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Meals with a Message
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Meals with a Message
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
This evening we are starting a new series in Luke's Gospel called Meals with a Message. Later on in Luke's gospel, Luke says the Son of Man—that is Jesus—"came eating and drinking." There are at least nine recorded times in Luke's gospel where Jesus eats with people. It's a really important part of his ministry, and every time he meets with people he has a message for them.
Robert Karris says that in Luke's gospel, Jesus is either going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal. During this series, we're going to look at each of these times where Jesus meets with people, eats with them, and has a message for them—and for us as we hear him speak through his words.
The first of these meals is the one we'll look at this evening in Luke 5. As we come to our passage, context is key—particularly the context of this man Levi.
Luke tells us that Levi was a tax collector, hard at work in his tax booth when Jesus comes to talk to him. To understand the significance of what Jesus does, we need to understand what kind of man Levi really was.
To help with that, let me take us back to 1944. It's the height of World War II, and the Nazi regime is fully engaged in its plan to systematically murder Jewish people. Unbeknownst to them, there was a small secret room in a Dutch family's house in Haarlem, Netherlands. Over two years, this room had been used to successfully hide and protect over 800 Jewish people from the Gestapo—until the 28th of February 1944, when a fellow Dutchman named Jan Vogel walked into a Nazi office and informed on Corrie ten Boom and her family.//
The Nazis arrested the entire ten Boom family. Corrie's elderly father, Casper, died nine days later in prison. Corrie and her sister Betsie were sent to a concentration camp, where Betsie also died. Corrie survived, and when she returned home, she learned that the man who had caused her family's destruction wasn't a German soldier—it was her neighbour, a fellow Dutchman, one of her own people, who had handed her over for a bit of pocket money.
She later wrote in her bestselling book, The Hiding Place, of her deep anger and hatred toward this informant—this traitor who had chosen to side with the enemy. That sense of betrayal helps us grasp what the Jewish people would have felt walking past the tax booths every day.
Tax collectors like Levi were considered the lowest of the low—social outcasts—for three main reasons:
All of this was true of Levi. It's in light of this that what Jesus does next becomes so significant.
Just before our passage, at the start of Luke 5, Jesus is teaching a large crowd when some men lower their paralysed friend through the roof, hoping Jesus would heal him. The shocking thing was that the first thing Jesus did was not heal the man, but declare his sins forgiven.
"The Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins." (v.24)
The onlookers thought the man needed physical healing, which Jesus does provide—but first Jesus reveals a deeper need, a deeper-rooted illness that only he can heal.
Even earlier in the chapter, Jesus meets a man with leprosy—unclean not morally like Levi, but physically, and cast out from society. When the leper fell to his knees and said, "If you are willing, you can make me clean," Jesus didn't walk away like everyone else. He walked towards him, touched him, and said, "I am willing; be clean." Normally uncleanness would spread to the one who touched a leper—but this time, Jesus's cleansing spread into the leper instead.
The Levitical laws were meant to show God's people's need for holiness, and how they fall short of it. Jesus isn't rejecting these laws—he's fulfilling them. Throughout this chapter, he challenges the first-century understanding of purity: true, deep cleansing isn't found in ritual, but in Jesus himself.
Jesus continues this pattern with Levi. Here is a social outcast, ceremonially unclean, avoided by everyone—and yet Jesus walks straight up to his tax booth and says, "Levi, follow me."
In that culture, "follow me" was an invitation reserved for the best of the best—for those who had proven themselves worthy through years of rigorous training under the religious leaders. Levi was not one of these. He was a traitor and a cheat. Yet Jesus chose the not-so-special, the social outcast, the average person, to be one of his closest followers.
When challenged later about the company he keeps, Jesus explains:
"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance."
The Pharisees' issue wasn't with the banquet—it was with the guest list. Jesus has come to clarify who is invited.
This is the same Jesus who invited a guilty thief on the cross into new life. The same Jesus who later transformed Saul—a man devoted to persecuting Christians—into the Apostle Paul, who wrote more than half of the New Testament. Paul himself wrote:
"Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst." (1 Timothy 1:15)
Jesus came for the worst of the worst. He chooses the unimpressive to show us that his grace is not dependent on our goodness.
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9)
God's grace breaks down the walls of our boasting. There is hope for the least, the last, and the lost. If you know all too well that you are broken, that you feel too far gone—here is the good news, here is the gospel: Jesus came for you.
Levi's response to Jesus's call is immediate, and it is both personal and communal.
"Levi got up, left everything, and followed him." (v.28)
Levi's life will never be the same. He leaves his job, his wealth, his favour with Rome—because, having met Jesus, he knows his earthly treasures have no eternal value.
"Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them." (v.29)
Levi doesn't keep his new life a secret. He prepares a huge banquet and invites as many tax collector friends as he can to meet Jesus.
