Variety: Matthew 9v10–13
‘And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.’
Matthew 9:10–13
Meals matter. They’re more than just food: they’re moments of connection. Who we invite to our table says something about who we are and what we value.
That’s why Jesus’ dinner at Matthew’s house caused such a stir. Matthew was a tax collector collaborating with the Roman occupiers, despised by his neighbours, considered ritually unclean. In other words, he was exactly the kind of person most people avoided. Yet when Jesus saw him, he didn’t cross the street. He said simply, ‘Follow me’ (v9). And Matthew did.
The very next scene shows Jesus at Matthew’s table, surrounded by ‘tax collectors and sinners’. For the religious leaders, this was outrageous. Meals in the ancient world were acts of fellowship and acceptance. By eating with Matthew and his friends, Jesus wasn’t just sharing bread – he was doing theology.
The Pharisees thought belonging should come after repentance. Clean yourself up first, then you’ll be welcomed. Jesus flipped that on its head. He offered belonging first, trusting that love, grace, and truth would lead to transformation. As he put it, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick… I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’
So what does this mean for us?
First, it reminds us that none of us deserves our place at the table with Jesus: it’s given by grace. That should keep us humble, reliant, and grateful as we go about our everyday mission. Being invited to God’s table frees us from performance-driven living, and reminds us that our value is inherent, not earned.
Second, it challenges us to rethink our own tables. Whom do we naturally welcome? Whom do we avoid? In our workplaces, neighbourhoods, and even churches, it’s easy to draw boundaries – consciously or not – about who ‘fits’. But Jesus pulls up chairs for those others despise and avoid. Could our own hospitality reflect that?
Finally, it prepares us to be misunderstood. Grace is risky. Mercy looks reckless. When we choose to include people others have written off, we may face raised eyebrows or even criticism. But that puts us right where Jesus was.
This week, as you sit at your desk, around your dinner table, or in a meeting room, remember: every table can become a place of grace. And just as Jesus welcomed Matthew, he welcomes us – and calls us to extend that same welcome to others.
Paul Woolley