June 7, 2026 - sermon - Michael Anthony Howard

Sermon Text...

 

Rev. Michael Anthony Howard

June 7, 2026

"The Table of Mercy"

 

 Matthew 9:9–17 
9 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.

 

10 And as he sat at dinner[a] in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting[b] with Jesus and his disciples. 11 When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 12 But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. 13 Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

 

14 Then the disciples of John came to him, saying, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast often,[c] but your disciples do not fast?” 15 And Jesus said to them, “The wedding attendants cannot mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them, can they? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast. 16 No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old cloak, for the patch pulls away from the cloak, and a worse tear is made. 17 Neither is new wine put into old wineskins; otherwise, the skins burst, and the wine is spilled, and the skins are ruined, but new wine is put into fresh wineskins, and so both are preserved.”

 

 I. What We Call Things Matters 

 

What do you call a person? That may sound like a strange question. But names matter. Words matter. The language we use shapes the way we see the world. 

 

 Last week I referred to one of our local landmarks by the name I had read about called Squaw Rock. That’s even what my map called it. 

 

 Several people gently corrected me. Not to shame me. Not to embarrass me. But to teach me. 

 

 I later learned that the name carried a history I did not understand. A word that may once have been used descriptively had become a word used to diminish and demean Indigenous women.  The correction was not condemnation. The correction was an invitation. I saw it as an invitation to see more clearly, to learn a better name. It heard it as an invitation to let the truth stretch me.  

 

And that, I think, is what Jesus means when he talks about new wine and new wineskins.  The wine is alive. The wine is still working. And because the wine is still working, the wineskin must stretch.

  

II. The Story of Scripture Is a Story of a Widening Table 

 

 The whole story of Scripture is a story of God stretching God's people. Abraham is blessed so that all families of the earth might be blessed.  Israel is delivered from Egypt and called to become a kingdom of priests. 

 

 The prophets continually call the people back to mercy. Not because the covenant was wrong. Not because Torah had failed. But because people had forgotten what it was for. 

 

 Go and learn what this means, The prophet Hosea says: I desire mercy and not sacrifice. What good are your rituals if you don’t know the heart of God? 

 

 The heart of God is mercy. The purpose was always healing, always restoration. The purpose was always mercy.  

 

The wine is still working. But that means that the wineskin have to stretch. So much of Scripture Seems to be centrally focused around a table.  Passover. Manna. Jesus' meals. Acts. Galatians. Corinthians. 

 

 Again and again the question becomes: Who gets to sit at the table? Who belongs? Who is welcome? 

 

 There is an old Jewish tradition that whenever Israel renews the covenant, room is left for Elijah. Sometimes it is called is Elijah’s Seat. Even Passover has an Elijah's Cup. Stories tell of Elijah appearing not in glory… but as a traveler, a beggar, a stranger… an unexpected guest. 

 

 Leave room at the table for the one you do not expect. 

 

 Perhaps that is why Jesus kept getting into trouble because of the company he kept.  Where others saw tax collectors and sinners. Jesus saw guests whom God had already invited. 

 

 There was new wine was working. And that means the wineskin are going to have to stretch.  

 

 III. Matthew's Table 

 

 Then we arrive at today's Gospel. Jesus walks by a tax booth. He sees a man sitting there. And he says: Follow me.  Then Jesus sits down at table with him. And that is where the controversy begins. Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?

 

 Now I want you to notice something…  Jesus does not defend Matthew. He does not argue Matthew’s qualifications. He does not offer a résumé. He simply sits down. 

 

 And I think there is a deeper question hidden beneath the text. Why Matthew? Because the crowd sees a tax collector. Jesus sees Mattityahu: the “Gift of Yahweh.” 

 

The crowd sees a category. Jesus sees a name. The crowd sees a sinner. Jesus sees a beloved child of God. 

 

 The prophet Isaiah says: “I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine.” 

 

 Before anyone called Matthew a tax collector, God called him beloved. Before anyone called Matthew a sinner, God called him beloved. Before anyone called Matthew a traitor, God called him beloved. Jesus knows his name. The name he was given… before the foundation of the earth.  

 

The wine is still working. But that wineskin has gotta stretch.  

 

IV. A Federated Table 

 

 And perhaps that is part of what it means to be Federated. Federation was not merger. Merger asks: Which identity survives? Which identity wins? Which identity disappears? 

 

 Federation asks: Can we sit at the same table together? Can we remain ourselves and still belong to one another? Presbyterians. Methodists. Episcopalians. Catholics. Disciples. Congregationalists. Evangelicals. Pentecostals. Seekers. Doubters. 

 

 The table does not erase our difference. The table gathers us because of our differences, And calls us holy! 

 

 You do not have to stop being who you are to come to the table.  But if you truly come to the table  you should expect the table to change you.  That is the miracle. The table does not erase Matthew. The table reveals Matthew.  

 

The wine is still working. But that wineskin’s stretch.  

 

V. Invitation to the Table 

 

 One of my habits at communion is that I often try to say your name.  “Karen, the body of Christ broken for you.” “Ken, the body of Christ broken for you.” “Byron, Christ’s love poured out for you for you.”  

 

 Though every once in a while I misread a name tag. “Jim, the body of Christ broken for you.”  And then I look up. “Oh. Sorry, Jeff.” 

 

 Names matter. We all want to be known. We all want to be seen. That is why I say your name. Not because I need to remember who you are. Though it really helps. But because God already does. Before anyone called you sinner or saint.  Before anyone called you liberal or conservative. Before anyone called you success or failure. Before anyone called you anything else— God called you beloved. 

 

 And that is why we come to this table. Not because we have already changed. Not because we have already arrived. Not because we have already become worthy. We come because the table is where God changes us. 

 

 The wine is still fermenting. The mercy is still widening. The Spirit is still stretching the wineskin. And there is room for you at the table. 

 

Amen.