"And as [Jesus] sat at dinner in Levi's house, many tax collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus and his disciples--for there were many who followed him. When the scribes of the Pharisees saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, they said to his disciples, 'Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?' When Jesus heard this, he said to them, 'Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners'." [Mark 2:15-17]
"They're just not OUR kind of people..."
The church that speaks those words has just consigned itself to hospice care. It is dying; perhaps no small part of it is already dead.
That doesn't mean such a deathly sentence isn't spoken around church meeting tables, or whispered under steeples. Quite the contrary--that sentiment is spoken with tragic frequency. It doesn't mean those words aren't dangerous; it just means that a lot more of our Respectably Religious worship buildings are dying on the inside than anybody wants to admit.
"They're just not OUR kind of people," says the church looking down its nose at the neighbors down the street, while it wonders why nobody new darkens its doors on Sunday mornings.
"They're just not OUR kind of people," says the people in the pew upset at the barely-contained ruckus made by the family with a gaggle of young children coloring noisily in their pews... until the family takes the not-so-subtle hint of the cold shoulder, and disappears.
"They're just not OUR kind of people," say the congregational leaders at the "meeting-after-the-meeting" when they shake their heads about the woman with the bright blue hair and sleeve tattoos who had worked up the nerve and courage to come in to worship last Sunday, while the murmurers from the Board secretly wish she would not come back so that things don't get stirred up.
"They're just not OUR kind of people," goes the unspoken refrain, like a silent litany across the congregation, when the family that is new to town and who has clearly moved from another country and still is struggling with the language, shows up on Sunday. Or it's the guy everybody knows is only two weeks sober (and, whose hands looked to be jittery when he was sharing the peace, just saying)... or the couple of twenty-something young women who come in holding hands... or it's the one guy in the neighborhood that everybody just knows voted differently from the overwhelming majority of yard signs in town.
"They're just not OUR kind of people," decrees the Respectable Religious Crowd, thinking that it is the arbiter of who is acceptable to God, and who is not... thinking that it is a secure and stable institution of the community, sure to last forever. But the moment the sentence is spoken, or even thought, the Respectable Religious Crowd of Saint Reputable the Prim Church have consigned themselves to death as a church of Jesus Christ.
And I say that, not because the church has to chase after anybody and everybody to yield some new members... and not because the church needs to "market itself" to a wider "demographic group" if it wants to stay "relevant." I say it, not because the church needs to worry about just getting larger Sunday attendance so it can prop up its own survival.
Rather, I say that it is deadly to mutter, "They're just not OUR kind of people," about anybody, because whoever "they" are, they are Jesus' kind of people. All of them, from the noisy kids to the questionably recovering addict and everybody in between, they are all Jesus' kind of people. He made a point, not only of saying so, but of actually surrounding himself with the folks who got labeled "Not Our Kind Of People," in first century Galilee. And if the church wants to be where Jesus is (and pretty much, that should be the defining characteristic of "church"), we will have to be prepared to deliberately share tables and coffees and lunches and conversations and love with exactly the list of folks that still get labeled, "Not OUR Kind of People."
It is not simply a question of "increasing church growth" or even "sustaining worship attendance and membership numbers." It is simply a question of faithfulness to Jesus. You want to be church? You show up where Jesus is... and Jesus is with precisely the people who have been told somewhere along the way that they don't belong.
As we begin a new focus this month on "the people of Jesus," we are going to have to go in with open eyes and honest hearts here: the folks Jesus chooses to surround himself with may or may not fit your or my picture of "our kind of people." In fact, Jesus' crowd is undoubtedly wider, broader, and more eclectic than we are going to be comfortable with. Admitting that Jesus is pushing us out of our comfort zone is OK. But getting up on our feet and going over to sit at Jesus' table with that motley crew of anybodies and everybodies and nobodies is what truly makes us church.
So, let's say it, just to be clear here: there are people who voted differently from the way you did (and who will again vote differently next time around) whom Jesus will share a table with. And there are people whose language is different from yours or mine, and Jesus is sitting with them, too (Jesus, after all, did not speak English, either). And there are people whose family structures look wildly different from yours or mine, people whose dress code and personal style make us a little on edge, people who are raising their kids differently from the way you raised yours, and people who struggle with things you have never had to wrestle with... and Jesus has invited himself to all of their parties and is having a marvelous time in their company.
The only question, really, is whether you and I want to be where Jesus is... or whether even he won't make the cut of "our kind of people."
I recommend we dare to take a seat at whatever table Jesus is at.
Lord Jesus, we dare to believe you have already called us and claimed us... now give us the courage and love to go where you go and to share our lives, our tables, and our love with the folks who are waiting to hear you love them.
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