Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Inviting the Uninvited



Dinner for Schmucks

I admit to having a soft spot for goofball comedies. That probably says more about me being a goofball than anything else. You’re more likely to catch me watching “Airplane!” or “Anchorman” than cracking open a copy of Madame Bovary or The Tale of Two Cities.

So when I read Mark’s version of Jesus inviting Levi into God’s kingdom and then Levi inviting Jesus to a party he throws for local outcasts, the first thing that comes to my mind is the movie “Dinner for Schmucks.” I wanna be clear. This is a terrible flick. Two thumbs WAY down. Absolutely awful. Don’t waste your time. It’s almost two hours of your life you’ll never get back. Ever.

Weirdos, Goofballs, and Knuckleheads

It’s not the movie’s execution but its premise that reminds me of Mark 2:13-17. The plot goes something like this. Some people invite a bunch of losers over for a big bash. The guest list includes all sorts of weirdos, goofballs, and knuckleheads you would NEVER be caught dead with.

But they’re not there out of some act of goodwill or compassion. Far from it. They’re invited to provide the punchline. They’re not in on the joke. They ARE the joke. The winner of the dinner is the one who invites the biggest buffoon.

Rejects and Riffraff

At first glance, there’s not much difference between this piece of cinematic trash and Mark’s description of a similar shindig. Once again, outcasts pack the place. Just like the movie, there’s a cocky crew who thinks it’s better than everybody else.

The HUGE difference is the presence of one Man. Actually, one God-Man. Jesus is there. He shows up because of the rejects and riffraff. Not to make fun of them. He’s in the house because these folks know where they stand. He’s there to have dinner WITH schmucks. He’s there to invite the uninvited.

Buying a Local Franchise

But before we get this party started, let’s set the scene. It’s First Century Galilee, a backwater region in what we know today as Israel. Back in the day, it was an forgettable sliver of the Roman Empire. No big cities. Just tiny villages full of the working poor. Blue-collar folks like fishermen and carpenters.

The government makes sure they stay that way. The Romans heap a tax burden on folks unlike anything we could ever imagine. The empire slaps a fee on anything that moves. If that’s not bad enough, the Romans actually sell local taxation franchises.

An Israelite franchise holder not only collects revenue for the government but can LEGALLY charge as much they want and keep the rest. Talk about multilevel marketing! And you think the IRS has a bad rep. Please.

Tax Collecting Traitors

You can understand why these tax collectors aren’t just disliked, they are hated. There are few things worse in Jewish society. Not only have you sold your soul to the occupying evil empire, but you’re making a boatload of bucks in the process. You may own a tax franchise, but you’re now a traitor, disenfranchised by just about anyone and everyone.

Okay, I realize NOBODY likes talking about taxes…except if you’re a politician, CPA, or work for H and R Block. So why does all this matter? Because Mark’s story all turns around a Galilean tax collector and his circle of slimy associates.

Jesus shocks the crowd when He goes out of His way to hang out with them. He’s the guest of honor at the dinner with schmucks. But our Savior goes even further. In the face of religious insiders, He’s interested in the outsiders. Christ invites the uninvited.

Back to the Beach

We pick up the story of Jesus in the second chapter of Mark’s Gospel. As we look down the beach of Lake Galilee, we see the radical Rabbi/Carpenter headed this way. “He went out again to the lakeshore again and taught the crowds that were coming to Him” (v13).

It wasn’t that long ago that the Son of God called His first four followers near this same spot on this same shoreline (Mk 1:16-20). The buzz about Him continues to build and the crowds continue to grow (Mk 1:45). In the face of tremendous popularity, Christ refuses to lose His focus on preaching and teaching (Mk 1:38-39).

A Face in the Crowd

As the Lord makes His way through the crowd, somebody catches His eye. “As He walked along, He saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at his tax collector’s booth” (v14). Jesus doesn’t just see an audience, He sees individuals. He sees Levi. He sees you. He sees me.

How often do I see a big crowd as an obstacle in my way rather than individuals dealing with their own issues? I need to stop looking at the pack and start looking at people. Make eye contact. Say “hello.” And why not? God has made everybody I meet as I’m walking down the street in His image. Jesus died for every single one of them.

Rebranding Levi

As the Lord heads up the shore, He notices a guy trying to make a buck. Mark tells us his name is Levi. He’s Alphaeus’ boy. Over in Matthew’s version of the same story, the author says the dude’s name is…well…Matthew! Becoming a follower of Jesus changes everything. For some of us that includes changing our names.

