The Second Sunday after Pentecost
June 7, 2026
TEXT: Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
Good morning Seekers. I have a question for you. How many of you look for a handrail when you go up or down a flight of stairs? [show of hands] As we continue to explore the “call to evolve,” I’ve heard some grumbling about using the common lectionary – which we chose to claim our connection with the worldwide Christian movement. Now it seems to curb our creativity.
But I want to suggest that using the Lectionary is like using a handrail to support movement or a change of direction. It’s a useful balance for our creativity.
Every three years, we cycle through the same readings – and yes, there are many women’s stories left out that way, but we can find ways to bring our own stories into the framework of these archetypal stories. The words are the same but WE change over time and we bring ourselves to the text from a different place or a different perspective.
For example, I once read scripture as factual, as though caught on a video camera, and I was frankly critical of courses that taught the Bible as literature. But then, in seminary, I began to read biblical text as a constructed narrative for a particular audience – and to notice differences in how the same story might be presented in different Gospels. Later, I was exposed to Jungian thought about archetypal stories that appear in many different cultures – and realized that many biblical stories have that symbolic quality too. And finally, I realized that I am bringing my own experience to these stories in a way that gives them a more personal meaning – one that can be lived out in a community like ours. That’s why I favor hanging onto the lectionary as a “through line” for preaching here at Seekers.
I love the challenge of wrestling with a given text, to see whether some unexpected meaning reveals itself. Here’s a 4-step approach that works for dreams as well as biblical text.
Step 1: What’s the setting? Jesus is “walking along,” sees a tax collector named Matthew, and invites him into the circle of disciples. Right away, we know that means trouble. Tax collectors were agents of the state, collaborators with Rome, and often extortionists as well. Commoners (like the fishermen that Jesus had already called) generally hated tax collectors! Jesus seems to be questioning assumptions or inviting conflict.
Then we are told that Jesus was eating with tax collectors and other sinners – which broke Temple dietary rules. Pharisees, who are strict observers of Temple rules, ask the disciples WHY Jesus would eat with such people – and the author of Matthew puts these words in Jesus’ mouth: “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ The “I” here is Yahweh, the Holy One. That’s the outer framework of the story. [gesture]
[Here I could tell you about a novel that’s on the bestseller list right now: Theo of Golden, which is centered on mercy and belief, but I won’t this time.]
Step 2: A conflict emerges. A prominent church leader kneels down and begs Jesus to lay hands on his little daughter to bring her back to life. Kneeling relinquishes his high-power position and acknowledges Jesus’ life-giving charism. The leader has come down [gesture] to their common humanity, to the love of parent for child, and Jesus responds with mercy, not judgment, by walking with him toward his home.
[As an inner symbolic journey, we might ask “Where is our undeveloped feminine needing help or healing? How does that show up? How could healing happen? ]
Step 3: The focal point or key event. A woman who has been bleeding for 12 years presses thru the crowd to touch the hem of Jesus’ cloak for her own healing. Think about that: continual menstruation for 12 years. Smelly, shunned, anemic, desperate, unclean – pushing her way through the crowd because she wants healing! Wholeness! She wants to belong — to be human again. In other versions of this story, Jesus feels power go out of himself. In this version, he simply turns and says “Your faith has made you well.” NOT my power has made you well.
Again, Jesus demonstrates mercy. He invites her UP to our common humanity. She is now able to walk freely in the company of others, to move through a crowd without rejection or revulsion.
[As an inner journey, we might ask “Where is my life -energy draining away? Keeping me distracted or isolated? Where do I need healing? How can I reach out for that?]
Step 4: Where the soul wants to go. Then the story opens out again: Jesus reaches the church leader’s home, shoos away the funeral crowd, reaches out his hand to the girl and she gets up, now alive and well.
Like most teaching stories, we are left to imagine the outcome – for the disciples and the Pharisees, for the recipients of Matthew’s gospel who are hearing this story for the first time, or the fifth, or for their 50th anniversary.
What does this have to do with Seekers today? Let’s start with the point of the story: Go and learn the meaning of ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ To do that, Jesus invites the Temple leader DOWN from his position of authority, to the common ground of love by a father for his daughter. And Jesus invites the bleeding woman UP from her marginal role to a place of respect and belonging. I see that practice – of meeting each other at the level of our common humanity – as a primary value here at Seekers.
The open pulpit is a good example. We value different voices, different experiences, not a single authoritative voice. We trust each other not to misuse the time and attention of the community. We don’t flaunt credentials and yet we respect skill and experience. We give authority to those who are called but we reject hierarchy. We care for one another and expect self-correction too. We practice loving one another as Jesus loved his disciples, with mercy and challenge.
Peter and I have just returned from our 65th college reunions. Everyone was 86 or 87. Advanced age made all of us more humble – although some embody that better than others. I could see that Peter and I have been seriously shaped toward servant leadership by belonging to Seekers over the years.
As you can imagine, each reunion featured a memorial service. I want to begin with Peter’s offering, because he is too modest to share it. He volunteered to organize their memorial service on zoom, so everyone could share in it. He chose inclusive readings, solicited different readers for the list of names, allowed for silence with soft music and a visual of the altar in their beautiful Sarinen chapel and was able to adjust when the first speaker was unable to come. Later we learned that Peter’s memorial service was honored by the alumni association and will be used as a model by other reunion classes. I think it was his Celebration Circle experience that gave him the confidence to do that.
My experience was quite different. Our memorial service was in person, with an elaborate bulletin and a big choir. At the last minute, the one woman in my class who is an Episcopal priest and was therefore in charge – was taken to the hospital with pneumonia and somebody else had to read her sermon – in a voice we could barely hear.
Following that, I was the first reader of seven men and women who named those who had died since our last reunion, and I was told afterward that I was the only woman they could hear. I think that’s because none of the other women were used to speaking in a congregational setting. [I could be wrong about that, but I do think we learn a lot here at Seekers by leading worship, preaching periodically, and doing the work of community rather than hiring a staff to do it].
Here’s one last reunion story. In between the two celebrations, we drove north into Maine. When we got to Bar Harbor, we had dinner with Rob and Cristy Benson, who used to be part of this congregation. Rob was a hospice chaplain then, and he was the one who got us to be the August pastors on Matinicus Island. Rob has been the senior pastor at the UCC church for the past 12 years. Their big news is that Rob has been selected to be the multi-faith chaplain at Bates College (in Lewiston ME), where Christo Dahlin went. He was delighted to hear that we recently had a course on “interspirituality.” The timing was perfect.
The lectionary reading assigned for today gave me a framework to think about the radical path that Jesus walked. How he invited the mighty and powerful to let go of rank and position privilege to meet one another on the path of our common humanity. How he also invited others to STAND UP and claim their humanity by healing wounds of discrimination and physical difference. And how, through scripture AND practice, Jesus continues teaching us how to love one another as he loved his disciples – by inviting both men and women, insider and outcast, into his circle of friends.
For me, using the lectionary is like using a handrail to steady my feet as I change direction, climb stairs and find my way in the dark.
May it always be so, Amen.