As he walked along, he saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax collector’s booth. ‘Follow me,’ Jesus told him, and Levi got up and followed him.

Mark 2:14

I was on the Internet a couple of weeks back trying to find contact information for a collection agency whose robot was placing innumerable telephone messages on our answering machine. It seems someone named O’Brien owes this robot some money. It saddens me to think that, because of this lowlife, non-parking-ticket-paying degenerate, a hard-working collections robot is destitute and unable to properly upgrade and maintain his little children.

I want to help, but my name isn’t O’Brien.

Cold Calling Deadbeats

In fact, I don’t know any O’Briens, though I think I’d like to. I knew an O’Shannon once, and he told me the Irish are fantastic billiards players. I love billiards.

As usual, I digress. My Internet search taught me two fundamental facts. First, the front line of contact for modern debt collection has gone digital. Placing cold calls to deadbeats who won’t pony up for their magazine subscriptions can’t be the most exciting job in the world, but I suppose the real reason science fiction has taken over is that the job is not that highly regarded. A dispassionate computer is therefore perfect, as it can handle any number of obscenities, hang-ups and snide comments. I can personally vouch for the snide comment bit. I was having a great time until the robot hung up on me. Or maybe it just hung up, if it was a Windows robot.

The second thing I learned, after being distracted (again) by www.smokinggun.com, is that one of the highest complaint volumes in the history of complaints departments seems to involve the New Jersey toll collection system. If you want to explore the depths of human interaction on both sides of the bulletproof glass, it’s a riveting read.

Follow Me

I bring this up because Levi was a toll booth operator. Nobody liked Levi, except presumably the other toll booth operators, and I’d imagine even they kept one eye on Levi and the other on their purses.

Yet Jesus looked at Levi and said, “Follow me.”

I love that Levi did, and I love that sinners of all description also did. But I understand as well. Today, Jesus would walk the downtown East Side (if he was in Vancouver, anyway), a sort of Pied Piper to the prostitute, the car thief, the meth addict, and he would say to them, “Follow Me.” These souls would follow, because unlike the stockbroker who ignores them and keeps speaking into his cell phone, or the CEO who waits in his Range Rover until the group is past, they have a need. Where there is need, there is hope. This hope may not be any more than a tiny, muted flicker; it may not be visible even to the individual himself, but it’s there and it just needs somebody to fan it into flame.

Living in Belief

From hope springs faith, and from faith springs belief. From that belief springs usefulness, and doesn’t God ultimately just want us to be useful?

Who is more useful to God, to God’s people? The financial guru who helps us all to retire comfortably, or the ex-heroin addict who, through faith in Jesus Christ, beat his addiction and blossomed into a believer who descends into gritty alleyways and fans the flame of hope one broken life at a time?

When Jesus is handing out hugs at the finish line, I know who’s going to be at the front of that line. It’s just a shame I’ll be standing too far back to see it.

“One billion, two hundred thirty seven million, eight hundred fifteen thousand, six hundred forty one… now serving number one billion, two hundred thirty seven million, eight hundred fifteen thousand, six hundred forty one.”

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