The Tax Collector and The Savior or A Story of Grace

The Tax Collector and The Savior or A Story of Grace

Levi lived in the region of Galilee that consisted of small towns and villages. Galilee’s residents weren’t an elite class of people – they were common folk, mostly farmers and fishermen. Yet Jesus chose all his disciples (except for Judas Iscariot) from Galilee. Christ deliberately passed over the religious and influential, and instead chose a group of common (and yes, believe it or not, sinful) men to be His disciples.

Unfortunately, Levi held one of the most despised positions in all of Israel – he was a tax collector – also called a publican. Tax collectors were hated by all of Jewish society, and were even more despised than the Roman soldiers who occupied Israel at that time.

Tax collectors were men who bought tax franchises from the Roman emperor and then extorted money from the people of Israel – this money was added to the Roman treasury and also padded the pockets of the tax collector. Tax collectors had no moral integrity, and wouldn’t hesitate to use force to get their pay. They were despicable lowlifes of society and were treated as such.

For a Jewish man like Levi to be a tax collector was even worse. His occupation made him a traitor to the nation, a complete social outcast. He was in essence worse off religiously than a Gentile, one of them “other’ people.

In the parable of the tax collector and the Pharisee in Luke 18:10-14, the tax collector stood “at a distance”. He had to - tax collectors had to keep their distance from any group, because they were so hated.

So, yes, Levi was a sinner and more – a despised tax collector.

Yet, what a wonderful thing happened to this sinner! – “…as Jesus left the town, he saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at his tax collector’s booth. “Follow me and be my disciple,” Jesus said to him. (Luke 5:27)

Oh, by the way, this tax collector also was called Matthew. He became one of Jesus’ apostles and wrote the first book of the New Testament.

He instantly and without hesitation left his old life behind forever, and followed the Lord.

Can you imagine the religious leaders reacted when Jesus called a tax collector to become part of his inner circle? They must have gasped… or even worse!

Matthew began his book listing the Jesus’ lineage or his ancestors. And this list was not an “unflawed” group of people. Within the lineage of Jesus the Messiah, was a handful of colorful characters. There were liars, swindlers, and lawbreakers. There was a murderer, a slave trader, an adulterer, and a prostitute.

When Jesus began his ministry, he found the nation of Israel divided over the issue of personal righteousness; that is, how a person gains and maintains good standing with God. One group argued that a person could earn a right standing with God by keeping the law. To do this, however, they had to perfect the art of self-delusion. In addition to that, they had to dumb down certain commandments to bring them in alignment with the behaviors they had no intention of changing.

On the other hand there were those who refused to live in a continuous state of denial regarding their personal unrighteousness. If the Law was the standard, they knew they would never be good enough to earn God's favor. So they simply kept their distance. Mutual contempt held the self-righteous and the self-condemned full resentment toward each other. The self-righteous considered themselves better than the admittedly unrighteous. And the unrighteous felt judged by the so-called righteous, while at the same time seeing the hypocrisy between what they claimed to be and what they actually were.

By the time Jesus showed up, the temple had become the place where this division was most evident. Jesus illustrated the problem with a parable, most likely based on an actual event. “Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, and the other was a despised tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed this prayer: ‘I thank you, God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else. For I don’t cheat, I don’t sin, and I don’t commit adultery. I’m certainly not like that tax collector! I fast twice a week, and I give you a tenth of my income. But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, ‘O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.’ (Luke 18:10-14)

That pretty much summed it up: one group who are not as good as they think they are, and another group who know they are not as good as they need to be. And there they were, together in the temple, the very place where God desired to dwell with men and atone for their sin. The very design of the temple with its various gates and plazas stood as an invitation to sinners, both Jewish and non-Jewish. (That’s why there was a “Court of the Gentiles”). In the temple there was no room for self-righteousness and there was no need to cower behind one's sinfulness. But, it seemed everyone had missed the point. The self-righteous chased sinners away and their own shame kept the sinners running.

And then Jesus showed up. He came to break the stalemate (or tie) between self-deluded self-righteous folks and “honest to goodness” sinners. He came to shine a penetrating light of reality on the self-righteous and to offer those who were full of shame a way back. When Jesus met Matthew, he certainly needed a way back. So when Jesus said, "Follow me," that's exactly what Matthew did. He got up and followed. But Jesus didn't lead him to the temple. He invited himself over to Matthew's house. And oddly enough, Matthew didn't object. In fact, he got the word out to his friends that he was throwing an impromptu party and that everybody was invited.

