A Table Set for the Unworthy
Reflection on Luke 5:27-32
In the Gospel of Luke 5:27–32, Jesus passes by a tax collector named Levi. Tax collectors in that time were seen as traitors and sinners. They worked for the Roman authorities and were often associated with corruption and greed. Levi was not the kind of man people expected a rabbi to notice—much less call.
Yet Jesus looks at him and says only two words: “Follow me.”
There is no long lecture. No condition. No background check. No probation period. Just an invitation.
And Levi responds immediately. He leaves everything behind and follows Him.
This scene reveals something essential about the heart of Christ. Jesus does not wait for Levi to become worthy. He does not demand that Levi first clean up his life. The call comes first. Grace precedes conversion. Mercy opens the door.
What follows is equally powerful. Levi hosts a great banquet in his house. A table is prepared, and many tax collectors and others recline with Jesus. The Pharisees and scribes murmur in disapproval: “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”
For them, holiness meant separation. For Jesus, holiness meant transformation.
Christ responds with a striking image: “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.”
Jesus describes Himself as a doctor. A doctor does not avoid the sick; he seeks them. He does not condemn them for their illness; he treats them. The presence of Jesus at that table is not an endorsement of sin. It is an act of healing love.
This Gospel invites us to reflect deeply on two realities: our identity as sinners and our identity as the called.
At times, we may see ourselves in Levi. Perhaps we carry guilt from past mistakes. Perhaps we feel unworthy, inconsistent, or spiritually weak. The voice of the world, or even our own conscience, may tell us that we are not good enough.
Yet Jesus still passes by. He still looks at us. He still says, “Follow me.”
The call of Christ is not based on our perfection. It is rooted in His mercy.
At other times, we may find ourselves in the crowd of Pharisees—quietly judging, comparing, and questioning. We may measure holiness by appearances and forget that every saint has a history, and every sinner has a future.
The banquet in Levi’s house is a powerful image of the Church. The Church is not a museum of the perfect; it is a hospital for the wounded. Every Mass is a gathering of those who need mercy. We come not because we are already whole, but because we long to be healed.
The Eucharistic table echoes Levi’s banquet. Christ sits among us. He does not recoil from our brokenness. He feeds us with Himself. He offers us not only forgiveness, but new life.
Levi’s response is also important. He does not follow Jesus privately or quietly. He invites others. His conversion becomes mission. The joy of being called overflows into hospitality.
True encounter with Christ changes how we live. It leads to generosity, openness, and witness. The one who receives mercy becomes a messenger of mercy.
This Gospel reassures us that no one is beyond the reach of grace. No past is too dark. No reputation too damaged. No failure too great. The only real barrier is refusing the invitation.
Jesus continues to walk through the streets of our lives. He passes by our workplaces, our homes, our routines. He sees us fully—our strengths, our weaknesses, our struggles—and still He calls.
The question is not whether we are worthy. The question is whether we are willing.
Willing to leave behind what keeps us stuck.
Willing to sit at His table.
Willing to trust the Physician with our wounds.
In answering that call, we discover that mercy is not a reward for the righteous. It is a gift for the humble.
Key Takeaway:
Jesus calls us not because we are already righteous, but because He desires to heal and transform us through His mercy.
Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus, Divine Physician,
You see us as we truly are,
and still You call us to follow You.
Thank You for Your mercy that reaches
into our weakness and lifts us up.
Give us the courage to leave behind
anything that keeps us from You.
Heal what is wounded in our hearts.
Teach us to welcome others
with the same compassion You show us.
May we never forget that we live
by grace and not by our own strength.
Keep us faithful at Your table,
and make our lives a testimony
of Your transforming love.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment