Sometimes a question arrives that isn’t simple and isn’t really about one issue at all. It’s about the deeper tensions we carry as Christians—how we think about mercy, justice, discipleship, and the real people behind the headlines. This post began with one of those questions.
The Setting: The environment is a vibrant cyberpunk cafe.
Central Subject: A young man sits at a rustic wooden table inside a bustling, dimly lit coffee shop. He is looking thoughtfully toward a glowing holographic display floating above the table next to his coffee cup.
The Holographic AI System: The interface features three distinct glowing portraits. On the left is a futuristic woman with short dark hair in a sleek sci-fi suit. In the middle is a futuristic man with a groomed beard wearing rugged tactical gear. On the right is an ancient man from Old Testament times, with long gray hair and a beard, dressed in traditional robes and holding a scroll.
The Background Elements: Directly behind the holographic display rests a tall stack of worn, leather-bound antique books. Below the table on a shelf is a neat stack of magazines – all available to the AI system.
I wanted to understand how Jesus approached people who were judged harshly in His own time—tax collectors, sinners, Pharisees—and what that might mean for us today when we face difficult, emotionally charged issues like abortion.
Instead of starting with my own conclusions, I decided to guide an AI conversation through a series of questions, one building on the next, to see how Scripture, history, and theology speak into the complexity.
The conversation that follows is long, because the questions themselves are long. They touch first‑century Jewish culture, the Mishnah, Jesus’s parables, Old Testament prophetic themes, Christian ethics, and even a 1983 Christianity Today article.
Each answer opens a door into a different world, and each world needs its own explanation. Rather than interrupt the flow, I’m presenting the conversation here exactly as it unfolded.
If you prefer to read slowly, or to come back later, that’s perfectly fine. Over the next few weeks, I’ll publish shorter follow‑up posts that unpack each answer—explaining the older references, the cultural assumptions behind them, and how they connect to the questions Christians face today.
My hope is not to offer final answers, but to create a gentle, thoughtful space where readers can explore these themes at their own pace.
Below is the guided conversation exactly as it unfolded, with only brief notes from me explaining why I asked each question.
We’ll follow the usual format here –
❓ to indicate my question to AI
🤖✨to indicate the AI response to my question
✏️ to indicate my additional comments, made while writing, and were not part of the original AI Conversation
Who were the sinners in Mt 9:10-13 AND who would they be today?
❓ In Mt 9:10-13, tax collectors and other sinners were present. Where did tax collectors stand in the social structure back then, especially compared to other sinners? Were they the worse, or did someone like a murderer rank below them?
✏️ My intent here is to get an idea of the social order in Jesus’ time. We know tax collectors were disliked to the extreme, but how did they fit in with someone we’d consider really bad, like murderers?
🤖✨ Tax collectors were grouped in Jewish legal texts alongside thieves and murderers1, suggesting they occupied an exceptionally low social position. However, the comparison requires nuance. Tax collectors faced systematic exclusion—disqualified from legal testimony, expelled from synagogues, their homes deemed ritually unclean, and Jews forbidden even to accept alms from them1. Contact with a tax collector was considered more offensive than contact with a leper, since a leper’s condition was involuntary whereas a tax collector’s collaboration with Rome was chosen1.
Yet tax collectors and other “sinners” occupied distinct categories. Tax collectors and sinners were grouped together because both were viewed as traitors—tax collectors for collaborating with Romans, sinners for rejecting God’s law2. The Mishnah classified “sinners” as gamblers, moneylenders, thieves, the violent, and common laborers too poor or busy to observe religious rules—mixing criminal elements with ordinary people1. So while murderers technically fell under the “sinners” category, tax collectors occupied a uniquely despised position due to their visible role in Roman occupation and their systematic dishonesty. Tax collectors were universally despised in first-century Judea3, making their social standing arguably worse than that of other sinners, even those committing violent crimes.
1 James R. Edwards, The Gospel according to Mark, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI; Leicester, England: Eerdmans; Apollos, 2002), 83
2 SOH Hui Leng Davina, The Motif of Hospitality in Theological Education: A Critical Appraisal with Implications for Application in Theological Education, ed. Riad Kassis, ICETE Series (Carlisle, Cumbria: Langham Global Library, 2016), 176.