Before long, Matthew's home was filled with fellow tax collectors, along with a broad assortment of less-than-righteous riffraff from all around the city. The Rahabs, Bathshebas, Judahs, and Davids of Capernaum all showed up for this unique celebration. They dined on Matthew's food and drank his wine, along with Jesus and his posse, who probably laughed and sang with Matthew's motley collection of religious and social outcasts. There under one roof was righteousness personified, celebrating right alongside unrighteousness on steroids. On that hot Middle Eastern afternoon, Matthew's home became a place of grace. For a brief time it served as a substitute temple of sorts. Here the righteous and the unrighteous had come together as they were, with no pretense for being anything other than who they knew themselves to be. And Jesus was supremely comfortable. Don't rush by that too quickly. Jesus, God in a body, was not uncomfortable surrounded by those who most needed the bridge back to God that only grace could provide.
But not everybody felt the way Jesus did. Standing on the outside of that unusual dinner party were the religious icons of the community. The teachers of the Law. The Pharisees. The good people. Even if they were invited, they would never dream of entering a so-called sinner's home. To do so would be to compromise their ceremonial purity. One touch from a sinner such as Matthew would require hours of washing. For this group, sin was a communicable disease. So it was always best to keep one's distance. As they huddled together, casting disparaging glances toward the party, they grumbled to some of Jesus' disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with such scum? (Matt. 9:11).
Interesting question. We must assume they asked this because they really did not understand how a man who claimed to be from God would get so close to those who were nothing like God. How was it that a man who was nothing like Matthew seemed to like Matthew? They had no category for this. And they had no patience for it either.
When Jesus heard about the objections of the religious elite gathered outside, he sent them a message: “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do." (Matt. 9:12). Jesus was playing to their thinking for the moment. They assumed they were healthy. They assumed Matthew and his crew were sick. Jesus then quoted an Old Testament passage (Hosea 6:6) that would have been very familiar to the Pharisees. He said, "I want you to show mercy, not offer sacrifices.” (Matthew 9:13b) The Greek word for mercy was the term used to describe God's grace. "I desire grace, not sacrifice." His point? God prioritizes grace over sacrifice. Then Jesus offered them his one-sentence mission statement: "I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Matt. 9:13).
Here, Jesus used the terms righteous and sinners with pointed sarcasm. It was his way of saying, "I have not come to call those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners." If we could freeze that moment in time, we would be left with a startling and perhaps uncomfortable truth: grace is inviting to the unrighteous and threatening to the self-righteous.
Jesus' invitation for Matthew to become his follower, combined with his presence at Matthew's home, confirmed beyond all doubt that grace is not earned; it is offered. This was not a new idea. It was as old as the Garden of Eden. But as would happen time and time again, the simple message of grace had been buried under a mountain of religious complexity - complexity created by men who sought to earn their righteousness rather than admit, and rest in, the truth that there is no righteousness apart from that which is given by grace.
The tension between the self-righteous and the self-exiled did not end with the coming of Jesus. It is a tension that exists to this very day. So maybe this would be a good time to stop and ask ourselves, "To which side of the aisle do I tend to lean?" If we had been invited to Matthew's party, would we have hesitated? Would our first inclination be to stand on the outside and wonder? Would we wonder why Jesus would fellowship with sinners before confronting their sin? Would we be concerned that by not addressing their sin Jesus was in some way condoning it?
Or would you lean the other way? Are there things about your current lifestyle or perhaps your past that would give you pause before walking into the presence of Jesus? Would a cloud of shame form overhead? Would you be tempted to stand outside in the hopes of catching a glimpse while avoiding eye contact? After all, we know. We know who we are and who we pretend to be. To bring all of that into the presence of pure righteousness? Wouldn’t we be crazy not to pause? Or would we?

Chances are, there's a little bit of both in all of us. We are judgmental of certain types of people or behaviors, and then we can turn around and put ourselves in time-out-self-inflicted exile from the presence of God. But in either case we step onto the well-worn path of graceless religion. Either way you choose you find yourself further from the grace of God.

Here’s where Matthew would tell us after watching Jesus there's a third way. The way of grace. The way of grace is offered; it is not earned. It is offered to all people, regardless of who they are. So, when you catch yourself bouncing back and forth between judging others and condemning yourself, pause. Pause and remember: you can't be good enough; you don't even have to be. That is the way of grace.

Note: Parts of this lesson are from Andy Stanley’s book: The Grace of God