It actually happens a lot. Christ rebrands Simon as Peter or “Rocky.” He rebrands a couple of brothers as the Sons of Thunder. He rebrands Saul as Paul. Why not? Jesus’ Dad did the same in the Old Testament too. Abram and Sarai become Abraham and Sarah. Jacob becomes Israel.

I don’t think it’s any coincidence Jesus mentions something similar to the Apostle John. One day the Lord will give each of His followers a personally engraved stone with “a new name the that no one understands except the who who receives it” (Rev 2:17). Is there really anything more personal than someone you love giving you a nickname? Imagine your Savior giving you one. That sounds pretty sweet to me.

Lots of Traffic and Lots of Tolls

Mark describes how Jesus sees Levi/Matthew who has set up shop next to the big lake. Robertson says this would have been along the Great West Road from Damascus to the Mediterranean. It’s a busy highway. Lots of traffic. And that means lots of tolls.

There’s also a pretty good chance he’s also putting the squeeze on the commercial fishermen who work the waters. Historians let us know the Romans never missed the chance to slap a tax on anything. Locals not only had to pay for the hefty cost of a license but probably on their catch as well.

Jesus Makes an Offer

Christ sees Levi “sitting at his tax collector’s booth” (v14). Not exactly a place anybody goes if they can avoid it. But instead of steering clear, Jesus does the opposite. He walks up and extends an amazing offer, “Follow Me and be My disciple” (v14). That’s right, He asks a traitor to be part of His team. The Son of God invites the uninvited.

We need understand that’s NOT how the system worked back in the day. Rabbis don’t recruit disciples. It’s the other way around. People apply. There’s a waiting list. Only the best and brightest make the cut. No self-respecting religious teacher lowers himself to actually seek a student. Especially a lowlife tax collector like Levi.

That’s because Jesus isn’t like other hotshot religious celebrities of the day. He knows exactly the kind of follower He’s looking for. He’s not building an impressive roster of five-star super saints. He’s building a series of individual relationships. The Lord is still inviting the uninvited two thousand years later to come along for the ride. Just so we’re clear, I’m talking about people like you and me.

A Traveling Partner

As scandalous as our Savior’s invitation to Levi was, the taxman takes Him up on the offer. “So Levi got up and followed Him” (v14). To be sure, Levi didn’t blindly respond to a stranger’s offer out of the blue. He would have been VERY aware of the crazy stories of miracles flying around Capernaum. He may not have met Him, but he would have known who Jesus is.

What exactly is His offer? “Follow” is a Greek word ακολουθεω/akoloutheo, which comes from a root word that means road. Jesus invites Levi to be His traveling partner. Allow the Lord to determine the direction and the route. It speaks of a relationship. Where you go doesn’t matter as long as you’re together.

It’s Okay, I’m with the Band

In the original language, “follow” doesn’t describe someone who simply heading in the same direction with a random stranger. You identify strongly with the person you’re following. You’re linked with the one leading the way. It’s like the old line, “It’s okay, I’m with the band.”

Following Jesus unlocks the door to the most remarkable places. Forget Costco or that ritzy country club. Cruising with Christ gains us access to the most exclusive joint you can imagine. The Kingdom of God. Somebody may be surprised to see you in heaven. If they ask for how you got in, just say, “I’m with Him. I’m with Jesus.”

Following the Lord, Following His Commands

But following Jesus is more than just downloading a few songs, attending a couple of concerts, and buying a t-shirt. It’s trusting totally in His leadership. Following the Lord means I follow His commands. What He wants for me is better than what I want for me.

Did I obey Him perfectly from the get-go? Not even close. Do I obey Him perfectly today? Are you kidding me? But following Him means I’ve given myself to His lifelong process of becoming His disciple. He won’t give up on me when I stumble and fall. My Lord promises to finish the job He starts in me (Phil 1:6). And He makes the same guarantee to each one of the uninvited He invites.

Things Get Awkward

We go from Jesus asking Levi to follow to Levi asking Jesus to a party. “Later, Levi invited Jesus and His disciples to his home as dinner guests” (v15). Things are about to get awkward. Not only is the Rabbi there, but so are His disciples. At least four former fishermen are in the home of the same man who was jamming them for taxes not long ago.

Following Jesus radically changes our relationships. People we used to avoid (are I say “hate”?) are now our brothers and sisters. Enemies become friends. That’s because Christ came to knock down the walls we’ve built between races, cultures, religions, and all the other artificially imposed social barriers (Rom 10:12; 1Cor 12:13; Gal 3:28; Eph 2:14; Col 3:11).

