When Grace Calls the Unlikely

January 17, 2026 Saturday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
Memorial of Saint Anthony, Abbot
Daily Readings: 1 Samuel 9:1-4, 17-19; 10:1; Mark 2:13-17

Children of God: Levi is one of the notorious chief tax collectors during the time of Jesus and today, we will walk through his usual routine. Before sunrise, he sits at his tax booth near the road, ledgers open, guards nearby. People avoid his eyes, but some utter curses under their breath. Levi knows why. He collects taxes for the Roman occupiers, often demanding more than required. By the end of the day, his hands are full of coins, wealth surrounds him, he eats well, lives in a comfortable bed, but lives knowing that to his own people, he is a traitor.

Just like many others, Levi also has heard many stories about a teacher from Nazareth, someone who speaks with authority, heals the sick, and dares to cross social boundaries. Levi probably assumes this rabbi will pass him by like everyone else. Holy men do not speak to tax collectors. Religious teachers do not stop at social outcasts like hin. If they do, it is usually to condemn.

Then something unexpected happens. Jesus stops. He looks at Levi, not with disgust or suspicion. No lecture. No accusation. Just two words that change everything: “Follow me” (Mark 2:14). Levi stands up, leaves his table, and walks away from the life that defined him. 

What are our inspirations for today as we reflect on this moment?

First, Jesus sees people not by their reputation but by their possibility.
In the gospel of Mark, Jesus calls Levi while he is still seated at the tax booth, not after he has reformed his life or apologized publicly (Mark 2:14). Levi is still a tax collector when Jesus invites him. This tells us that God’s call often comes before we become ready. 

Many of us believe we must first fix ourselves before God can use us. We think holiness is a requirement for being called, rather than a result of being called. Levi’s story challenges this idea. Jesus does not say, “Change first, then follow.”  He simply says, “Follow me,” trusting that the act of following will begin the transformation.

This also invites us to examine how we see others. We are quick to reduce people to labels: corrupt, immoral, unreliable, unworthy. Jesus refuses to do that. He looks beyond what a person has done and on who a person can become. The call of Levi reminds us that no one is beyond the reach of grace.

Second, mercy is not a reward for the righteous but a lifeline for the broken.
Jesus sits at table with tax collectors and sinners, provoking criticism from the scribes of the Pharisees (Mark 2:15–16). Eating together in that culture was a sign of acceptance and belonging. By sharing a meal with them, Jesus publicly aligns himself with people society had already rejected.

When questioned, Jesus responds: “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners” (Mark 2:17). This is an honest diagnosis of the human condition. Mercy is the medicine for wounded lives and not the prize for good behavior.
This challenges the way we understand faith. Christianity is a field hospital for those who know they need healing, and not a private club for the morally superior. If the Church ever becomes a place where only the “acceptable” feel welcome, then it has forgotten the table where Jesus first sat with Levi and his friends.

Children of God: The story of Levi reminds us that God’s grace interrupts ordinary days, unsettles comfortable judgments, and invites unlikely people into new futures. Jesus still walks past our tables—places where we are stuck, compromised, or misunderstood—and still says, “Follow me.” The question is not whether we are worthy of the call, but whether we are willing to stand up and walk with him.