Midday usually finds us at our own version of a desk. A laptop, a register, a steering wheel, a sink full of dishes, a spreadsheet that won’t balance. Work is where we spend most of our waking hours, and it is easy to assume that Jesus waits somewhere else — in a church on Sunday, or in a quiet room we’ll get to later.
Matthew’s story says otherwise.
“And as Jesus passed forth from thence, he saw a man, named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom: and he saith unto him, Follow me. And he arose, and followed him.” (Matthew 9:9, KJV)
Matthew was not praying when Jesus found him. He was working — and not at an admired job. Tax collectors in that day gathered money for Rome and were known for taking extra for themselves. Their own people saw them as traitors and thieves. Matthew sat at a booth by the road, counting coins, the kind of man respectable neighbors crossed the street to avoid.
Jesus did not cross the street. He saw him.
Seen at the booth
Before the call comes the look. “He saw a man.” Not a category, not a reputation, not a list of sins. A man, with a name. Many of us carry a quiet fear that if Jesus really saw us — at our desk, in our ordinary compromises, with the shortcuts we take when no one is watching — He would keep walking.
Instead He stops and speaks two words: Follow me.
There is no long sermon first. No list of conditions. No probation period to prove Matthew had cleaned up his accounts. The invitation comes right there, in the middle of the workday, to a man with money still on the table. Luke adds that Matthew “left all, rose up, and followed him” (Luke 5:28, KJV). Whatever Jesus saw in that moment, Matthew saw something too: a love that did not need him to be someone else before it called him.
A table full of the wrong people
What Matthew does next is beautiful. He throws a party.
“And it came to pass, as Jesus sat at meat in the house, behold, many publicans and sinners came and sat down with him and his disciples.” (Matthew 9:10, KJV)
Matthew invites the only friends he has — other tax collectors, other outsiders, people with the same kind of reputation. He doesn’t hide Jesus from them. He brings them straight to Him. The first instinct of a newly called heart is often simply this: come meet Him.
Not everyone is pleased.
“And when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto his disciples, Why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners? But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. But go ye and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” (Matthew 9:11–13, KJV)
Jesus calls Himself a physician. Doctors do not avoid sick people; they move toward them. He is not embarrassed to be seen at that table. He came for exactly the people sitting around it — and, if we’re honest, for us.
I will have mercy, and not sacrifice. The religious leaders had plenty of careful rules. What they lacked was mercy. Jesus says, go and learn what that means. It is still a lesson worth learning in the middle of a busy day.
At your own booth today
Wherever you are sitting right now, Jesus is passing by. He sees you there — not the polished version, but the real one. And His call has not changed: Follow me.
For most of us, following today won’t mean walking away from our jobs. It may mean doing this afternoon’s work as someone who belongs to Him. Being honest in a place where cutting corners is normal. Treating the difficult coworker or customer the way Jesus treated Matthew. Opening your table — or your lunch break — to someone others keep at a distance.
And if you feel like the wrong person for Jesus to call, remember who He chose to write the first Gospel in our New Testament. A tax collector. A man at a booth. Someone like us.
A midday prayer
Lord Jesus, thank You for seeing me right where I am, in the middle of my work and my ordinary day. Thank You that You don’t wait for me to be clean before You call me. Help me rise and follow You this afternoon. Make me honest in my work, merciful toward others, and glad to bring people to Your table. Amen.