Meeting Jesus transforms Levi in three ways:
Meals in this culture—as in many cultures today—represent friendship, community, and welcome. As Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners, this meal is more significant than we first realise: it's a foretaste of the eternal wedding supper of the Lamb described in Revelation 19.
"Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude... shouting: 'Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns... Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.' ... Then the angel said to me, 'Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb.'" (Revelation 19)
As Jesus eats with Levi and his friends, he is inviting them into this very celebration—the day he is finally reunited with his bride, his people, made completely clean, living with him forever.
While Jesus eats with Levi, the Pharisees ask: "Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?" They knew the Old Testament promised a future banquet—spoken of by Isaiah—for God's people, an invitation extended to all people. But the Pharisees had removed Gentiles, and by extension tax collectors, from the guest list.//
Again, Jesus isn't rejecting the law but fulfilling it. As Tim Chester puts it:
"This is the new way. The new way is gracious rather than religious, inclusive rather than exclusive, welcoming rather than unwelcoming. It is characterised by feasting rather than fasting, rejoicing rather than grumbling. It recognises its need and finds hope in the Saviour rather than feeling self-righteous and therefore rejecting the Saviour."
Jesus is clarifying who is truly invited to the eternal banquet: all peoples—Jew and Gentile, tax collector and sinner—who choose to follow him.
Jesus is clear: his invitation requires a response. I think there are two main applications for us this evening.
Jesus's invitation to Levi is his invitation to you tonight—whether you don't yet follow Jesus, or whether you do and need to recommit your life to him in every area.
There are two extremes we can fall into:
To the self-righteous, Jesus says: "I have not come to call the righteous." Don't kid yourself—"All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. There is no one righteous, not one." We live in a broken world, and the problem isn't out there—it's in here. Freedom isn't found in saying "I'm not perfect, but I'm human, and I'm trying my best." Freedom is found only in the God who came in the person of Jesus to fix the brokenness within us and around us.//
To those who feel too far gone, Jesus came for you. As Tim Keller says:
"God sees us as we are. He loves us as we are and accepts us as we are. But by his grace, he doesn't leave us as we are."
Don't let feelings of brokenness drive you away from God in shame—let them show you your need for a Saviour and bring you to him. Come to Jesus just as the leper did: "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." And hear him say, "I am willing. Be clean."
Levi's response wasn't just personal—it was communal. Once you've accepted Jesus's invitation, you don't keep it to yourself; you extend it. Who will you share Jesus's invitation with this week? A colleague, a checkout worker, the person sat next to you on the bus?
You hold an invitation to the greatest banquet, with living water that never runs dry and food that fully satisfies. You can't control how people respond, but you can control whether they receive the invitation—because Jesus's invitation is for all people: the least, the last, and the lost.
Here's a challenge: who are the people we subconsciously avoid sharing the gospel with, thinking maybe God's invitation doesn't really extend to them? Every person we meet needs Jesus, and Jesus has come for them.
After World War II ended, Jan Vogel—the traitor who betrayed Corrie ten Boom's family—was sent to prison. In June 1945, Corrie sat down to write him a letter:
"Dear sir, today I heard that most probably you were the one who betrayed me. I went through ten months of concentration camp. My father died after nine days of imprisonment. My sister died in prison too. The harm you planned was turned into good for me by God, and I came nearer to him. A severe punishment is awaiting you, and I have prayed for you that the Lord may accept you if you repent. I have forgiven you everything. God will also forgive you everything if you ask him. If it is difficult for you to pray, then ask if God will give you his Spirit, who works the faith in your heart. I hope that the path you will now take will work for your eternal salvation. — Corrie ten Boom."
Corrie's forgiveness of Jan Vogel came from knowing how much she herself had been forgiven by her heavenly Father—and from knowing that God's invitation is for the lowest of the low, even people like Jan Vogel. As Tim Keller says:
"The gospel is this: we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, and yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus than we ever dared hope."
Our heavenly Father, thank you that Jesus came to call sinners to repentance, that he came to seek and save the lost, and that means all of us here this evening can find hope in you. Help us by your Spirit to recognise our brokenness, our deep need for cleansing and healing—not so that we would turn away from you in shame, but that we would run toward you, understanding more deeply the magnitude of your grace to us.
Just as you called Levi, you have given each one of us an invitation to the eternal banquet, to be in right relationship with you forever. For anyone here who wouldn't call themselves a Christian, stir in them to take up your invitation, that they too might find new hope and a new identity in you. For those who have already accepted your invitation, stir our hearts to recommit to following you with every moment of our lives, and help us see that this invitation is not one to be kept secret, but one to be shared with those we meet week by week. Help us to love you more deeply, to proclaim you more boldly, and to live for you more wholeheartedly. We pray in Jesus's name. Amen.
