Today, we will be gathering at the table and sharing in the sacrament of Holy Communion. One traditional communion liturgy, one many of us grew up saying, includes what is called the prayer of humble access. Some of you may know this. Listen to these words:

‘We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table.’

I always hated that. I do not believe that we have to grovel for God’s favor and love. So many of the images we read in the Gospels has Jesus proclaiming the exact opposite message. Jesus tells us, all of us, that we are indeed worthy. My faith tells me that our God and our Lord focus on lifting us up, not on demeaning us and putting us down. We come to church, in part, to hear a message of hope and redemption, not one of judgment and shame.

Let us think for a moment how very radical Jesus’ inclusivity really was. 

In the 1C, children were not seen to be much more than the animals. They were relegated to the sidelines until they were old enough to be a financial asset to the family. Until then not only were they not to be heard, but they were not even to be seen. But what did Jesus do? Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me. Do not hinder them for to such belongs the kin-dom of God.” Jesus looked with love and kindness upon the children and called them worthy.

Or how about women? Women were literally regarded as chattel. They were the property of men: their faithers first, then sold to their husbands, who had total control over their lives. If they did not have a husband to care for and provide for them, they were to rely on their closest male heir. Single women were the poorest of the poor and the most vulnerable. Their lives were on the streets and they were at constant risk. But what did Jesus do? Jesus welcomed women into his closest circle. It is widely believed that women were among his disciples. They were the first ones to whom the risen Christ appeared and it was to them he entrusted his message of resurrection and new life. Jesus looked at the women in his life and had compassion on them and respect for them, and Jesus called them worthy.

Jesus raised a young girl, Tabitha, to new life, he healed a shunned, nameless woman who had been suffering with a horrible hemorrhaging condition for years, although his religion and culture forbade it, he spoke to a Samaritan woman and offered her living water. At the pleading of Lazarus’ sisters, Jesus went to his burial site and called Lazarus to step out of the darkness of a tomb and into the light of day. According to the dictates of his culture and the doctrines of his faith, Jesus should have done none of these things. They were in fact tabu. But Jesus looked upon all those who came to him for healing or respect or inclusion and called them, all of them, worthy.

In today’s lesson a centurion comes to Jesus asking for healing for his beloved servant who is paralyzed and in incredible pain. Jesus doesn’t miss a beat, without a moment’s hesitation, Jesus said to the centurion, “I will come and heal him.” 

But the centurion replies that he is not worthy to have Jesus come to his home. But he has such faith and deeply believes that Jesus can and will heal his servant that he goes on to say, “but just say the word and he will be healed.” What did Jesus do? Jesus did not go to the man’s house. He did not need to go there to do what he knew he was going to do. From a distance, he healed the man’s servant. Jesus looked upon him with compassion, commended him for his faith, and called him worthy. 

The man’s slave would not have been regarded as one worthy of healing or even of medical attention. Slaves were regarded as being subhuman. But what did Jesus do? Jesus saw him as A PERSON in need of healing and wholeness. Jesus, without seeing him, claimed him as worthy and healed him. Both the centurion and his servant were seen as being worthy. 

Friends, we live in a time when we, and especially our children and our youth, are constantly being bombarded with the message that we are not good enough, we are not successful enough, we are not attractive enough. Commercials try so hard to convince us that because we are not worthy as we are that we need to purchase their product to make us fit a cultural definition of beauty. We buy books and attend workshops that aim to help us improve or fix ourselves so that we will be deemed worthy. Worthy of being in a relationship. Worthy of getting that promotion or that raise. 

We spend so much time and energy working hard to have others regard as being worthy. Worthy of fitting in and being included and accepted. Worthy of being treated with dignity and respect. Worthy of having our gifts and contributions recognized and acknowledged. 

The cacophony of voices telling us that we are not worthy, or at least not worthy enough, can get so loud and be so persistent, especially now with the ever present messaging of social media, that they drown out the still, small voice of God. But in the silences. When we pause to breathe. When we sit still and allow ourselves to simply be without pressure to be anything or anyone else, we can hear God’s powerful message of all embracing love. God created us in God’s own image. God looks upon us and calls us good. Not just good enough but exceedingly good. God looks upon us and says to us that we are worthy. Worthy of being loved. Worthy of being accepted and affirmed. Worthy of being God’s very own precious and beloved children. God says that we are worthy!

One of the highlights of annual conference every year is the ordination service. All the clergy process in, fully robed and wearing a vast array of colorful stoles. The ordination class is led in and they take their place up front. The presiding bishop asks them the historical questions and they give the appropriate responses. Then the Bishop turns to the gathered clergy and asks us if we find these persons worthy. Worthy of being ordained into ministry in the United Methodist Church. Worthy of being one of our colleagues and partners in ministry. The clergy rise as one and in one voice loudly and joyously proclaim, “Yes. Worthy!” Followed by enthusiastic applause and cheers. I believe God is joining in this celebration and shouting with us: “Yes!! Worthy!” This simple but powerful ritual always makes me cry. It makes me cry because it is such a beautiful witness to the power of love to transcend differences and to see each other as we are: brothers and sisters in Christ, colleagues in ministry, and to know that we are all worthy in the eyes of God. 

So friends, no matter what other messages you may have heard and maybe even internalized, today, right now, I want you hear God say to you: You are my beloved child and you are indeed exceedingly worthy.

Want to close with the refrain to a Gaither song:

Something beautiful, something good, all my confusion God understood.

All I had to offer was brokenness and strife,

But God made something beautiful of my life.

Amen.