Proximity
On The Importance of Mercy Over Sacrifice
“And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’ But when he heard this, he said, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.’” Matthew 9:10-13
As followers of Jesus we are called to be committed to intentionally building relationships across diversity and difference. Why? Because this is what Jesus himself did. Jesus set aside his concern for what other people might think of him and demonstrated what it looks like to build meaningful relationships with people who are different, people who were not popular, people who were not perfect. This is essential for our culture in this moment, where our polarization and demonization of those who are different is quite literally tearing us apart.
In our short gospel reading today, Jesus is having a meal with a group described as “tax collectors and sinners.” In Jesus’ culture, tax collectors were people seen as having betrayed their own community, because they worked with the Roman Empire to impose hefty taxes on the Jewish people and would often add an extra levy to line their own pockets. They were, essentially, government workers for a government that was really quite terrible. Sinners, in this context, likely refers to people whose lifestyle put them outside of the Jewish purity code, people who may have been ceremonially unclean because of how they lived, the work they did, how they loved, or the mistakes they had made along the way.
These were two groups of people who faced a great deal of judgment from their community, and a righteous teacher like Jesus was expected not only to avoid engaging with such people but to actively judge and condemn them. But, as we see in our text, this is not at all what Jesus does. Rather than avoiding people that others viewed as “bad,” rather than even caring about how he might be perceived, he reclines at their dinner table, befriends them, and shows them love.
The Pharisees, whom many scholars believe are the religious sect of Judaism that Jesus himself was a part of, are appalled. They seem to suggest that Jesus’ proximity to people they viewed as unclean or worthy of judgment said something fundamental about Jesus’ own character and validity as a teacher. Looking at his disciples, the Pharisees ask, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” This wasn’t a question of inquiry. It was an accusation. The idea that anyone truly godly, holy, and righteous would associate with people who were the object of judgment and rejection by the religious and political elite was simply unthinkable.
And when Jesus hears their accusation, he responds sharply and simply: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”
Jesus responds by saying that the entire goal of his life and ministry was to bring healing to people, and asks why anyone would expect him to spend his days among those who think they are righteous, rather than among those who know they are not. Why would he spend his time with those who are so good at performing goodness, saying the right words, wearing the right clothes, doing the right rituals, rather than those who have been humbled by life, their choices, and their circumstances, and who may actually be open to learning what true righteousness looks like?
Jesus then quotes a passage from the Old Testament and tells the Pharisees to “go and learn what this means.” The quote is God speaking to the people of Israel: “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” What does that mean? Quite simply, Jesus is embodying the message that the prophets preached for generations throughout the Old Testament, the message about what God actually expects from humans, the message about what actually makes a righteous person. And the overwhelmingly clear answer of scripture is mercy and not sacrifice. Kindness rather than performative judgment. Acts of service to those in need rather than performing religious rituals. Extending grace to those who have stumbled rather than condemning and disregarding them for the sake of feeling vindicated and holy.
Mercy, not sacrifice, is a simple way to sum up the entire corpus of the commands of Jesus. God wants us to be a people who extend mercy to others rather than make performative sacrifices. This means that the measure of a person, according to God, is not defined by their voting record, their social media posts, the bumper stickers on their car, or the cleanness of their moral record. The measure of a person is how quick they are to have grace, to extend mercy, to serve, love, and welcome their neighbor.
In our day, it is far too easy to get swept up in the thinking that “sacrifice” is what actually matters. Sacrifice, in our context, is all of the ways we perform to be affirmed by others or to convince others that we’re actually good. It is outward focused, even though we often lie to ourselves and say it’s for God or for other people. Sacrifice is surface-level. It requires nothing from us. It is a performance of our stated beliefs and values.
God doesn’t say sacrifice is wrong. It’s not wrong to want people to know what you believe or where you stand. It is not wrong to want to feel righteous or to have a good public image. But it is not what actually makes an impact. It’s not what actually helps our world. It’s not what actually pleases God. Only mercy can do that.
Mercy means being quick to forgive, quick to listen to others’ perspectives, and slow to cast judgment. Mercy means being willing to love, support, and put our arm around people who are suffering, or lost, or who have been cast aside. Mercy means letting people know that they are valued, even when the world has told them that they are worthless. Mercy invites us to be in proximity to people who are struggling. It invites us to be curious and willing to engage with people who see the world differently. Mercy draws us towards those who are hurting, while sacrifice compels us to pull away in order to protect our own self-image.
As we move into our lives this week, the Spirit is inviting us to reflect on Jesus’ invitation to learn what it means that God desires mercy and not sacrifice. We are invited to look honestly at our hearts, the ways we’ve built walls and barriers, thrown stones of judgment, and been unwilling to get out of our comfort zone in order to show mercy and grace towards the people in our lives who actually need it. What kinds of people do you have an impulsive bias against? What kinds of people have you written off as unworthy of your attention?
This is not about getting rid of boundaries with people who hurt us, or intentionally pursuing people because they have bad reputations. The invitation is to look at the people already in our lives who really need our support, but from whom we’ve stepped back because we thought they were too much, or because we were worried about how they might affect our comfort or reputation.
To be a follower of Jesus is to be a pursuer of the hurting. To be willing to sit at the table and listen to the stories of those others have rejected. To refuse to view anybody as beyond redemption or unworthy of a hand up from the ditch of failure. To be willing to be judged or misunderstood by others because of our faithfulness in loving and extending compassion to those who need it most.
This summer, may we commit to learning and embodying what “mercy and not sacrifice” really means. May we be known for how extravagant our love is, how wide the circle is that we welcome people into, and how gracious we are to those who are struggling. Because this is what it means to be a community of Jesus. This is what it means to make a positive impact in our neighborhood. And this is what God requires of us. May we heed that call.