This evening we are starting a new series in Luke's Gospel called Meals with a Message. Later on in Luke's gospel, Luke says the Son of Man—that is Jesus—"came eating and drinking." There are at least nine recorded times in Luke's gospel where Jesus eats with people. It's a really important part of his ministry, and every time he meets with people he has a message for them.
Robert Karris says that in Luke's gospel, Jesus is either going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal. During this series, we're going to look at each of these times where Jesus meets with people, eats with them, and has a message for them—and for us as we hear him speak through his words.
The first of these meals is the one we'll look at this evening in Luke 5. As we come to our passage, context is key—particularly the context of this man Levi.
Luke tells us that Levi was a tax collector, hard at work in his tax booth when Jesus comes to talk to him. To understand the significance of what Jesus does, we need to understand what kind of man Levi really was.
To help with that, let me take us back to 1944. It's the height of World War II, and the Nazi regime is fully engaged in its plan to systematically murder Jewish people. Unbeknownst to them, there was a small secret room in a Dutch family's house in Haarlem, Netherlands. Over two years, this room had been used to successfully hide and protect over 800 Jewish people from the Gestapo—until the 28th of February 1944, when a fellow Dutchman named Jan Vogel walked into a Nazi office and informed on Corrie ten Boom and her family.//
The Nazis arrested the entire ten Boom family. Corrie's elderly father, Casper, died nine days later in prison. Corrie and her sister Betsie were sent to a concentration camp, where Betsie also died. Corrie survived, and when she returned home, she learned that the man who had caused her family's destruction wasn't a German soldier—it was her neighbour, a fellow Dutchman, one of her own people, who had handed her over for a bit of pocket money.
She later wrote in her bestselling book, The Hiding Place, of her deep anger and hatred toward this informant—this traitor who had chosen to side with the enemy. That sense of betrayal helps us grasp what the Jewish people would have felt walking past the tax booths every day.
Tax collectors like Levi were considered the lowest of the low—social outcasts—for three main reasons:
All of this was true of Levi. It's in light of this that what Jesus does next becomes so significant.
Just before our passage, at the start of Luke 5, Jesus is teaching a large crowd when some men lower their paralysed friend through the roof, hoping Jesus would heal him. The shocking thing was that the first thing Jesus did was not heal the man, but declare his sins forgiven.
"The Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins." (v.24)
The onlookers thought the man needed physical healing, which Jesus does provide—but first Jesus reveals a deeper need, a deeper-rooted illness that only he can heal.
Even earlier in the chapter, Jesus meets a man with leprosy—unclean not morally like Levi, but physically, and cast out from society. When the leper fell to his knees and said, "If you are willing, you can make me clean," Jesus didn't walk away like everyone else. He walked towards him, touched him, and said, "I am willing; be clean." Normally uncleanness would spread to the one who touched a leper—but this time, Jesus's cleansing spread into the leper instead.
The Levitical laws were meant to show God's people's need for holiness, and how they fall short of it. Jesus isn't rejecting these laws—he's fulfilling them. Throughout this chapter, he challenges the first-century understanding of purity: true, deep cleansing isn't found in ritual, but in Jesus himself.
Jesus continues this pattern with Levi. Here is a social outcast, ceremonially unclean, avoided by everyone—and yet Jesus walks straight up to his tax booth and says, "Levi, follow me."
In that culture, "follow me" was an invitation reserved for the best of the best—for those who had proven themselves worthy through years of rigorous training under the religious leaders. Levi was not one of these. He was a traitor and a cheat. Yet Jesus chose the not-so-special, the social outcast, the average person, to be one of his closest followers.
When challenged later about the company he keeps, Jesus explains:
"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance."
The Pharisees' issue wasn't with the banquet—it was with the guest list. Jesus has come to clarify who is invited.
This is the same Jesus who invited a guilty thief on the cross into new life. The same Jesus who later transformed Saul—a man devoted to persecuting Christians—into the Apostle Paul, who wrote more than half of the New Testament. Paul himself wrote:
"Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst." (1 Timothy 1:15)
Jesus came for the worst of the worst. He chooses the unimpressive to show us that his grace is not dependent on our goodness.
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9)
God's grace breaks down the walls of our boasting. There is hope for the least, the last, and the lost. If you know all too well that you are broken, that you feel too far gone—here is the good news, here is the gospel: Jesus came for you.
Levi's response to Jesus's call is immediate, and it is both personal and communal.
"Levi got up, left everything, and followed him." (v.28)
Levi's life will never be the same. He leaves his job, his wealth, his favour with Rome—because, having met Jesus, he knows his earthly treasures have no eternal value.
"Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them." (v.29)
Levi doesn't keep his new life a secret. He prepares a huge banquet and invites as many tax collector friends as he can to meet Jesus.
