Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
(Proper 19C)
September 14, 2025
Text:
Luke 15:1-10
Who are these sinners Jesus
scandalously receives, and with whom He eats?
They’re the kind of people with whom Pharisees and good Jewish folk
wouldn’t be caught dead associating.
They’re the kind of people that make Law abiding, pious synagogue
members feel unclean. In fact, maybe the
uncleanness is contagious. Never would
you speak to such a one. At least not
intimately, not on friendly terms. Like,
maybe you have to talk to the tax collector at the tax booth as he robs you of
your money, enriching himself and the Romans, the traitor! And maybe you have a rebuke for the
prostitute or the backslider in your proximity.
But you wouldn’t willingly engage in conversation, ask about their
welfare, or say nice things to them.
Never would you touch them, shake their hand, embrace them. And never… not ever, under any circumstances,
would you sit down for a meal with them.
Which would probably mean going to their house, or (gasp!) inviting them
into yours.
Now, here comes Rabbi Jesus, and they’re
all drawing near to Him, to hear Him.
Don’t miss that important point.
The virtue of these sinners is not in their sinfulness. It’s not in the shock value of their publicly
manifest iniquities. It is that Jesus
speaks, and His Word captures them, and draws them in. Because they know it is a Word of mercy,
and it is a Word for them. So,
here is Jesus, immersed in crowds of sinners, who flock to Him because they’ve
found in Him release from their sins.
Cleansing for their uncleanness.
Healing for their brokenness.
Restoration to community, and Communion.
Jesus receives them and eats with them. Once cast out, now brought in. Once excluded, now belonging. Once lost, now found. And all heaven rejoices.
Who are these ninety-nine righteous
persons who need no repentance? You do
hear the holy snark in that appellation, do you not? In reality, there is no such person (with the
one exception of our Lord Jesus Christ) who is righteous and needs no
repentance. “None is righteous,”
Paul says, “no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for
God. All have turned aside; together
they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one” (Rom. 3:10-12;
ESV). “(A)ll have sinned and fall
short of the glory of God” (v. 23).
But the Pharisees and scribes think they're pretty close to that
glory. As close as anyone could
expect. They are not like other
men, and certainly not like these tax-collectors and sinners. They fast twice a week. They give tithes of all that they get. They meticulously observe the Law of Moses and
the traditions of the elders built as a hedge around the Law of Moses, to keep
them safe from transgression. Good. Fine.
But they look upon this as their righteousness, as that which renders
them righteous before God. And one
has to admit, it all looks very good.
Outwardly. But they’re blind to
the real corruption, the deep-seated wickedness of their own heart. They’re good at seeing the sins of
others. They can’t see their own. And so, they grumble about (among other
things) God’s mercy to sinners (grumbling, which I happen to be very good at,
is nevertheless a mark of self-righteousness and thanklessness). And they don’t draw near to Jesus. They reject Him and go far away from Him.
You know a few Pharisees. Actually, you know one of them quite
well. His name is old Adam. He’s sitting with you in the pew. No, don’t look to your right, or your
left. That’s just the sort of “I’m
righteous in comparison with my neighbor” game pharisaical Adam loves to play. Rather, look deep down into your heart. You know, the place the world always tells
you to look for inspiration and every good thing. Instead, you’ll find old Adam there. Get him! Grab him by the scruff of the neck and
confess the ever-lovin’ hades out of him.
Drown him in the blest baptismal waters.
Crucify him. Repent him to
death. Say… out loud, even… I am not,
in and of myself, a righteous person who needs no repentance. I am a poor, miserable sinner. The only good in me comes from outside
of me, from Christ, my Lord, bestowed on me by grace, without any
merit or worthiness in me. I stand with
the tax-collector and beat my breast, lamenting, “God, be merciful to me, a
sinner!” (Luke 18:13). Yeah, that
ought to do it. That ought to stuff old
Adam back where he belongs. Because,
that is not who you are anymore.
Who are you, beloved? Well, you know who you were? You were the lost sheep, wandering off
on your own, away from the Shepherd, away from the flock, away
from the sheepfold, thinking you knew better than that crozier-wielding
stick-in-the-mud, Jesus, anyway.
Wandering toward perils unknown.
Predators. Robbers. Injury.
Certain death. But now… now you are
the one for whom Christ, our Good Shepherd, leaves the ninety-nine to search
out and rescue. You are the one…
just look at paintings or icons of Christ, the Good Shepherd… you are
the wounded sheep He bears on His shoulders, and carries home rejoicing. And all heaven with Him.
