Have you ever noticed how the person Jesus chooses to sit with reveals the heart of his ministry? The story of Matthew/Levi forces us to ask where we stand — watching from a distance, policing purity, or following when Jesus calls. It connects with that ache in all of us to be known, forgiven, and invited into something better than our past. This passage matters because it shows that the Kingdom begins where shame, exclusion, and self-righteousness meet the mercy of Christ.

In Matthew 9:9–13, Mark 2:13–17, and Luke 5:27–32 we meet the same basic scene: Jesus calls a tax collector to follow him, the man gets up and follows, and Jesus then eats at his house with many tax collectors and “sinners.” The Pharisees grumble. Jesus replies that he came to call sinners to repentance, not the self-righteous, and that “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matthew and Luke include that Hosea reference; Mark records the calling and the complaint but does not include the Hosea quotation). Matthew names him “Matthew”; Mark and Luke call him “Levi son of Alphaeus.” Luke gives the fullest detail about the banquet and the outcry.

This passage reveals something essential about Jesus: he breaks social boundaries to restore people. He doesn’t wait for moral cleaning before inviting companionship; he invites into relationship, where transformation begins. The Gospel’s weight is twofold — a confrontation and an embrace. The confrontation: Jesus exposes the smugness of those who think they have earned God’s favor. The embrace: he offers mercy to those who know they need it. That tension should unsettle and comfort us — unsettle our self-righteousness, comfort our guilty hearts.

Today, live this truth in a small, specific way: choose one person you’ve dismissed or avoided — at work, in your neighborhood, or even a part of yourself you hide — and offer a small act of presence. Invite someone to coffee, sit beside the person you usually ignore in the cafeteria, or pause and pray, “Lord, give me your eyes for them.” Mercy begins in simple, courageous proximity.