Meeting Jesus transforms Levi in three ways:
Meals in this culture—as in many cultures today—represent friendship, community, and welcome. As Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners, this meal is more significant than we first realise: it's a foretaste of the eternal wedding supper of the Lamb described in Revelation 19.
"Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude... shouting: 'Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns... Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.' ... Then the angel said to me, 'Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb.'" (Revelation 19)
As Jesus eats with Levi and his friends, he is inviting them into this very celebration—the day he is finally reunited with his bride, his people, made completely clean, living with him forever.
While Jesus eats with Levi, the Pharisees ask: "Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?" They knew the Old Testament promised a future banquet—spoken of by Isaiah—for God's people, an invitation extended to all people. But the Pharisees had removed Gentiles, and by extension tax collectors, from the guest list.//
Again, Jesus isn't rejecting the law but fulfilling it. As Tim Chester puts it:
"This is the new way. The new way is gracious rather than religious, inclusive rather than exclusive, welcoming rather than unwelcoming. It is characterised by feasting rather than fasting, rejoicing rather than grumbling. It recognises its need and finds hope in the Saviour rather than feeling self-righteous and therefore rejecting the Saviour."
Jesus is clarifying who is truly invited to the eternal banquet: all peoples—Jew and Gentile, tax collector and sinner—who choose to follow him.
Jesus is clear: his invitation requires a response. I think there are two main applications for us this evening.
Jesus's invitation to Levi is his invitation to you tonight—whether you don't yet follow Jesus, or whether you do and need to recommit your life to him in every area.
There are two extremes we can fall into:
To the self-righteous, Jesus says: "I have not come to call the righteous." Don't kid yourself—"All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. There is no one righteous, not one." We live in a broken world, and the problem isn't out there—it's in here. Freedom isn't found in saying "I'm not perfect, but I'm human, and I'm trying my best." Freedom is found only in the God who came in the person of Jesus to fix the brokenness within us and around us.//
To those who feel too far gone, Jesus came for you. As Tim Keller says:
"God sees us as we are. He loves us as we are and accepts us as we are. But by his grace, he doesn't leave us as we are."
Don't let feelings of brokenness drive you away from God in shame—let them show you your need for a Saviour and bring you to him. Come to Jesus just as the leper did: "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." And hear him say, "I am willing. Be clean."
Levi's response wasn't just personal—it was communal. Once you've accepted Jesus's invitation, you don't keep it to yourself; you extend it. Who will you share Jesus's invitation with this week? A colleague, a checkout worker, the person sat next to you on the bus?
You hold an invitation to the greatest banquet, with living water that never runs dry and food that fully satisfies. You can't control how people respond, but you can control whether they receive the invitation—because Jesus's invitation is for all people: the least, the last, and the lost.
Here's a challenge: who are the people we subconsciously avoid sharing the gospel with, thinking maybe God's invitation doesn't really extend to them? Every person we meet needs Jesus, and Jesus has come for them.
After World War II ended, Jan Vogel—the traitor who betrayed Corrie ten Boom's family—was sent to prison. In June 1945, Corrie sat down to write him a letter:
"Dear sir, today I heard that most probably you were the one who betrayed me. I went through ten months of concentration camp. My father died after nine days of imprisonment. My sister died in prison too. The harm you planned was turned into good for me by God, and I came nearer to him. A severe punishment is awaiting you, and I have prayed for you that the Lord may accept you if you repent. I have forgiven you everything. God will also forgive you everything if you ask him. If it is difficult for you to pray, then ask if God will give you his Spirit, who works the faith in your heart. I hope that the path you will now take will work for your eternal salvation. — Corrie ten Boom."
Corrie's forgiveness of Jan Vogel came from knowing how much she herself had been forgiven by her heavenly Father—and from knowing that God's invitation is for the lowest of the low, even people like Jan Vogel. As Tim Keller says:
"The gospel is this: we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, and yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus than we ever dared hope."
Our heavenly Father, thank you that Jesus came to call sinners to repentance, that he came to seek and save the lost, and that means all of us here this evening can find hope in you. Help us by your Spirit to recognise our brokenness, our deep need for cleansing and healing—not so that we would turn away from you in shame, but that we would run toward you, understanding more deeply the magnitude of your grace to us.
Just as you called Levi, you have given each one of us an invitation to the eternal banquet, to be in right relationship with you forever. For anyone here who wouldn't call themselves a Christian, stir in them to take up your invitation, that they too might find new hope and a new identity in you. For those who have already accepted your invitation, stir our hearts to recommit to following you with every moment of our lives, and help us see that this invitation is not one to be kept secret, but one to be shared with those we meet week by week. Help us to love you more deeply, to proclaim you more boldly, and to live for you more wholeheartedly. We pray in Jesus's name. Amen.