You were the lost coin, the drachma,
woven into a crown of ten, constituting a bride’s dowry. When one coin falls off, by the way, the
whole wreath falls apart. When one coin
is lost, the whole crown suffers. This
is an intensely personal tragedy for us all, beloved. Now, holy Mother Church, the Bride of Christ,
lights a Lamp… the Word of God! “Your
word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105)… and she
sweeps the house and seeks diligently until she finds it. And when she does, she rejoices. And all heaven with her!
And so does the Church on
earth. With angels and archangels and
all the company of heaven. More joy over
one sinner who repents than over… Well, what about those ninety-nine supposedly
righteous people? They’re not actually
righteous. They need repentance,
too. They’re lost, too. So, send out the undershepherds, in the Name
of Christ. Light the Lamp, dear Church
of God. Preach. Preach the Lord Jesus Christ.
Who is this Man who receives sinners
and eats with them? He is the very Son
of God, sent on divine mission into our flesh to gather lost sheep into His
fold. To save sinners. To save us.
Not to save the righteous.
Sinners. “I came not to call
the righteous, but sinners” (Matt. 9:13). We have no righteousness of our own. But He is our righteousness. As God says through the Prophet Jeremiah, “In
[Jesus’] days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be
called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness’” (Jer. 23:6).
Who is this Man? He is the One who takes the sins of sinners,
the sins of the whole world, my sins and yours, upon Himself, and puts them to
death in His body on Calvary. He is the
One who sheds His blood, who dies our death, who is buried in our tomb. He is the One who is risen from the dead,
lives, and reigns, and will raise us, and give eternal life to us, and to all
who believe in Him.
And He is the One who still
receives sinners and eats with them.
What is He doing for us today? He
is speaking His Words into our ears, and placing His Words upon our lips as we
sing and confess. He is absolving us: “I
forgive you all your sins,” He says, through the mouth of His called and
ordained servant. He is breathing His
Spirit into us, even now, as the holy wind of His Word blows through the
building. And in a few moments, what
will He do, but bid you come to His Table and eat with Him.
And then, He’ll send you on your
way… note this, this is very important… changed. Different than you were before. When Jesus receives sinners, just as they
are, without one plea, it is a beautiful thing, but understand, He doesn’t leave
them that way. He forgives
their sins, and then sends them out healed, whole, and new. What do the tax-collectors, like Matthew,
like Zacchaeus, do once they’ve drawn near to Jesus? They do things like give half their
possessions to the poor, and restore four-fold whatever they’ve stolen (Luke 19:8). What do sinners, like the woman caught in
adultery, do once they’ve fallen before Jesus’ merciful feet? They cling to the Words, “Neither do I
condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11). The blind who receive their sight, don’t go
wandering back into their blindness. The
crippled who have taken up their beds to go home, don’t lay back down on them
and refuse to use their limbs. What a
squandering of the Lord’s gifts! This is
an important point to make, because some falsely believe and teach that our
Lord’s receiving sinners and eating with them means we can do whatever
we want, with nary a worry about offending God or falling from faith
by disregarding His Word. And then we
can waltz right back to Church every Sunday for our weekly dose of forgiveness…
or, more probably, what we’re seeking… justification, not from
our sins, or in spite of our sins… but justification for our
sins, and in our sins. Lord, have
mercy. That is not what this text means. That is not what Jesus does.
Beloved, when our Lord has had His
way with you, receiving you to Himself, feeding you, and eating with you, He
then sends you out with a whole new life… His life. Not so that you can go out and sin a bunch
more, knowing you have a get-out-of-hell free card. No.
But so that you can live each day as a New Creation, as God’s own,
precious, blood-bought child. Jesus
sends you out with His blessing, His Name, His presence. A member of His Bride, the Church, shining
forth the Light of His Word, sweeping and seeking other lost coins for the
Kingdom. Living always in His
righteousness. Oh, you will sin
when you go out. No denying that, this
side of the veil. Old Adam again. Push him back down under the water. Daily.
But also, daily emerge and arise to live before God in Christ. As one who keeps coming back to Jesus. Who keeps drawing near, to hear Him. Because you know He’ll always receive you
with open arms, and pierced hands. And there
will always be a place for you at His Table.
“This man receives sinners and
eats with them” (Luke 15:2). Thank
God, fellow sinners. Thank God. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X,
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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