Views from the Valley

Sunday, June 7, 2026

Scripture

Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

         As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax collection station, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him.

        And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

        While he was saying these things to them, suddenly a leader came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from a flow of blood for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, for she was saying to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And the woman was made well from that moment. When Jesus came to the leader’s house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, he said, “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. And the report of this spread through all of that district.

Sermon

       Everybody needs a doctor sometimes. Some of us are well-acquainted with our doctor, or in most cases, doctors. Others of us might darken the door of a doctor’s office now and then, but each time we go, the greetings are cordial and the history needs to be revisited due to the passage of great lengths of time between visits.

       There are doctors for so many things. Even things we don’t normally think of that need “medical” care. I recall years ago – I believe I was living in Cheyenne, Wyoming – when I heard a jingle in a TV ad that went like this: “Call the Glass Doctor: he’ll fix your pane.” Whoever came up with that ad was pretty brilliant, if you ask me. I decided to do some research since the internet is just a few finger taps away, and I discovered that, for heaven’s sake, the Glass Doctor is almost everywhere. Even as close as Syracuse. Window “pane” is being fixed all over the country!

       And we have doctor specialists for all sorts of remedies, with all sorts of names and functions. We have doctors who specialize in treatment of body parts that make us wonder why they made the choice – you know what I mean. There are also doctors called “nocturnists.” They work in hospitals only at night, and treat general medicine issues. One might think they are “night owl” sort of people, and I suppose they are. A new term that’s crossed my path in recent years is that of “hospitalist”. This is a doctor who sole job is daytime work at a hospital, seeing patients through their care from the day they arrive to the day they leave.

       But like I said, pretty much all of us need a doctor, even if it’s not the kind that treats issues of body or mind. Sometimes we need a physician who can tend to our many needs – someone who can teach us and help us to heal the many problems we encounter in life, like issues with money, the lack of it or the excessive desire for it, with complications involving the way that we obtain it and the way we use it – ways that result in either blessing or bane for ourselves and others.

       Others of us need a doctor who, if we are willing to allow it, can work with us to help change our perspective on things in our lives. Sometimes we think and feel as though we are superior to others for various reasons. Our status in life is important, and we don’t need people threatening to usurp that status, even if by the grace of God we obtained it as we look back through our lives. We think we are the author of our status and achievements and deserve all the recognition and honor we can get.

       There are many, many ways in which we could use a doctor: a physician, who treats problems and brings about solutions. What kind of doctor do you need today?

       Our Scripture reading for today portrays the person around which our faith is centered: Jesus, the Christ. To many, as a result of this particular report of Jesus’ actions and words, he has been named down through the ages as “The Great Physician.” It’s easy to see why. He’s not only a “Doctor” of religious studies and wisdom, simply by virtue of the fact that his thoughts and actions are informed and motivated by the Creator. He is a healer of a woman with a menstrual issue, a constant passing of blood for years. We women can imagine what that would be like – so inconvenient and so utterly exhausting. Just being in his presence and touching the fringe of Jesus’ cloak summons the amazing healing power of God.

       He even raises a dead girl to life, even though the mourning crowd has already surrounded the girl’s home. “She is not dead but sleeping,” Jesus says. And sure enough, Jesus goes into the house and walks the girl out to the amazed onlookers, family and friends.

       But Jesus uses the analogy of the physician when he speaks to the Pharisees at a dinner to which he has invited what the scripture calls “tax collectors and sinners.” We can imagine what the tax collectors have done in their lives, but don’t you wonder what personalities the word “sinners” covers?

       Why, the Pharisees wonder, does a man like Jesus, who is so well-acquainted with the faith the Pharisees treasure, teach, and abide by every day, hang out with impure people? The Pharisees are steeped in their tradition in which anything flawed must be cleansed and made perfect in order to please God. It seems rather ironic, doesn’t it, that One who created the entire universe and everything in it, from the dirt on the ground, the germs, the bacteria, the sludge, the ashes, the cinders, the goo, the glop, the debris, and the decay, can’t seem to handle anything but perfection? Or at least that’s what the Pharisees believe – that God cannot look on anything less than pristine.