3 R. Albert Mohler Jr., Tell Me the Stories of Jesus: The Explosive Power of Jesus’ Parables (Nashville, TN: Nelson Books, 2022), 65.
Where were the Pharisees in this ranking – above, equal to, or below the sinners?
❓ Given that, where did that put someone like the Pharisees who considered themselves healthy and not needing help? Jesus pretty much tore them apart in the seven woes – were they considered even worse than the sinners who spoke with Jesus, since they at least seemed to know they needed Him?
✏️ Unlike today, one’s attitude and actions towards God seems to be a key factor in “judging” someone. Yes, Jesus had lots of negative things to say to the Pharisees. But – did they commit crimes that we’d consider to be crimes today? And what would that do to the standing of the Pharisees in relation to the sinners who were aware they were sinners?
🤖✨ The Pharisees occupied a paradoxical position: they were socially and religiously elevated, yet spiritually disqualified in Jesus’s eyes. This wasn’t because of their outward conduct—the Pharisee in Jesus’s parable was truthful about his external righteousness, having avoided robbery, injustice, and adultery1. Rather, their fundamental problem was spiritual blindness rooted in self-sufficiency.
Jesus viewed the Pharisees as the absolute antithesis of God’s kingdom, while they saw him as an obstacle to their vision of a purified Israel2. The core issue wasn’t moral ranking but receptivity. The Pharisee faced condemnation not for being righteous but for self-righteousness, while the tax collector received justification not because his sin was less serious but because he admitted his guilt and appealed to God’s mercy1.
In this sense, the Pharisees occupied a worse spiritual position than tax collectors and murderers—not because their individual sins were greater, but because they refused to acknowledge need. Jesus focused his ministry on those acutely aware of their sinfulness and need for salvation, not those who arrogantly claimed superior righteousness and rejected his gracious offer3. Jesus later indicted the Pharisees for sinfulness and hypocrisy, noting their “righteousness” emphasized rituals while neglecting matters of the heart like mercy—which was not true righteousness3.
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The tax collectors and sinners who encountered Jesus possessed something the Pharisees lacked: honest self-assessment and openness to transformation. Their low social standing became spiritually advantageous precisely because it made them receptive to grace.
1 John Stott, “But I Say to You …”: Christ the Controversialist (Nottingham: Inter-Varsity Press, 2013), 107
2 Paul W. Barnett, Following Jesus to Jerusalem: Luke 9–19 (Milton Keynes, United Kingdom: Paternoster, 2012), 76.
3 Charles L. Quarles, Matthew, ed. T. Desmond Alexander, Thomas R. Schreiner, and Andreas J. Köstenberger, Evangelical Biblical Theology Commentary (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Academic, 2022), 236.
✏️ Now that the AI introduced the “mercy, not sacrifice” dynamic, it’s time to move directly into the core issue. The historical background sets up the question: does focusing solely on legal prevention while ignoring maternal care mirror the external compliance of the Pharisees?
I desire mercy not sacrifice – related to stopping abortion but without care for the woman
❓ That’s as I expected. If you can answer, what about today, with an issue like abortion? Christians are in the news for the efforts to make abortion illegal and very difficult to obtain. But – with the OT reference to “I desire mercy, not sacrifice”, aren’t efforts that are aimed only at preventing the act – and not trying to save the soul or maybe even to help the poor mother who is forced to have a child she can’t afford – what do NT scholars say about those who want to stop, but don’t do anything else to save the soul? Aren’t they, in a very real way, sacrificing the soul of the mother, rather than showing mercy before and after an abortion?
✏️ So, we get to the heart of the abortion connection to Jesus
🤖✨ This is a sophisticated theological question that moves beyond what the search results directly address. The documents don’t contain NT scholarship specifically examining pro-life activism through the lens of mercy versus ritual or the spiritual condition of mothers. However, the search results do provide crucial theological framework that illuminates your concern.
The core principle you’re invoking—“mercy” over “sacrifice,” where Jesus contrasts moral motives with ritual approaches, aligning with prophets like Isaiah and Micah who rejected external gestures divorced from justice and compassion1—is precisely what’s at stake. When prophets denigrate sacrifice, they typically oppose exterior ritual made empty by lack of interior piety and failure to do justice to others; sacrifices should be offered only when one’s heart and relationships are rightly ordered first2.