Losers, Rejects, and Outcasts

They aren’t the only guests. They’re joined by “many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners” (v15). Levi has invited a bunch of his tax collecting buddies. Mark’s description tips us off that Jewish society sees tax collectors as such dirtbags that they have their own special category of sinfulness. 
Levi also opens his doors to all sorts of people shunned and dissed by the world. His guest list includes “other disreputable sinners” (v15). This is the author’s junk drawer term for the rest of the riffraff in attendance. These are far from the best and the brightest. This is a motley collection of losers, rejects, and outcasts. You know what they say, “Misery loves company.”

This party makes a lot of sense when you think about it. Levi has just met Someone who has radically transformed his life. He wants his friends to meet Jesus too. Why not do the same thing? Invite your friends who don’t know Him over to your house and tell them all about your Savior. You’re not cramming Christ down their throats. You’re simply making an introduction.

Turning Outsiders into Insiders

Don’t miss Mark’s little parenthetical comment: “(There were many people of this kind among Jesus’ followers.)” (v15). Clearly the folks hanging out with Jesus at Levi’s big shindig fit the profile of most of Christ’s followers. Not a couple. Not a few. Not a handful. Many.

I’ll betcha nobody had to tip them off about their standing in society. They knew better than anyone where they stood. And where they stood was on the outside looking in. But here’s the crazy thing. That’s EXACTLY who Jesus came to save. He loves to turn outsiders into insiders. He loves to invite the uninvited.

Crashing the Party

However, the uninvited aren’t the only ones invited to Levi’s party. “But when the teachers of the religious law who were Pharisees saw Him eating with tax collectors and other sinners, the asked His disciples, ‘Why does He eat with such scum?’” (v16).

Apparently the religious police are staking out the joint, hoping to catch Jesus redhanded doing such dirty deeds as hanging out with the dregs of society. These are the ones in charge of who’s in and who’s out at the local synagogue. In other words, they decide who’s invited and who’s not.

Ironically, there’s little chance Levi invited them to be there. These religious teachers have crashed the party just so they can blow the whistle on Jesus and anyone else breaking their rules. Boy, do they love to throw their weight around. They’re like an HOA board run amuck.

Self-Righteous Windbags

Notice how the Pharisees don’t have the guts to challenge Christ directly. Instead they take their complaint to His followers. Do we even need to discuss this? Anytime we have a problem with someone, don’t go all passive aggressive. Instead, pull up your big boy (or big girl) pants and talk directly to them. Tell them what’s wrong. Work it out. Person to person.

Well, Christ cuts out the middle man and confronts these self-righteous windbags. “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners” (v17). Just as He did at Simon and Andrew’s house (Mk 2:1-12), Jesus sees Himself as the Physician who can treat spiritual sickness.

Saving the Bacon of the Broken

This is the Son of God’s way of saying, “Okay, let’s go there. Let’s assume for a moment you’re right. Let’s assume that you’ve got you’re act together and really are perfect. Let’s assume you’ve got a clean bill of spiritual health.” Well, we all know what happens when we assume.

What these religious bullies don’t realize is that EVERYBODY needs a Savior. You, me, us, them (Rom 3:10-13, 23). What Jesus tells the Pharisees is He came to save those who KNOW they need to be saved. If not, He really can’t help you. Christ didn’t come to rescue the self-righteous. He came to save the bacon of the broken and humble.

Declaring Spiritual Bankruptcy

That’s exactly what Jesus talks about in the opening lines of His most famous message, the one we call the Sermon on the Mount. “God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for Him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs” (Mt 5:3). Our debt of sin toward God is so great, we must declare spiritual bankruptcy. When we do, Christ writes a check on the cross to cover our cost.

Here’s the crazy thing. The scribes think they’re spiritually hot stuff. They think they’re healthy. They think they’re the only ones who’ve truly earned an invitation from God. The irony is that because they believe they’re invited, they are actually UNinvited! The only way to ensure our invitation from Jesus is know we don’t deserve one.

Nobodies and Somebodies

t’s like what Paul said to some friends at a church in Corinth. “I don’t see many of ‘the brightest and the best’ among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these ‘nobodies’ to expose the hollow pretensions of the ‘somebodies’?” (1Cor 1:27-28 The Message).

It’s almost like Paul is describing Levi’s crazy house party in Galilee. Jesus showers His grace on Levi and this long list of losers. They readily receive His love because they know they need it. They’re not arrogant insiders but grateful outsiders. They’re simply beggars who’ve figured out where to find the bread.

Dinner WITH Schmucks

This is no Dinner for Schmucks. Jesus has come to have dinner WITH them. And they know they’re schmucks. They know their losers. Nobody has to tell them. Levi and his friends realize they’re on the outside looking in. And for that reason, they’re just the kind of people Christ has come for.

Jesus loves inviting the uninvited.

©2017 
Jay Jennings

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