So much food, so much grace
Notes
Transcript
Food has a remarkable way of transporting you in time, and reminding you of the people you were with when you first had that food.
For me drinking instant coffee out of a plastic cup takes me straight back to camping at Kaitoke with the kids (before I became a coffee snob!) - or a bowl of strawberries and yoghurt dusted with icing sugar immediately makes me feel like a 10 year old on Christmas day back on the orchard in Hastings with my family.
Or this photo which will immediately trigger memories from Rebecca, Edie and Nate. Such a good sausage.
What are your food memories that immediately came to mind?
Now, time to get serious. A little test for you. There’s a phrase that Jesus says three times in the gospels that starts ‘The son of man….’ either the son of man came, or the son of man has come. They’re each different - can you remember what they are?
For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”
For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”
the Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’
The first two statements of purpose. Why did Jesus come? The third is a statement of method.
I know I’ve shared this quote before, but Robert Karris writes:
In Luke’s Gospel Jesus is either going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal.
In Luke’s gospel there are nine mentions of Jesus attending a meal! And these are just meals that Jesus is recorded at being at - food and meals are key to his teaching through the parable. And throughout Luke food is used to describe both salvation and judgement - and people are described in terms of good food and bad food.
Jesus knew the power of food - and the connections you can make with people over even the most simple of meals. And Jesus loved a meal. I came across this comic the other day which fits the theme well today. Apologies in advance.
“Wait a minute, is that Jesus?” Yeah, he comes in every Thursday and orders a bowl of soup.”
“Why is Jesus frequenting a Japanese restaurant?”
“Because he loves miso.”
Sorry.
We’re starting a sermon series about hospitality today, and we’re going to dig into four meals that Jesus attended in Luke’s gospel, and unpick why they’re important for us today.
The meal in our gospel reading is the first meal mentioned in Luke’s gospel, and it’s a bit of a blink and you miss it moment - but it’s so important. I’m about to dive headfirst into a wormhole - but it’s an important one.
How does Luke describe the people attending the meal? Tax collectors and others.
But the pharisees and scribes complain to the disciples (fascinating that they weren’t yet complaining to Jesus…) - how do they describe the people there? Tax collectors and sinners.
Any theories about why there’s a difference between the two descriptions?
Strap in for a speedy theological deep-dive. Jewish purity laws, in under four minutes.
Mount Sinai
After the Exodus, at Mount Sinai God tells Moses to tell the Israelites
Now if you will obey me and keep my covenant, you will be my own special treasure … you will be my kingdom of priests, my holy nation.’
This was a promise of relationship, but it came with a tension: God is holy, and humanity is not.
To bridge this, God gave the purity laws—a way for his people to reflect his holiness and enter his presence. These laws touched every part of life: what you ate, what you touched, and who you spent time with.
But these laws created a dividing line. Holiness was fragile. Contact with anything unclean—a leper, a corpse, or the wrong kind of food—could defile you. For some, these laws were a reminder of God’s presence. For others—lepers, the sick, tax collectors, and the poor—they became barriers, pushing them to the margins and cutting them off from the worshiping community.
Over time, humans used the laws to exclude others. What was meant to be a gift became a tool for division.
But the prophets began to dream of something better. Isaiah envisioned a feast for all nations. Ezekiel spoke of new hearts and God’s Spirit. Jeremiah promised a new covenant, written on hearts, not stone.
The purity laws, though good, became like an old wineskin—beautiful for their time but unable to hold the new wine of what God was preparing.
Then Jesus stepped onto the scene. His holiness wasn’t fragile; it was powerful. It didn’t retreat from impurity—it restored.
Look at Levi, a tax collector: unclean, excluded, with no place at God’s table. Jesus walked up to him and said, “Follow me.” Levi not only followed—he threw a banquet.
And who was there? Tax collectors, “sinners,” all those the laws had excluded. Right in the middle was Jesus. The Pharisees were horrified. They saw holiness as something to protect. But Jesus revealed something radical - his holiness didn’t divide—it restored. It didn’t exclude—it invited.
The new wine of the kingdom wasn’t just for the pure; it was for the broken, the outsider. It was enough to make even Levi feel at home with God.
This is the beauty of Jesus. He didn’t abolish the purity laws—he fulfilled them in a way no one expected. The barriers were gone. The unclean were made clean. The excluded were brought near.
And this isn’t just Levi’s story—it’s ours. Jesus invites us to his table, not because we’re worthy, but because his grace makes us clean.
Now, as his followers, we’re called to do the same: to stop drawing lines and start opening doors. To carry the new wine of his kingdom—a holiness that heals, a grace that welcomes, and a table where everyone has a seat.
Phew! Was anyone timing me? How did I do?
Later in Luke’s gospel he says
the Son of Man has come eating and drinking,
and you say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’
It’s a slur intended to diminish and undermine Jesus - but the reality is that the “excess” of food and “excess” of grace are linked. The excess of food and drink that Jesus was were the means that Jesus shared an absolute abundance of grace and transformation. Meals were not just food - they were a redefinition of community and mission.
Now, we don’t know what Levi served at his banquet with Jesus - but I’d be willing to bet that every time he ate the same food he remembered that moment with Jesus - and all the others who were around the table, and that phenomenal outpouring of grace and inclusion that Jesus alone could offer.
Sharing meals with others is quite honestly the easiest way to share the gospel - and I don’t mean preaching the gospel at your dinner guests, necessarily. Because the reality is, people probably aren’t going to remember what food you served, or the pile of ironing sitting on your couch - but they will remember what it was like being with you and the others in the room.
When you next have people over, spend time praying while you’re cooking (even if it’s just reheating a frozen pizza!) and see what feast Jesus is preparing for you to serve - where is the Spirit already at work in the lives of the people you’ve invited over? What moment of grace, or inclusion do they need to experience today as you reflect the love and light of Christ? And are you prepared to be transformed in response?
Let me pray.
God, even though we’re not worthy, you invite us to be your guests. You lavishly offer us your hospitality and lovingly welcome us into your family.
You invite us to share in the abundance of your kingdom.
Remind us that when we offer hospitality to others, we are receiving Christ into our midst and so fulfilling the law of love.
May we open our hearts to embrace the stranger, the friend, the rich, and the poor,
may we open our lives to offer a generous heart toward all.
Amen.
