Levi [Matthew] held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Luke 5:29–32
It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes. I tell you the truth, he will dress himself to serve, will have them recline at the table and will come and wait on them. Luke 12:37
Dear Lord Jesus, I can’t read these Scriptures without having my longings stoked for the quintessential banquet for which we are destined; the culinary gathering to top all gastronomic merriments; the feast which will take festivity to its all time heights and sensate satisfaction—the wedding feast of the Lamb.
And who will you seat and serve on this most blessed of events? A most astounding group of ill-deserving invitees—only those who’ve been saved by grace alone through faith alone; only tax collectors and “sinners,” Pharisees and teachers of the law, the soul sick and sinned soaked, clothed in the wedding garments of your righteousness. What a great and gracious Savior you are!
Jesus, I praise you for making me a part of your broken-yet-beloved bride; for calling me, healing me, saving me; for securing my place at your . I have no problem acknowledging the depths of my sickness and the glories of your grace. There’s no greater friend of sinners than you. Thank you for eating and drinking, reclining and dining, fellowshipping and communing with the likes of us.
Oh, that Pharisees and “older brothers” (Luke 15) were compelled to criticize us because of all the sick people and broken people filling our churches—drawn there by the magnetic pull of the gospel. This would surely be a sign of revival; a clear indication of your presence in our midst; a confirmation of the actual health of our churches. Forgive us for the ways we fail to extend your welcoming heart, and forgive me for having an ingrown heart.
Oh, to be more like Levi—to be so impacted by your love, Lord Jesus, that I’m constantly throwing mini-banquets for my friends. Make this concave heart of mine much more convex—much more friendly to outsiders; much more sensitive to your redeeming work in my community; much more intentional about sharing the gospel with others, by word and deed. Make my heart much more like yours, Jesus. So very Amen I pray, in your merciful and mighty name.
