a form of racist and economic bondage that has been compared to the apartheid system that once existed in South Africa.  And it’s an extreme version of what we, ourselves, experienced in this country during slavery and even up through the days before the civil rights movement in the second half of the 20th century.  (Which, regardless of your political persuasion, is what makes the apparent nomination of Barack Obama so significant.)

So where’s the connection?  Well, when we read this morning’s gospel, we have to remember that in Jesus’ day, and in the society in which he lived, there were also untouchables; people who were similarly shunned because they were thought to somehow be impure.

For example, there were the Samaritans.  These were the distant, (some would say “illegitimate”) cousins of the Jewish people who were descended from the colonists that the Assyrians brought in after they defeated the northern kingdom of Israel in 722 B.C.

and simultaneously deported much of the native population.  Consequently, by the time of Jesus, there was a good deal of antagonism and hostility between the Jews and the Samaritans.  Which is what made Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan so powerful and so moving; not even the bad feelings between these two peoples stood in the way of the Samaritan coming to the aid of that injured Jew.

And then in our passage this morning, we have represented three other groups who were also shunned and/or considered impure; three other groups of so-called “untouchables.”

The first were the tax collectors and sinners; in other words, Matthew and his gang.  Tax collectors, even more so than today, had a negative reputation in the ancient world.  You see, Rome sold the contracts for tax collection to the highest bidder who, in turn, typically overcharged the people in order to make a profit.

Linked together with the tax collectors in our passage are those the gospel writer (presumably Matthew himself) simply refers to as “sinners.” We aren’t given any more information about them than this.  But the apparent common denominator here between them and the tax collectors, the implication if you will, is that these groups do not observe the Jewish law.  And, as such, a good law-abiding, law-observing Jew would normally have avoided any kind of social contact with them, including table fellowship.  In other words, Jesus is depicted here as eating with the wrong kind of people.

Who you choose to eat with, even today, is an important means by which community is established and social status is demonstrated.  Those who eat together generally share the same values and social position.  (For example, just think back for a moment to your high school cafeteria and tell me that there wasn’t a “pecking order” that governed who ate with whom; the jocks and popular kids at their own tables, for instance, and the nerds and geeks at theirs.)

So, naturally, by eating with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus raised more than a few eyebrows, especially among the Pharisees who took these things very seriously.  That is, regulations having to

do with food and purity were very important to them.  Not surprisingly, then, the Pharisees immediately questioned Jesus’ disciples about this behavior.  But Jesus overhears their question, and, quoting from Hosea (our first reading this morning), he challenges their objections by saying, “Go and learn what this means, I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”  (More about this later.)

Then we have the second group of untouchables.  While Jesus was saying these things, a leader of the synagogue suddenly came up to him and told him that his daughter had just died.  Then he pleaded with Jesus to come and lay his hand on her so that she might live.  Jesus gets up and goes with him, but before he even gets there – while he’s still walking – a woman suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years, we’re told, comes up and touches his cloak, saying to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.”

In those days, of course, a women’s monthly menstrual flow rendered her ritually unclean and temporarily impure.  And so

for someone, like this particular woman, whose bleeding was continuous – not only was this condition painful and debilitating, preventing her from marrying or having children – but her impurity was, therefore, virtually permanent as well.  Not only that, but anyone who touched, or was touched by, her was also made unclean.  Needless to say, this practically insured that she would have been ostracized by the community.

Yet notice how Jesus responds when he feels her touch.  He turns and says to her, “Take heart, daughter, your faith has made you well.”  Instead of recoiling at her touch, for fear of becoming unclean himself, he instead welcomes it, and instantly she was healed…

Finally, Jesus arrives at the home of the man whose daughter had died and there we have the third group of untouchables in our passage.  And, once again, Jesus is risking ritual defilement.  Here it’s helpful to remember how the priest and the Levite (in that parable of the Good Samaritan I mentioned earlier) walked right past the beaten man beside the road.  Since it was difficult for them to tell if he was still living or not, they were naturally concerned about becoming defiled or unclean themselves by touching a corpse.  According to Jewish law, any person who physically came in contact with a dead body was unclean for a week and required ceremonial cleansing on the third and seventh days.  Or else risked being completely cut off from the Jewish community.

