CHAPTER 5 Good News for Sinners

Too many Christians in this media-driven era think of evangelism as a marketing challenge where they must “sell” the gospel by making it sound as easy and attractive as possible. They labor to sound as politically correct, seeker sensitive, ego-affirming, and agreeable as possible. But the product of that goal is a message that fails to confront individuals with the reality of their sin. This leads to spurious “faith” and unconverted church members. As a result, even the most conservative churches are teeming with people who, claiming to be born again, live like pagans.

But contemporary Christians have been conditioned never to question anyone’s profession of faith. Multitudes declare that they trust Christ as Savior while indulging in lifestyles that are plainly inconsistent with God’s Word-yet no one dares to challenge their testimony.

I once spent time with a fellow minister who drove me through his city. We passed a large liquor store, and I happened to mention that it was an unusual-looking place.

“Yes,” he said. “There is a whole chain of those stores around the city, all owned by one man. He is a member of my Sunday school class.”
I wondered aloud how such a thing could be, and the minister replied, “Oh, he’s quite faithful. He is in class every week.”
“Does it bother him that he owns all those liquor stores?” I asked.
“We’ve talked about it some,” he said. “But he feels people are going to buy liquor anyway, so why not buy it from him?”
I asked, “What is his life like?”
“Well, he did leave his wife and is living with a young girl,” the minister replied. Then after several minutes of my bewildered and uncomfortable silence, he added, “You know, sometimes it’s hard for me to understand how a Christian can live like that.”

I must confess that it is hard for me to understand how someone who teaches the Bible can assume that a man living in wanton rebellion against God’s standards is a Christian merely because he claims to be even if he attends Sunday school every week.

Coming to Grips with Sin

Many Christians today have the idea that salvation is only the granting of eternal life, not necessarily the liberation of a sinner from the bondage of his iniquity. We tell people that God loves them and has a wonderful plan for their lives, but that is only half the truth. God also hates sin and will punish unrepentant sinners with eternal torment. No gospel presentation is complete if it avoids or conceals those facts. Any message that fails to define and confront the severity of personal sin is a deficient gospel. And any “salvation” that does not alter a lifestyle of sin and transform the heart of the sinner is not the salvation God’s Word speaks of.

Sin is no peripheral issue as far as salvation is concerned; it is the issue. In fact, the distinctive element of the Christian message is the power of Jesus Christ to forgive and conquer our sin. Of all the realities of the gospel, none is more wonderful than the news that the enslaving grasp of sin has been broken. This truth is the heart and the very lifeblood of the Christian message.

It is absurd to suggest that a person can encounter the holy God of Scripture and be saved without also coming to grips with the heinousness of sin and consequently longing to turn from it. In the Bible, those who met God were invariably confronted with an overwhelming sense of their own sinfulness. Peter, seeing Jesus for who He was, said, “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8). Paul wrote, “It is a trustworthy statement, deserving full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, among whom I am foremost of all” (1 Tim. 1:15). Job, whom God Himself identified as a righteous man (Job 1:1, 8), said after seeing God face-to-face, “I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6 KJV). Isaiah, seeing God, gasped, “Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the of hosts” (Isa. 6:5).

There are many other examples of men and women in Scripture who, having seen God, feared for their own lives-always because they were smitten with the weight of their own sin. It is appropriate, then, that when Matthew relates his own conversion experience, the central truth that emerges is Christ’s mercy to sinners.

Matthew 9:9-13 describes the incident, along with the controversy that ensued. In one of the most important statements ever recorded in the Bible, the Lord says, “I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (v. 13). This statement contains a full perspective on Jesus’ ministry, a summary of the message of Christianity, a close-up of the nucleus of the gospel, and the basic rationale behind the incarnation.

Why did Jesus come into the world? To call sinners-those who know they have a terminal disease, those who are hopeless and desperate, those who are hurting, those who are hungry and thirsty, those who are weak and weary, those who are broken, those whose lives are shattered, those who are desperate sinners who know they are unworthy yet long to be forgiven.

Jesus’ words were aimed at the self-righteous Pharisees, who, like many today, thought they were righteous and without any real spiritual need. The truth is that unless people realize they have a sin problem, they will not come to Christ for a solution. People do not come for healing unless they know they have a disease; they do not come for life unless they are conscious that they are under the penalty of death; they do not come for salvation unless they are weary of the bondage of sin.

Thus Jesus came to expose us all as sinners. That is why His message was so penetrating, so forceful. It tore our self-righteousness away and exposed our evil hearts so that we might see ourselves as sinners.

Receiving Sinners

Throughout his gospel, Matthew argues that Christ is the Messiah of Israel. In chapters 8 and 9 he describes a series of Jesus’ miracles categorically selected to show the range of the Messiah’s credentials. He lists nine miracles, showing Jesus’ power over sickness (8:1-17), over nature (8:23–27), over demons (8:28-34), over death (9:18-26), over blindness (9:27–31), and over a silent tongue (9:32-34).

