We Need You! Why Jesus Conscripts Sinners 

Journal Entry. Simon. About 30A.D

I began following Jesus around Galilee a year or so ago, witnessing the power of the Gospel he proclaims, not only in the breathtaking words he says, like "the Kingdom of God is within you!", but also in the demonstration of that reality – people healed from lifelong diseases, demons being cast out, and let us not forget his first one — turning water into wine! We disciples particularly enjoyed that one!

Somehow through Rabbi Jesus, heaven and earth meet, and the rule and the reality of God comes bursting into the present. Through him, the effects of sin and death are reversed, as God's presence brings wholeness, healing, and freedom. Hallelujah! 
 
Sometimes we wonder if it's all too good to be true, but how could we deny it when it is happening all around us? We are excited about what is next. Just the other day, after Rabbi Jesus returned exhausted from spending a day healing the sick, he went to bed, and we all sat up speculating well into the early hours of the morning. 

With him, surely anything is possible! Shall we march on to the capital and overthrow the Romans? Shall we send them back to the hell hole they crawled out of? Shall we take control of the city and watch the people flock in from all over the world as the prophecies come true? “Tremble before him, all the earth!” Psalm 96:9

We will see, I guess. The possibilities flitter across my mind as we trek along the Via Maris. On our right the Sea of Galilee glitters in the afternoon sun, flecked with the fishing boats of our brothers who are out making the most of the afternoon winds which stir up the fish and fill their nets. As we approach Capernaum, a small square building stands resolutely beside the road, its white-washed walls glimmering with the yellow hues of the afternoon sun. 

I spat. Tax collector. I know this one, his name is Matthew, although he's also known as Levi. He is watching the fisherman as they come in, his small eyes darting from their nets to their baskets, coldly calculating, one hand tapping lightly in the window sill, the other scribbling on a ledger. I never could understand how one of our own kind, a Jew, could sell out his brothers to the Romans. Here he was growing fat off our revenues as our little ones starved. 

As we approach him I feel a throbbing in my neck and hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. I think of the fireballs of Sodom and Gomorrah, and I turn to our Rabbi to make a suggestion. 

But Jesus is already looking at Matthew, a playful smile dancing across his lips. Oh, this is going to be good!

As we walk by, Jesus cups his hands to his mouth and takes a deep breath.

"Follow me!" He cries.

What? Did I hear that right? There's no hint of sarcasm or anything untoward in his tone. He simply cries out and then keeps walking, that small smile still dancing across his lips.

I look over and Matthew is hastily sliding his window shut. It looks like something spooked him for sure. But wait, he's shoving things in a bag, he's bursting out the door off the side, and now he's shambling toward us.

What is going on? 

*** 

The above is a creative extrapolation of just two lines in the Bible. Matthew 9:9-11.

'As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector's booth. 

"Follow me," he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him.'

That night Jesus and his disciples ate at Matthew's house and we are told that "many sinners came and ate with him". Not just one. Many. This attracted the attention of the Pharisees and also the disciples of John the Baptist, both of whom challenged Jesus about both the type of people he ate with and also the festive spirit with which he dined. 

Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick... For I have not came to call the righteous, but sinners."
 
Why?

Why doesn't Jesus choose the religious who have shown excellence in their calling and who have capacity to teach and learn, or disciples like John the Baptist's who are disciplined and self-sacrificing in the service of God?

This is a question that many Christians still struggle with today. 

I recall a time a few years ago when a man from prison visited our church and spent the entire worship set down on his knees, hands in the air, tears streaming unselfconsciously down his lined and weathered face. You could sense the unease in the room.

Another pastor relayed to me that someone had came into a church asking to be baptised because they had came to know Jesus, and the church referred them elsewhere. They weren't what you'd call 'clean cut'. They weren't the type you took home to meet your mother. Their lack of good manners and pedigree might have been an affront to the sensibilities of those already in the church.  

I wonder what Jesus would have done? Probably went to their house and ate with them.

Sinners are chosen by Jesus.
Sinners are comfortable with Jesus.
Sinners are commissioned by Jesus.

I think it's because they know how much they need him. 

They have zero self-reliance. 

One of my favourite ministry moments hails back about four years, when during an Alpha course a young lady in her late twenties suddenly exclaimed to the group: "I found Jesus and he's f#$%ing awesome!"

I reckon Jesus could do more with that attitude than he could with a religious one. 

Jesus can work with addiction.

Jesus can work with guilt and shame.

Jesus can work with uncertainty and fear.

Jesus can work with doubts and questioning.

Jesus can work with bad manners.

Because all these are fertile soil for his grace to take root.

What Jesus can't work with, is pride.

Pride rejects grace. 

Pride denies Jesus, preferring its own efforts.

Prides says, "thanks but I've got this."

Whereas sin is native to a fallen world, pride is something we contrive to cover it up, creating a barrier to the grace of God.

Just as a potter works with soft clay; Jesus calls sinners because they’re malleable.

When Jesus defeated sin on the cross, for once and for all, the power of sin became broken over you and me. We still live with its effects, and we still slip back into old habits now and then, but it no longer has the final word. The cross does. And as our eternal life is formed within us we will turn more and more to that joy of the Spirit and sin will no longer be as attractive. We become more like Jesus so that we we can share his goodness with the world.

Jesus commissions sinners because sinners are comfortable talking with sinners.

He doesn't, after all, only bring salvation TO us, but he brings salvation THROUGH us.

God can use those who have nothing to proclaim except for "Christ crucified" in a powerful and mighty way to spread the Gospel. 

I think back to Matthew the tax collector. I wonder if he's the same one Jesus talks about in Luke 18:13: 'But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"' 

Matthew would not have been able to go back to making his living. He would have burnt all his bridges to follow Jesus. He had to be all in. 100% or nothing. He had nothing of his own to rely on, turn to, or brag about. The only thing he could've offered people was Jesus and his Gospel.

This is what we, the church, should aspire to.

The alternative is too awful to think about.  A community of people who have it all together and look down on everyone who doesn't. A community that judges people instead of welcoming them. A community that trusts in its own righteousness.

I'm sure you don't know any churches like that. 

For me, I praise God that I am a sinner saved by grace. 

I praise God that He has called me, is in the messy and probably infuriating process of conforming me to the His image of his Son, and that He commissions me to carry his heart and message to others.

That is the only thing I can brag about, and I reckon that's a good thing.

But hey, it's just my two-bob as usual.