       They are about to get a different lesson. When they wonder about this to Jesus’ disciples, Jesus replies, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.” Jesus quotes the scriptures that those Pharisees ought to have known well if they read their scrolls. Hosea 6:6 proclaims as a word from God, “For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.” How and why do they seem to miss the point of God’s mercy, even though, along with the law, it has been mentioned and proclaimed many times throughout the Old Testament? How did Abraham and Sarah come to be the heirs of God’s promise, when no Hebrew faith had yet been formed? God was at work, loving and ministering to people long before any idea of law and sacrifice and burnt offerings had ever been conceived. It appears that, in the eyes of many religious leaders like the Pharisees, there was a sense of security in knowing just exactly how to please God. There was a sense of pride in being able to do so in the very best ways. And that sense of pride led them to claim superiority over the others who were invited to the dinner.

       Jesus foiled their plans, and dashed their confidence. He acknowledged his gifts as a healer. He also had a gift that attracted “sinners” to him, such as Matthew. Google’s AI overview describes someone like Matthew in this way: “In the time of Jesus, tax collectors (publicans) were Jewish men hired by the Roman Empire or local rulers to collect customs, tolls, and tributes. Deeply despised as traitors and extortioners who grew wealthy by overcharging their own people, they were socially ostracized and classified alongside the lowest sinners.”

       Jesus, the man of God, inviting into the physician’s office not only those who thought they had righteousness in the bag, but those who knew they had big issues. They were the ones who were the most enthusiastic about having been invited. They were the ones who most deeply needed, received, and appreciated the welcome they got from someone who was deemed quite special in the eyes of God.

       Jesus, the Great Physician, healing the desires of publicans who no doubt were tired of having to resort to crooked, shameful means in order to do the job they were hired to do. And how was he healing them? Not through the medicine of the law, the statutes, the requirements religions often laid out before their adherents that enabled them to remain connected to the group, But through the medicine of mercy. Sheer mercy. Sheer love of people for who they were, as they were, no questions asked. People who longed to see a better, more honorable life, but felt the standards of the Pharisees were far too lofty to achieve, so why even bother?

       And it was those same publicans and sinners who became some of Jesus’ most ardent and devout followers. It was those same publicans and sinners who were a part of Jesus’ mission of mercy, bringing into the fold people who might never have darkened the door of a house of worship.

       That’s who Jesus was, and is. A physician to all of us sick people, in whatever ways we are in need, in this hospital for sinners, as opposed to that proverbial “museum for saints.” I hope we all realize the magnitude of this reality. Even as the church of Jesus followers began on this mercy and grace, and though no doubt the Jewish law and customs were honored, the church was not necessarily intended to be what, in many places, it has become. A place of expectations. A place of staidness and stiffness. A place of exclusion. A place of stilted ritual and shame when humanness breaks through (though I don’t think we’re like that in our church). A place where pharisee-types still parade up and down chancels and aisles proclaiming a distant God of judgment. That’s not the church Jesus and his early disciples intended. They met in homes, along roadways, gathered in rooms, sat in windows and on the grass, and worshiped, welcomed, learned and prayed. What happened to the church centuries later was that the trappings took over. Jesus became someone to revere and put on a pedestal, at a distance. Yet thank God that we here still do our best to remember the personal, very real nature of a man who had a special connection to God, and yet loved and adored REAL PEOPLE like you and me. He loved the Pharisee types, too, but they just didn’t understand.

       Jesus still does this work, among us, in us, and through us. He still heals, in ways we may not realize. He welcomes children. He includes people our society deems as “odd” or “other” or “foreign.” He has compassion on people in need. He came to set an example to us of who we are to be among others: physicians and caregivers and helpers all.

       As we come to this table today to share in the simple, yet symbolic supper that represents Jesus giving of himself for others, let us imagine him here with us as the bread is passed and juice is poured and distributed. He is why we are here. He is with us as we share together. He is our Great Physician, who knows just how to heal our hurting hearts, and challenges us to become like him as we live in this world: Willing to hang out with and welcome both sinners and saints. Willing to offer mercy and grace to those who think they’re not good enough to come to church. Willing to reflect on our own importance as actual servants of God, not keepers of the castle and guardians of the breach.

       Jesus, the Great Physician, invites you to join at the table with him, and then take that grace that has been poured to you and share it with others in whatever ways you can.

       Does anyone need special help? The doctor is in! Amen.