9 As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him.
10 And as Jesus reclined at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples. 11 And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 12 But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. 13 Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
There Is Still Room at the Table
Long before a famous tech startup redefined hospitality by offering an unexpected room at the table, Jesus was completely transforming how we welcome people into the kingdom of God. “It started in 2007 with an air mattress in a crap San Francisco apartment. The rent was due, hotels were booked up for a design conference, and two roommates had an idea. What if they charged guests to sleep on the floor? That weekend three strangers stayed in their living room and an industry was quietly born ....” 1
Those words were the beginning of a podcast with one of the founders of Airbnb. Their idea has helped redefine lodging while traveling. .That small beginning has since grown into a global network with over 8 million active listings and 5 million hosts, spanning more than 150,000 cities in 220 countries according to the official Airbnb Newsroom."
Airbnb welcomes people from all walks of life into other people’s homes to stay for a defined period. It’s a great idea that has obviously blossomed. But not without problems. Sometimes the guests take advantage. Google “Airbnb horror stories” and you’ll find no shortage of incidents where things got way out of hand. Property damage, fights, police being called, arrests made, and all sorts of people with less-than-stellar behavior.
Our scripture today hints at the problem of people welcomed by Jesus but quickly judged by others. All that helps us to think about the dynamics of welcome in the kingdom of God!
The Unexpected Call: Grace that Transforms (v. 9)
9 As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him.
The call of Matthew is told with striking brevity—just one sentence. His response is just as concise. Jesus calls, and Matthew follows. That’s it. No buildup, no debate, no delay. Jesus simply says, “Follow me,” and Matthew gets up and follows Him.
It almost feels too simple.
In a world where we analyze every decision, weigh every cost, and negotiate every commitment, Matthew’s response feels abrupt. But that’s the nature of grace—it doesn’t always come with a long explanation; sometimes it comes with a clear invitation. Come, follow me.
It’s like receiving a call that changes your life forever—a job offer you weren’t expecting, a diagnosis that shifts everything, or a voice that says, “This is your moment.” You don’t always get time to process it fully. You just know: If I don’t respond now, I may miss it.
That’s Matthew. Sitting at his tax booth, surrounded by money, records, and the machinery of corruption—and then Jesus walks by. Just two words: “Follow me.”
And Matthew leaves it all.
But beneath that simplicity lies something deeper. The story takes an unexpected turn. The one who gives the invitation becomes the guest in Matthew’s home. The calling leads to a table.
And that’s where things get uncomfortable.
Jesus and His disciples are reclining at Matthew’s table when the guest list starts to expand. Tax collectors. People with sketchy reputations. Those labeled “sinners.” These are Matthew’s old coworkers, his former circle, people who lived the same kind of life he had just walked away from.
Do you see what Matthew is doing? He doesn’t just follow Jesus privately—he introduces Jesus publicly.
It’s like someone who experiences real change—maybe freedom from addiction or a life transformed by faith—and the first instinct is, “I’ve got to bring my friends into this.” Not cleaned-up friends. Not church-ready friends. You know your actual real friends.
Matthew throws a banquet, and the table fills with people, your church friends might avoid.
And right in the middle of them—sits Jesus.
Not on the edge. Not observing from a distance. He is with them, eating, talking, present—as if they belong there.
And to the Pharisees, this is a problem.
Because in their thinking, holiness looks like separation. Avoidance. Distance. If you want to be right with God, you stay far away from people like that. From the culture that distracts us from the One True God.
But Jesus shows a different picture: holiness that moves toward brokenness, not away from it.
Think of a doctor. A doctor doesn’t stay away from the sick to remain healthy. The very nature of the calling is to move toward sickness in order to bring healing. Distance doesn’t cure the patient—presence does.
Jesus is at that table because that’s where healing needs to happen.
The Pharisees see it, but instead of speaking directly to Jesus, they go to His disciples.
“Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
It’s indirect. It’s critical. It’s safer than confrontation.
Even today, this still happens. People don’t always go straight to the source—sometimes they talk around the issue instead of through it.
But Jesus doesn’t allow the conversation to stay indirect. He steps right into it and addresses them openly. He refuses to let misunderstanding define the moment.
And all of this unfolds because of one simple encounter:
The Target of Grace
Matthew was a tax collector—an outsider, seen as a traitor, someone who built wealth at the expense of others. If anyone seemed disqualified, it was him.
Application
And here’s the truth—we all know what it feels like to think, “I’m too far gone,” or “God wouldn’t choose someone like me.”
But the story of Matthew reminds us: grace doesn’t go looking for the qualified; it goes looking for the willing.
The Simplicity of the Command
Jesus offers just two words: “Follow me.” No checklist. No probation period. No demand to clean up first.