But once again Jesus emphasizes mercy, this time over legality and purity regulations; just as he emphasized mercy over social status and reputation in the case of Matthew and his friends.  Even though physical contact with an unclean person, or even just touching things that the unclean person had touched, was thought to transmit that impurity; and even though contact with a dead body made that individual unclean – Jesus did not hesitate to receive or, in this case, to actually initiate such contact himself.  Dismissing the mourners, saying, “…the girl is not dead, but (simply) sleeping,” Jesus went in and immediately took her by the hand, and, as we heard, the girl sat up…

Three groups of “untouchables,” then, three groups of people – both the living and (in one case) the dead – who were to be avoided; the outcasts of society; people that no law-abiding, deeply religious, or self-respecting person would want to have anything to do with – if possible.  As Pastor Luke Bouman has written, “…they were people without place, future, dignity, and in a very real sense, cut off from life, though only the little girl is dead.”

However, in a society, and in a faith, where these distinctions and prohibitions were considered important by many, Jesus chooses to show his followers another way.  David Watson has noted that, “Matthew’s Jesus cares deeply about the Jewish law, but he interprets it differently than his opponents do.  He gives priority to (those) elements of the Jewish law that emphasize concrete acts of love and mercy.”  As Watson observes, “(Jesus) enters into the messiness of everyday human activity and offers righteousness, community, and healing.”  In stark contrast to the so-called religious people of his day, Jesus actively seeks out the sinner, the outcast, and those considered unclean.  And in modeling this kind of behavior, Jesus not only sets an example for his disciples to follow, he also gives us a glimpse into the very nature of God…

Earlier I indicated that there would be more to say about Jesus’ desire for mercy, instead of sacrifice.  As I noted at the time, he was quoting from the prophet Hosea here.

Hosea’s story, of course, is a very interesting one.  You see, God decided to show the people of Israel – through Hosea – what God was really like.  And so, if you remember the story, God commands Hosea to marry a prostitute; a woman named Gomer.

(I had a male cousin named Gomer, which I always thought was a funny name for a guy.  And, similarly, this was certainly a strange name for a woman, as well!)

Moreover, the circumstances of their marriage were equally strange… tragic even.  For even though Hosea was good to her, and gave her children, before very long, Gomer leaves Hosea and resumes her previous life with great gusto.  And, in doing so, she makes Hosea look like a fool.

But therein lies the teaching moment.  Because God then says to Hosea, and to all of Israel, “This is what its like to be me.  For you, my people, have been unfaithful to me, and have gone after other gods instead of me.”

Then comes the unexpected, the unthinkable really.  God tells Hosea to take Gomer back; to actually buy back his adulterous wife, and to reaffirm his love for her and his devotion to her.  Heaven knows, she didn’t deserve it.  Nor does it miraculously make her a better person, or help Hosea win any friends or somehow enhance his reputation.  The fact of the matter is, everyone knows full well what she’s done, and they probably think he’s insane for bringing her back.

But God was trying to make a point here, with Hosea’s life.  Hosea is commanded to take Gomer back because that’s what it’s like to be God!  It’s not about justice or fairness or what we might think is right. Rather… God is all about steadfast love and mercy and grace.  You see, how God instructed Hosea to deal with his wife Gomer, is precisely how God deals with us, and our unfaithfulness, and our sinfulness.  In Jesus Christ, God redeems us.  In other words, God buys us back and reaffirms his love for us and his commitment to us.  Because if it was about justice, or fairness, or what’s right… we wouldn’t stand a chance, would we?

…And so, in Jesus, we see God reaching out to the outcasts and even touching the untouchables.  In Jesus, we see God welcoming those who are shunned and ostracized because of who they are, or how they live.  In Jesus, we see God embracing those who everyone else has intentionally avoided and completely written off.  Why?  For the simple reason that God is a God of steadfast love and mercy…

Of course, there’s a final question to be asked, isn’t there?  An uncomfortable question…  That is: Who are the untouchables today… in our lives?  Who are the people that we find revolting and repulsive, for whatever reason?  Who are the people we automatically recoil from?

