The Joy of Being Called: Finding Life at the King's Table

There's something profoundly transformative about an invitation that changes everything. Not the kind that fills your mailbox or inbox, but the kind that reaches into the deepest part of who you are and calls you to become someone entirely new.

A Professor's Unexpected Journey
Consider the story of Rosaria Butterfield, a respected English professor who spent years actively opposing Christianity. She wrote articles criticizing the faith, championed ideologies contrary to Scripture, and saw Christians as part of society's problems. By all accounts, she was the last person you'd expect to embrace the gospel.
Then came an unexpected letter. Instead of arguing with her published criticisms, a local pastor and his wife simply invited her to dinner. No debate. No condemnation. Just an invitation to their table.
Week after week, Rosaria returned. Around that table, she encountered something she'd never experienced before—Christians who genuinely loved people, not as projects to be won, but as souls worth knowing. They listened to her questions, engaged her arguments, and opened the Bible together. They challenged her to read Scripture for herself.
What began as an intellectual investigation to disprove the Bible slowly transformed into something deeper. As she read, the Jesus she had rejected began to draw her in. Eventually, she surrendered her life to Christ, fully aware of what it would cost her. The battles were just beginning, but she had discovered something worth losing everything for.
The catalyst? A table, open Bibles, and ordinary hospitality.

The Tax Collector Who Left Everything
Matthew 9:9-13 gives us a similar story, though far more brief. Jesus walks by a tax office and sees Matthew sitting there. With just two words, Jesus issues an invitation: "Follow me."
To understand the weight of this moment, we need to grasp who Matthew was. He wasn't just any tax collector—he was among the most despised. In first-century Israel, tax collectors were traitors who worked for Rome, but Matthew belonged to a particularly hated subset. He was the front man, the one sitting in the booth finding every possible thing to tax, skimming extra off the top, getting wealthy while his own people suffered.
Tax collectors couldn't attend synagogue. They had no voice in court. They were outcasts among outcasts.
Yet when Jesus said, "Follow me," Matthew got up and followed. No negotiation. No conditions. Just obedience.
Unlike the fishermen disciples who could return to their nets if things didn't work out, Matthew was walking away from a once-in-a-lifetime financial opportunity with no possibility of return. Others were waiting in line for his position. This was a one-way decision.
What made the difference? Matthew didn't just hear an outward call with his ears—he experienced an inward call from the Holy Spirit that transformed everything.

The Dinner Party That Scandalized the Religious
Matthew's next move reveals the joy of his calling. He threw a party at his house and invited his old crowd—tax collectors and sinners. The very people polite society avoided, Matthew welcomed to meet Jesus.
This wasn't a party to celebrate his old lifestyle. It was an invitation for his lost friends to find the joy he had discovered. Matthew was saying, "I'm not who I was, but let me show you who changed me."
When the Pharisees saw Jesus eating with such people, they were scandalized. "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" they asked the disciples.
Jesus' response cuts to the heart of the gospel: "It is not those who are well who need a doctor, but those who are sick."
The Pharisees thought they were spiritually healthy because of their religious rituals and rule-keeping. But Jesus came for those who recognized their sickness—the sickness of sin that separates us from God and leads to eternal destruction.

Mercy Over Sacrifice
Jesus then quoted Hosea 6:6: "I desire mercy and not sacrifice."
This wasn't a rejection of the Old Testament sacrificial system, which pointed forward to Christ's ultimate sacrifice. Rather, it was a condemnation of empty religious ritual divorced from genuine righteousness and compassion.
Throughout the prophets, God repeatedly expressed His disgust with sacrifices offered by people continuing in sin, injustice, and idolatry. He wanted hearts, not just ceremonies.
In modern terms, God isn't impressed by church attendance when our lives contradict our confession. He isn't moved by Scripture quotes on social media followed by ungodly behavior. He desires transformed hearts that overflow in mercy and compassion toward others.

A Seat at the King's Table
The story of Mephibosheth in 2 Samuel 9 beautifully illustrates our position before God. King David sought out anyone remaining from Saul's family—his former enemy—to show kindness. He found Mephibosheth, Jonathan's son, who was disabled in both feet and living in Lo-debar, a place meaning "no pasture"—essentially a wasteland.
David called this lame man from the family of his enemy and said, "You will always eat meals at my table."
This wasn't a one-time invitation but a permanent place in the king's household. And here's the beautiful detail: when Mephibosheth sat at the table, his disability was hidden. He looked just like everyone else in the king's court.
We are all Mephibosheth. Outside of Christ, we live in spiritual Lodebar—a barren wasteland no matter how much we've accumulated or achieved. We are disabled by sin, paralyzed by our rebellion, enemies of God by nature.
Yet the King calls us to His table. When we humble ourselves, repent, and trust in Christ alone, we receive a permanent seat in His family. Our spiritual disability is covered by His righteousness.

The Call to Hospitality
The thread running through these stories is the power of the table. Rosaria Butterfield was transformed through dinner invitations. Matthew threw a party to introduce his friends to Jesus. Mephibosheth received daily meals with the king.
Hospitality isn't just about being friendly—it's one of the most powerful vehicles for evangelism. When we open our homes and our lives to those who don't know Christ, we create space for the Holy Spirit to work. We meet people where they are, listen to their struggles, and lovingly point them to the truth.
This doesn't mean compromising on what's right and wrong. Jesus never did. He always called people from their sin, not back to it. But He loved them where they were and offered the answer the whole world is searching for.

The Two Calls
There's an outward call that everyone hears: "Follow me." It's the general invitation of the gospel proclaimed to all people.
But there's also an inward call—the work of the Holy Spirit drawing someone from death to life, opening blind eyes, softening hard hearts, making the impossible possible.
Matthew heard both. So did Rosaria. So does everyone who truly comes to Christ.
The question isn't whether you've heard about Jesus. The question is whether the Holy Spirit has convicted you of your sin, shown you your desperate need, and drawn you to trust in Christ alone.

Finding Joy in the Call
Following Jesus cost Matthew everything financially. It cost Rosaria her career and reputation. It costs every believer something.
But there's a joy in being called that transcends any earthly loss. It's the joy of knowing you've been brought from death to life, from enemy to family, from Lodebar to the King's table.
That's the invitation extended today—not to those who think they're spiritually well, but to those who recognize how sick they truly are. To those who know they're disabled by sin and desperate for the Great Physician.
The King is calling. Will you come to His table?