Levi was a traditional name—it was that of the 3rd son of Jacob (later known as Israel) and that tribe of Jacob became the priests—known as the Levites. They were the ones who performed the priestly duties for all of Israel. They were the ones who bridged the gap between the people and God. And that would have been true for all of the men in that family. Since in that time you did what you father did for work and what his father did before him and his father before him.
So when we hear that this man is named Levi we know a bit about him. We know he’s a Jew, from the line of Levi, son of Jacob. His father would have been a priest, and his father before him. And Levi, the tax collector, would have been expected to be a priest too. Yet he’s not. So we know that somehow, some way, something went wrong and derailed him from that course. We have no idea why or how, but he missed or skipped the priest boat. And now, instead, he’s a tax collector, which happens to be one of the most despised professions in all of Israel.
You see, tax collectors didn’t work for Israel or the temple. They worked for Rome. They collected taxes for Cesar. And the Romans were basically occupying Israel. So when you worked for Rome, you were working for the enemy…you were a traitor. But it got worse. Because the tax collectors sort of worked on commission…the more they taxed, the more they made. Some inflated taxes so they could line their pockets. In any case, it wasn’t just that they were traitors for working for Rome, but that they were lying, thieving traitors who stole from their family and friends. Needless to say, they were not held in great regard.
Can you imagine the pain and the shame his parents felt? I mean, not that a son is responsible for all of his parents feelings about his choices—they were his choices and he had the right to make them, but imagine their strain on their relationship. He’s set to be in one of the most respected fields for all the Jews and instead he becomes a lying, thieving, traitor who works for Rome and steals from his people.
Can you imagine?
So, Levi is a let-down, a family failture. He’s rejected. He’s likely shunned. He’s considered a low-life, not just by his family but by pretty much everyone—because they don’t want to be living in a place that’s occupied by Romw and they knew they were paying a good chunk extra on taxes to pad Levi’s pockets—-Let’s just say he wasn’t going to get the good neighbor award anytime soon.
And then Jesus comes to town and he sees Levi and says, “Follow me!” Now that sounds like a simple instruction but it’s not really about physical following--it’s about becoming a disciple. A better translation might be, “Come imitate me.” And Levi says, “Ok!” He’s on board and excited. He’s so excited that he wants to throw a party. Who knows how long Levi had been a tax collector and if he’d come to love it for the money and luxuries or if he hated it because of what he had to do—but what we do know is that once he had the chance to get out—he went. Forget the money. Forget the perks. And forget being hated by everyone—he was outta there. “Follow you? Do something different? Ok! And, you know…Jesus, maybe you could meet my friends too—because after we started working for Rome, we really couldn’t get out of it—no one wanted to hire us after what we’d done. No one trusted us. They didn’t really care what we’d learned or how we’d grown or even how we’d been changed—they couldn’t get past our reputations and our past. So, um…if you’re willing to give people a second chance, I know a lot of guys who might be interested.” Levi had received grace and he wanted to share it.
That’s the amazing thing about grace…not only do you want more for yourself, but you really want to share it. You want other people to know the goodness that you’ve experienced. When I was appointed to Wesley UMC in Riverside, the church I served had some homeless guys who hung out on the steps all day and would regularly stay the night. At first they weren’t really wanted. No one wanted them around. They didn’t want their problems. Didn’t want their drinking. Just didn’t want to deal with them.
But they kept hanging out. Folks really struggled to accept these men. They used drugs. They drank all day. They didn’t work. One hadn’t paid child support in years. One had been on the street for 17 years. They weren’t popular…none of the homeless were. They were seen as a problem and no one really wanted to have to be the one to deal with it.
I can imagine they had a similarly strained dynamic with their families as Levi did with his. To be sure, homeless and on drugs or booze was not what their parents had envisioned for them. I doubt it’s anything near what they had envisioned for themselves. And yet, that’s where they were, that’s who they had become. Rejected. Isolated. Forgotten. Despised.
And then they began to encounter grace. They were invited to worship. They were invited to have a hot meal. They were offered a hot shower. They were given clean clothes. They were told they had a safe place to sleep. And we began to form friendships. We learned their names, Allen and David, and they learned ours. And then, much like Levi, they invited their friends. More of the homeless came to this place for grace. Jimmy, Cuca, Carlos, and little Allen (different from the original Allen). Then others. And still others. Each time someone was greeted with warmth and care and got a bit of what they needed in terms of food, or clothes, shelter or care, they talked about it with their friends…and so more came.
And people objected, just like the Pharisees…why would you waste your time on them? They are a lost cause. And we were reminded again and again that Jesus came to save the lost; and so our work continued.
Now, it’s not that the homeless are all a lost cause or considered the worst like the tax collectors. But in them and in their stories we can see the rift between them and their families. We can imagine the rejection and isolation they experience day in and day out. And we can imagine the excitement of being noticed, known by name, invited and included just like Jesus did with Levi. And how receiving that grace could be life changing. But there are other ways we end up with broken relationships with family: unmet expectations, differing paths, rejection, isolation, and all kinds of challenges. And in that we can see our own need for grace—to be acknowledged, called by name, invited, and included. And that’s just what Jesus does. It’s who he is. He is the one full of grace who calls us in from the margins, away from being outsiders and into deep meaningful relationship.
Did you know this isn’t the last we see of Levi? It’s pretty much the last time we hear him called by this name, but if you’ve read or heard the gospels, you probably know him quite well….do you know who he is? He’s the disciple Jesus calls Matthew. Yep. He went from being a failed priest, to a despised tax collector, to a disciple of Jesus, to one of the disciples who founded the church. How’s that for full circle? I guess he was meant to be a godly messenger after all?!
The power of who Jesus is compels us, it draws us in, because it’s often starkly different from what the world tells us and how the world treats us. Grace allows us to be defined not by who we were, but who we are as called by Christ—to be who we were meant to be. The reality is we all fail. We all go off course, somewhere along the way. We disappoint. We struggle with broken relationships. We stand isolated and hurting. We need grace. And Jesus comes to us, as outsiders among the lost and says “Follow me.” And we have the choice to follow him….to choose grace and acceptance, love and inclusion. And we need to be aware that when we do that, when we follow him….it’s not on a stroll down the road, it’s imitating who he is, it’s being transformed by love and then offering transforming love to others. As we become disciples of Christ, imitators of his ways, we begin to notice and find the outsiders, the lost causes and we are to invite them to grace and inclusion in our life.
It sounds lovely and shiny when it’s preached in a sermon. But really, it’s messy and hard. It’s hard to find the *right* answer between helping and enabling. It’s hard to find the right answer when people stay stuck in their addiction and we are continuously called to be people of grace. What does grace look like when it’s tied to accountability? They aren’t mutually exclusive. This week we had a man come asking for help. He’s an outsider. He’s someone who is struggling and is seemingly without family support or a network of friends to hold him up as he journeys a rocky road. And his struggles have made him rough, and a bit brash. Quite frankly, it would have been easier to push him out the door and say, “sorry, we can’t help you.” But we are followers of Christ….imitators of his ways, and so we are challenged to include those who seem like lost causes. We are asked to care for them and hold them even when no one else wants to. And the particulars of what that looks like can be difficult to work out, but we are called to get into the mix of it all and listen for God’s voice and work on working it out.
The Levis of this world are not popular. And they aren’t necessarily easy to work with. But they are beloved and favored by God and as imitators of Christ we are called to work with them offering grace and acceptance.
