Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 2889
“And it came to pass, as Jesus sat at the table in the house, behold, manypublicans and sinners came and sat down with Him and His disciples.” Matthew 9:10.
How strangely different was our Lord Jesus Christ from the philosophers of Greece! They were reserved in their demeanor—eclectic, or studiously choice in their tastes and jealous of contact with their fellow creatures. Retiring from the busy haunts of men to encircle themselves with an atmosphere created by their own breath, they wanted none in their society but those who were fit companions for men so exalted in wisdom. Their disciples looked up to them with profound and insincere reverence—and they, themselves, in their various halls and classrooms, talked as men might who were teaching little children. And their pupils were completely subject to their dictation, but they always kept “the common people” at a distance, for they concerned not themselves to instruct the many, but only to teach the few who were ambitious to become wise like themselves!
Our blessed Lord and Master was no philosopher of this sort, shut up with His few disciples by themselves. He had His chosen twelve, but He and they mingled freely with the populace. He was a man among men and not a philosopher among those shut out from men. True, He taught greater wisdom than all the sages knew—and better philosophy than all the wise men of Greece understood—but He was still familiar with the people, tender-hearted, mild and of a gentle spirit. We have an instance of this here, where we read of Jesus doing what Solon or Socrates would never have done, for He sat down to take a meal with the common people around Him, eating with publicans and sinners!
How different, moreover, we may add, was Christ from the great Prophets of the olden time! With the utmost stretch of imagination, you cannot conceive of Moses sitting down to eat with sinners. He was a king in Jeshurun—an awful majesty surrounded the Prophet of Horeb who was mighty in word and deed. Wherever he went, he appeared as the man whom his high office had exalted above his fellows. His whole character, like his face on that memorable occasion when he had been in the mountain with God, shone so brilliantly that ordinary men could scarcely gaze upon him unless he covered his face with a veil. More than once he was hidden in complete seclusion with God. True, he was accessible enough in the due exercise of his office to all who had complaints or charges to be decided at the bar where he presided as judge—but who would presume to think of being a companion to the mighty Moses? Even his brother, Aaron, and his sister, Miriam, seem to have had a great gulf fixed between them and their truly regal brother—they could not approach him without becoming deference, nor could he comes down to be on a social level with them.
Think also of Elijah, the very pattern and model of a Prophet of the Most High God. How high he towered above the men of his age! The fire which Elijah called from Heaven upon the Carmel sacrifice and upon the captains of fifties and their fifties, seemed to be a fitting type of his own character. One can admire him as a Prophet and follow him as a leader, but who could think of having him as a companion and friend? Stern, unflinching, faithful, he has little or no pity for the sinner. The only thing that an erring man could say to Elijah would be what Ahab said to him, “Have you found me, O my enemy?” His sternness in rebuking sin, his bold, thundering denunciation of idolatry made men tremble before him—and we can hardly imagine that publicans and sinners would have been anxious to sit down to eat with him.
But, my Brothers and Sisters, the Christ whose Gospel we preach is no unapproachable philosopher! The Glory of His Person reflects even a brighter luster than the dignity of His office. He appeared among men not as one who had been lifted up from the ranks to obtain a position for Himself, but as one who bowed Himself down from the Heaven of heavens that He might bring blessings to the sons of men—yet the ignorant and the illiterate may find in Him their best Friend. He is no stern Law-Giver, like Moses, who, wrapping around himself the robe of his own integrity, looks upon the transgressor simply with the eye of justice! Neither is He merely the pitiless denouncer of iniquity and crime, or the bold enunciator of penalty and punishment. Christ is the gentle Lover of our souls! He is the Good Shepherd coming forth, not so much to slay the wolf as to save the sheep! As a nurse tenderly watches over the child committed to her charge, so does Jesus watch over the souls of men and, like as a father pities his children, so does He pity sinful men. He does not stand upon a lofty height and bid sinners ascend to Him, but, coming down from the mountain and mingling in social communion with them, He draws them to Himself by the magnetic force of His Almighty Love. “Jesus, the sinners’ Friend”—that is His true title, for that is what He really is! O Jesus, may we personally know You as our Friend just now! We are sinners, be You our Friend.