Matthew’s conversion itself falls in among those miracles, right after a spectacular miracle designed to demonstrate Jesus’ power over sin (9:1-8). Christ had just forgiven a paralyzed man’s sins, and in a monumental display of His divine authority, He confirmed His deity before the Pharisees by commanding the disabled man to take up his bed and walk. Following immediately on the heels of that narrative, verse 9 describes the call and salvation of Matthew: “As Jesus passed on from there, He saw a man called Matthew, sitting in the tax collector’s booth; and He said to him, ‘Follow Me!’ And he got up and followed Him.”

By this account, which is consistent with Mark’s and Luke’s versions, Jesus spoke only two words to him: “Follow Me!” And Matthew obeyed. Luke 5:28 adds this significant statement: “And he left everything behind.” He forsook all to follow Christ. Matthew was too humble to say that about himself, but Luke did—and it speaks volumes about the nature of Matthew’s conversion. He paid a great price, perhaps a higher price than any of the other disciples. A fisherman who followed Jesus could always go back to fishing. But a tax collector who left his station was finished, because the next day Rome would have someone else to take his place. Yet Matthew forsook everything immediately. He didn’t say, “Well, I’m coming Lord-but, hey, I could finance this whole operation if You’d just let me grab these bags!” He turned his back on it all, forsaking everything he had.

Matthew was a major sinner, and everyone knew it. By the standards of his day, he was unequivocally the vilest, most wretched sinner in Capernaum. He was a publican, a willing tool of the Roman government, employed in the odious task of squeezing tax money out of his own people. Publicans would buy franchises from Rome. That gave them the right to collect taxes in a certain town or district. By buying into the Roman system, Matthew had revealed himself as a traitor to Israel. Nothing in the mind of the Jewish people was more offensive. He had hired on to the conquering pagans who oppressed his own people and in doing so established his reputation as the worst kind of turncoat, heretic, and renegade.

Rome required each publican to collect a certain amount of taxes. Anything they acquired after that, they could keep. The Roman government, in order to keep their tax collectors happy and productive, supported them in the wildest excesses and abuses. They virtually had a free hand to overcharge people and extort whatever they could from their countrymen. A shrewd publican could amass a huge fortune in very little time—all at the expense of his own oppressed brethren. Understandably, they were regarded with the utmost contempt by all Israel.

Publicans were so despised by the Jews that they were barred from the synagogues. They were regarded as unclean beasts, treated like swine. They could not be witnesses in any court of law because they were not to be trusted. They were known as flagrant liars, classified with robbers and murderers.

Most Jews believed it was wrong to pay taxes to Rome. Looking backward to an Old Testament theocracy, they believed only God should receive their money. That is why the Pharisees tested Jesus, attempting to bring Him into disfavor either with Rome or with the people by asking Him whether it was right to pay taxes (Matt. 22:15-22).

Matthew had authority to collect taxes on almost everything. In addition to import and export taxes, he was free to assess bridge tolls, harbor fees, and road-use taxes. He could open every package coming along the road. He could even open private letters to see if business was being conducted. If so, he could also tax that.

His office was located at the confluence of two roads, probably right at the north port of the Sea of Galilee. That would have put him at a strategic point on the road from Damascus, where he could tax everyone going east and west. He also could tax the area’s highly productive fishing industry.

Note that Matthew was sitting at the tax table. Some publicans, concerned about their reputations, stayed out of the public eye by hiring others to collect taxes for them. But the really brash ones—the ones who did not care what people thought of them-actually sat at the table themselves rather than paying someone else to do it. It was one thing to be a publican; it was worse to flaunt it. Rabbinical tradition said it was impossible for a man in his position to repent. You can imagine the gasps from the crowd when Jesus stopped before Matthew and said, “Follow Me.”

Matthew must have been a man under conviction. Deep down in his heart he must have longed to be free from his life of sin, and that must have been why he virtually ran to join Christ. Because it meant giving up so much, he would never have followed Jesus on a whim. He surely knew what he was getting into. Jesus had ministered publicly all over that area; everyone in the vicinity of Capernaum knew who He was and what He taught. They had seen His miracles, signs, and wonders. Matthew was familiar with Jesus’ rigorous demands for discipleship (Matt. 8:18-22). He knew what he was being recruited for. He had counted the cost and was prepared to follow.

Eating with Tax-Gatherers and Sinners

Matthew decided to have a banquet to introduce Jesus to his friends. Like most new believers, he wanted to bring everyone he knew to Christ. Luke 5:29 reveals that Matthew (who was also known as Levi) held the banquet in his own house. Jesus was the honored guest. This gathering was attended by some of the most villainous people in the history of banquets. The only people Matthew knew were sordid types, wretched sinners, because no one else would associate with him. The respectable people despised him. His friends were thieves, blasphemers, prostitutes, con artists, swindlers, and other tax collectors—the riffraff of society.