It’s not “fix your life and then come.”
It’s “come, and I will change your life along the way.”
Some of us are waiting until we “get it together” before we respond to God. But Jesus never said, “Fix yourself and follow me.” He simply said, “Follow me.”
The Immediate Response
Matthew gets up. He walks away. He leaves security, income, and identity behind.
He trades profit for purpose. Comfort for calling. Control for surrender.
Imagine leaving your career mid-day, not knowing where the next paycheck will come from, because something—or rather, Someone—is worth more.
That’s what Matthew does.
And the question for us becomes:
What are we still holding onto that keeps us from fully following?
Because you can’t hold onto your old life and take hold of Jesus at the same time.
Final Movement Toward Invitation
Matthew’s story doesn’t end with him leaving the table—it continues with him filling a table.
That’s the beauty of grace.
It doesn’t just change you—it sends you.
It turns followers into hosts.
It turns testimonies into invitations.
Because the same voice that said, “Follow me,”
is still calling today.
And there is still room at the table.
We talked earlier about the early days of Airbnb—the idea of opening your home to strangers and watching it grow into something massive. It’s an incredible success story. But every host will tell you the same thing: not every guest treats your home the way you hoped. Some ignore the rules. Some leave a mess behind. Some become stories you wish you didn’t have to tell.
Opening your door always comes with a measure of risk.
And in a different way, the same can be said when you say yes to God’s call.
When God enters your life and begins to move through it, things don’t always unfold the way you expect. The path is not always neat or predictable. Just look at the story of Scripture—Abraham leaves home without a map, Moses argues with God at a burning bush, David is anointed king but spends years running for his life, Paul is blinded before he can see clearly, Peter steps out in faith and then sinks in doubt.
Following God is not a straight, polished road—it’s a journey filled with surprises, interruptions, and moments that stretch you beyond your comfort.
It’s less like walking a well-lit sidewalk and more like stepping into a fog where you can only see a few feet ahead—but you keep walking because you trust the One leading you.
One of the biggest misconceptions we carry is this: when God calls someone, it must mean stepping into formal ministry—preaching, pastoring, or working in a church.
Sometimes that’s true.
But more often than we realize, God calls people right where they already are.
The problem is we’ve created a false divide—sacred over here, secular over there. Church work counts. Everything else… not so much.
But that’s not how God sees it.
In the 1970s, a man named William Diehl reflected on his 30-year career as a sales manager in the steel industry. He was successful, respected, and deeply committed to his faith. But he shared something striking: in all those years, not once did his church ask how God was at work through him in his job.
No one asked how he ministered to coworkers.
No one asked what challenges he faced living out his faith in that environment.
No one asked how the church could equip him to be a light in his workplace.
It was as if the only place ministry happened was inside the church walls.
Imagine being sent onto a mission field every day—a workplace filled with relationships, pressures, decisions—and yet no one ever acknowledges it as a place where God is active.
That’s how many people live.
But then there’s another story.
Betty was a young parent in 1970, simply trying to help make ends meet. She took a job at a newspaper, planning to stay for just one year.
One year turned into thirty-six.
Day after day, she walked into that newsroom—not as someone clocking in, but as someone sent. She built relationships with interns, reporters, and editors. She looked for small ways to serve, encourage, and reflect her faith—not always in dramatic moments, but in consistent ones.
A kind word here. A steady presence there. Integrity when no one was watching.
Over time, her life became a quiet testimony.
And when asked if she believed God had placed her there, she didn’t hesitate—“Yes.”
She didn’t leave her faith at the door when she walked into work. She carried it with her like a light—and over decades, that light touched countless lives.
And that raises a powerful question for us:
What if your workplace isn’t just a job—but an assignment?
What if your neighborhood, your routines, your relationships—aren’t random, but intentional placements by God?
What if the call of God on your life isn’t about going somewhere else—but about seeing where you already are differently?
Because here’s the truth:
God doesn’t just call pastors to pulpits.
He calls people to offices… classrooms… job sites… hospitals… homes… and conversations.
He calls people to tables—just like Matthew’s.
Because the same God who said, “Follow me,”
is still calling people—not just to leave where they are,
but to live differently where they already are.
Final Things for You to Ponder:
Closing Challenge
- Have you responded to the call—or just admired it?
- Are you sitting with Jesus—but keeping others away from the table?
- Or are you, like Matthew, saying: “Come and meet the One who changed my life”?
So what is God calling you to do—or to be?
And are you simply working there… or are you sent there?
Where has God placed you right now?
Who is sitting at your table?
What if your workplace isn’t just a job—but an assignment?... You can find more resources and encouragement for living out your faith in the workplace in our dedicated article archive."