Where the Sick Are Welcome

Matthew 9:11–13
This morning, I find myself resting in the truth that Jesus didn’t come to condemn the broken—He came to hea

l them. That includes me.
As I read through Matthew 8 and 9, I see the kinds of people He welcomed into His kingdom: lepers, paralytics, the fevered, the demon-afflicted, the chronically ill, tax collectors, and sinners. Not the polished. Not the proud. Not the ones who had it all together. He didn’t come as a judge to cast them out. He came as a physician—to restore what was lost, to breathe life into what was fading, to make the unclean whole again.
That speaks to me deeply. If He had come searching for the qualified, none of us would have stood a chance. But He came searching for the sick. And He saw them not as defiled, but as beloved souls in need of care. That’s mercy. That’s grace.
The Pharisees couldn’t see it. They thought they were strong, righteous, clean. But Jesus knew—they were just as sick. Their pride blinded them to their need. And when they scoffed at Him for sitting with sinners, He answered with piercing clarity:
“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick… I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”
I hear that as a call to humility. A reminder that I’m not called to be impressive—I’m called to be honest. To admit my need. To receive healing. And to extend that same mercy to others who are still limping toward grace.
Lord, make me a citizen of Your kingdom—not by merit, but by mercy. Heal what’s broken in me. And help me see others not through the eyes of judgment, but through the eyes of a fellow patient, grateful for the touch of the Great Physician.