Jesus Always Does
In an episode from Season 7 of The Office (the best television show ever created, and yes, I’ll fight you on this) Kevin, the bumbling, blundering, awkward, balding, slow-witted accountant tells the audience that there are two types of people in this world:
“There are some people who have charm and some who don’t. Guess what kind I am? Charm type!”
We don’t often see ourselves clearly, do we? And while this is all the better for television comedies, it can get us into a whole lot of trouble in our Christian lives if we aren’t careful.
I know I’m not the only one who has felt outraged at the tiny speck of sawdust in my neighbor’s eye while looking right past the plank in my own.
But the topsy-turvy good news of the gospel is that we don’t have to have it all together. In fact, those who are the shiniest on the outside are often the closest to death on the inside. Think of Jesus’ outburst at the prim and proper Pharisees that they were but “whitewashed tombs.” Ouch. These religious leaders tithed 10 percent of all they owned, down to the tiniest pinch of spice from their shelves, but their hearts were a mess.
In Matthew 9, Jesus calls Matthew to be his disciple. Matthew, the tax collector, despised for his profession. (I always picture Maggie Gyllenhaal’s bakery owner in the movie Stranger than Fiction yelling at Will Farrell’s IRS agent with disdain. “Taxmaaaaaaan,” she shouts. “Boooooooo, Taxmaaaaaaaan!”)
“Follow me,” Jesus said, and Matthew got up and followed him. (Matt. 9:9)
Then Jesus goes a step further, accepting ancient hospitality that was the modern-day equivalent of saying, “This person is my person. We are friends”—Jesus dines at Matthew’s home. Needless to say, having this holy and wise teacher sitting at his table attracted quite a crowd. IRS agents (well, tax collectors) “and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples” (see Matt. 9:10).
While this crowd—spurned by society, living on the fringes, profiting off the populace, friendless and alone—is gathered over a meal, another type of crowd forms. I can almost picture them sidling up to Peter and John and James, asking a self-righteous question under the guise of concern. Surely this tableau of Jesus, the Great Teacher and these…these miscreants must be some sort of mistake, mustn’t it?
“When the Pharisees saw this, they asked [Jesus’s] disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’” (Matt. 9:11).
But Jesus overhears. Spoiler alert: Jesus always overhears. Just ask Nathanael, who thought he was safe under that fig tree.
And Jesus responds. Spoiler alert: Jesus always responds. And it’s often not how we expect.
“On hearing this, Jesus said, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners’” (Matt. 9:12-13).
On first glance this can look as though Jesus is excusing the Pharisees. “Nah, you’re all good; you don’t need me,” we might assume he means. Surely the Pharisees, who lived such outwardly righteous lives, were the healthy, right?
Therein lies the rub.
Those gathered around the table, from the tax collectors to the sinners, knew where they stood before God. They knew they were miles away, oceans removed, light years distant.
The first step in becoming well is acknowledging we are sick. The first step in returning to God is realizing how far away we’ve wandered. The first step in spiritual transformation is admitting we need to be transformed.
So many of us—myself included—waste hours, days, or even years yelling, “It’s only a flesh wound!” like the errant knight in Monty Python and the Holy Grail when, really, we’re bleeding to death, and everyone can see it but us.
When we stop trying to keep up appearances, whether it’s tithing 10 percent of our garlic salt or taking that perfect Instagram photo (quick, scoot the dirty socks out of the frame!), and lay our hearts bare, healing can begin. We fall to our knees and yell, “Help!”
Spoiler alert: he always does.
is a pastor, speaker, and author of Uncluttered, Almost Holy Mama, and the forthcoming Happy Now: Let Play Lift Your Mood & Renew Your Spirit. She lives in southern California with her husband, three children, and the class parakeet that they took home in March “for the weekend.” You can find her on Twitter, Facebook, or at www.courtneybellis.com.
Photograph © Yoel Peterson, used with permission