Supercilious religious types would say, of course, that Jesus shouldn’t go to a banquet with such degenerates. That is exactly what the Pharisees thought. But that was not the way of the Savior. Matthew 11:19 indicates that He was known among the people as “a friend of tax collectors and sinners.” This very banquet probably gave rise to that perception. The Pharisees meant it derisively, but it was nonetheless a fitting title for the Son of Man.

Matthew 9:10 sets the scene: “It happened that as Jesus was reclining at the table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were dining with Jesus and His disciples.” This was so scandalous to the self-righteous Pharisees that they could hardly conceal their shock. If he were really the Messiah, they thought, he would be having a dinner for us!

Apparently the Pharisees lingered outside until the banquet was over. Avoiding a head-on confrontation with Jesus, they cornered the disciples and asked, “Why is your Teacher eating with the tax collectors and sinners?” (v. 11). Rather than an honest question, this was a veiled rebuke, a venting of their bitterness.

On overhearing their conversation, Jesus had His own rebuke: “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire compassion, and not sacrifice,’ for I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (vv. 12-13). Jesus’ answer is a powerful threefold argument, first appealing to human experience, then arguing from Scripture, and finally resting on His own divine authority.

Jesus’ appeal to experience compares sinners to sick people who need a doctor. The analogy is simple: a physician can be expected to visit the ill (or at least that was the case in Jesus’ day), so a forgiver should be expected to visit people who sin. It came as a stinging rebuke to the hard-heartedness of the Pharisees: “If you’re so perceptive as to diagnose them as sinners, what are you going to do about it? Or are you doctors who give diagnoses but no cure?” Thus He exposed the Pharisees as pious critics who freely defined others as sinners but were utterly indifferent to their plight.

Jesus’ argument from Scripture blasted the Pharisees’ pride: “Go and learn” (v. 13). This phrase was used in the rabbinic writings to reprove students who were ignorant about something they should have known. It was like saying, “Go back through the books and come again when you’ve got the basic information.” He quotes Hosea 6:6, “I delight in loyalty rather than sacrifice.” In other words, God is not concerned with ritual (ceremony) but with compassion, mercy, and loving-kindness (character). The Pharisees, good at ritual, had no love for sinners. God had instituted the sacrificial system and had ordered Israel to follow prescribed rituals, but that was pleasing to God only when it was the expression of a broken and contrite heart (Ps. 51:16-17). When the heart was not right, the ritual was an abomination. God is never pleased with forms of religion apart from personal righteousness.

The third argument, from His own authority, leveled the Pharisees: “I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (v. 13). Luke 5:32 adds the words, “to repentance.” Luke 18:9 describes the Pharisees as “some people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt.” Here, in essence, Jesus is saying to them, “You say you’re righteous, and I accept that as your self-evaluation. But if that’s the case, I have nothing to say to you, for I have come to call sinners to repentance.”

The Greek word translated “call” here is kaleō, a word often used for inviting a guest into one’s home. Such an invitation is found in Matthew 22:1-14, a parable that fits perfectly with Jesus’ words to these Pharisees. There, Jesus pictured His kingdom as a banquet. A king sent invitations calling all his friends to a wedding banquet for his son, but everyone who was invited refused to come. So the king told his servants to invite anyone they could find. These pious, cold-hearted, self-righteous Pharisees were like those who refused to come to the banquet. They would not acknowledge their sin, so they could not respond to Jesus’ call. After all, Jesus came to call sinners to repentance.

Refusing the Righteous

God receives sinners. The flip side of that truth is that He refuses the righteous. Not that there are any truly righteous people, of course (Rom. 3:10). But those who think they are good enough-those who do not understand the seriousness of sin-cannot respond to the gospel. They cannot be saved, for the gospel is a call to sinners to repent and be forgiven. These are frightening words: “I did not come to call the righteous.” The unmistakable message is that Christ’s gracious call to salvation is not extended to those who view themselves as righteous.

From the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, the heart of His message was a call to repentance. In fact, when our Lord first began to preach, the opening word of His message was “Repent” (Matt. 4:17). It was also the first word of John the Baptist’s message (Matt. 3:2) and the basis of the gospel the apostles preached (Acts 3:19; 20:21; 26:20). No one who neglects to call sinners to repentance is preaching the gospel accurately.

Now and then a preacher will smugly say that he does not preach on sin because it is too negative. A few years ago, a well-known preacher sent me a book he had written in which he redefined sin as nothing more than a poor self-image. The way to reach people, he said, is to bolster their self-esteem, not to make them think of themselves as sinful. There is no gospel in a message like that! Rather than bringing people to salvation, it confirms them in the self-condemning vanity of their own egos.

Christ’s call to salvation and discipleship is extended only to desperate sinners who realize their need and desire transformation. Our Lord came to save sinners. But to those who are unwilling to admit their sin, He has nothing to say-except to pronounce judgment.