Tony Campolo tells the story of walking one day down Chestnut Street in center-city Philadelphia and encountering a homeless man who was approaching him on the sidewalk.  This bum was covered with dirt and soot from head to toe.  There was filthy stuff caked on his skin.  His beard hung down almost to his waist and there was rotted food stuck in it.

The man was holding a cup of McDonald’s coffee and the lip of the cup was already smudged from his dirty mouth.  And as he staggered towards Tony, he seemed to be staring into this cup of coffee.  Then, suddenly, he looked up and yelled, “Hey mister!

Ya want some coffee?”

As Campolo writes, “I have to admit that I really didn’t.  But I knew that the right thing to do was to accept his generosity, and so I said, ‘I’ll take a sip.’”

When Tony handed the cup back to him, he said, “You’re pretty generous, aren’t you, giving away your coffee?”  And the old man looked him straight in the eye and replied, “Well, the coffee was especially delicious today, and I figure if God gives you something good, you ought to share it with (other) people.”

Upon hearing this, however, Campolo became a little cynical, and thought to himself, “Oh, man.  He has me really set up.  This is going to cost me five dollars.” So Tony said to him, “I suppose there’s something I can do for you in return, isn’t there?”

The homeless guy thought about that for a second, and then said, “Yeah!  You can give me a hug.”  (“To tell you the truth,” writes Campolo, “I was hoping for the five dollars.”)

So the bum put his arms around Tony, and Tony put his arms around the bum.  And then Campolo realized something, “He wasn’t going to let me go!”  Here, people were walking by on the sidewalk, staring at them.  And Tony, all dressed up in a suit and tie, was hugging this dirty, filthy bum.  And he was embarrassed.

But how long had it been since another human being had embraced this untouchable?  And how many other untouchables are out there; cut off from and shunned by society because of the way they look, or they way they speak, or the way they act, or the color of their skin, or even their lifestyle?

Laurel Dykstra, writing for Sojourner’s Online, says this, “Jesus asserts that whatever purity means, it is not threatened by occupation, outsider status, failure to conform, or type of body.  That is good news indeed for those of us who because of sexual orientation, transgender identity, HIV status, a lack of address, mental illness, prostitution, addiction, immigration, and many other reasons, are considered not quite clean.”

“Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” asked the Pharisees.  When Jesus heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.”

In the 19th century, a Roman Catholic priest was sent to minister to the lepers who had been quarantined on the island of Molokai in the Hawaiian chain.  This priest was sent to serve these scorned and sickly people; these untouchables. But even though he tried for years to reach out to them with the love of Jesus Christ, as best he knew how, he never quite succeeded in connecting with these people in a way that led them to respond to his ministry.  So, finally, he decided to give up.  He sent word to the people on Oahu to send a boat for him and also to find someone else to take his place.

But on the Sunday he was scheduled to leave, as he stood there on the dock waiting for the boat to arrive, he happened to glance down at his hands and noticed several white spots.  And in that moment, he suddenly realized that he, himself, had become a leper.  This meant, of course, that he wouldn’t be able to take that boat back to Oahu, for now he also belonged in the leper colony.  However, this isn’t the end of the story of Father Damien.

You see, when he left that dock, and slowly walked back up the hill to the little church he had tried so hard to serve, he suddenly discovered a church full of people.  Somehow the word had spread, and they had finally come to hear their priest.  That’s because he was no longer an outsider.  He had become one of them. And so

he stayed on at that leper colony for the rest of his life, touching thousands with the love of Jesus Christ…

Jesus reminds us that there are “untouchables” all around us; people we shun and avoid all the time, and for all sorts of reasons.  But he also reminds us that – in spite of the risk –  to be a Christian is to reach out and dare to touch these untouchables in tangible and concrete ways, with the steadfast love of God.  In God’s eyes, you see, mercy trumps everything else.

Amen