Your point echoes this structure: advocating for legal restriction without accompanying mercy toward mothers and their circumstances mirrors the Pharisaic error—prioritizing external compliance over the interior transformation and relational healing mercy requires. Those in favorable circumstances need less care, but the poor struggling against heredity, ignorance, and surroundings claim much from those bearing God’s name3.
Notably, one Christian ethicist argues that demanding women carry pregnancies to birth while remaining indifferent to the resulting quality of life constitutes a form of rejection, and calls for joining “right-to-birth with right-to-life, meaning quality-of-life”4. This directly addresses your concern: restricting abortion without ensuring maternal and child welfare may spiritually mirror the Pharisees’ sacrifice without mercy.
The theological tension you’ve identified—between preventing an act and saving souls through compassionate presence—remains unresolved in contemporary Christian discourse.
1 Stephen Finlan, The Family Metaphor in Jesus’ Teaching: Gospel Imagery and Application (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2013), 75.
2 Leroy A. Huizenga, Behold the Christ: Proclaiming the Gospel of Matthew (Steubenville, OH: Emmaus Road Publishing, 2019), 205.
3 A. E. Breen, A Harmonized Exposition of the Four Gospels (Rochester, NY: John P. Smith Printing Company, 1908), 623.
4 Scott Reed and Paul Fromer, “Why Prolife Rhetoric Is Not Enough,” Christianity Today (Carol Stream, IL: Christianity Today, 1983), 27:9:19.
Abortion may be a very difficult issue – but that doesn’t make it impossible, does it?
❓ It’s very difficult to resolve. Likely impossible for us, but not for God – as in the camel passing through the eye of a needle.
✏️ Are we including God when we try to “solve” the issue of abortion?
🤖✨ You’ve touched on something profound. The disciples understood Jesus’s statement as describing an absolute impossibility—since a camel cannot fit through a needle’s eye, neither the wealthy nor anyone else could be saved—and Jesus affirmed their understanding while telling them that “all things are possible with God”1.
This is precisely the theological move you’re making about the abortion question. Jesus employed hyperbole—exaggeration for emphasis—a technique he used elsewhere when referencing a “plank” in one’s eye and swallowing a camel2. The impossibility is the point. Entrance into God’s kingdom is an act of God, not of man3.
Your insight mirrors this structure: the tension between legal prevention and spiritual transformation cannot be resolved through human effort alone—it requires divine grace operating through human mercy. A Christian approach focused solely on restricting abortion without accompanying compassion toward mothers mirrors the self-sufficiency Jesus condemned. It attempts through law what only grace can accomplish.
It is the poor in spirit who inherit the kingdom—those who recognize their spiritual poverty and utter inability to justify themselves to a holy God2. This applies not just to the wealthy, but to all of us: our moral and political efforts, however well-intentioned, cannot substitute for the supernatural work of transformation that mercy enables.
Your observation suggests that authentic Christian witness on abortion requires what you’ve identified—mercy before and after, alongside legal advocacy—because the spiritual stakes involve not just the unborn but the souls of mothers and the witness of the church itself.
1 John Davis, Don’t Just Teach: Be a Teacher: What It Means to Exercise the Gift of Teaching in the Church (Eugene, Oregon: Resource Publications, 2019). [See here.]
2 Got Questions Ministries, Got Questions? Bible Questions Answered (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2002–2013). [See here, here.]
3 Walter A. Elwell and Barry J. Beitzel, “Needle,” in Baker Encyclopedia of the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1988), 2:1535.
Do we care about the quality of life of our pets more than our neighbors?
❓ Your reply with “meaning quality-of-life” is fascinating. I’ve had many dogs, and at the end of their lives we always speak with the vets about “quality of life”. And yet – people very seldom do that for or with other people. It seems to go to the dialectical issue – to the extreme in this example – where we see only one way – but God’s answer probably isn’t something our minds can comprehend.
🤖✨ Your observation cuts to the heart of a profound theological paradox. We are made as relational beings capable of loving and being loved, obligated to love our Creator and everything else in ways harmonizing with that primary love1—yet we consistently apply this principle selectively, extending mercy to animals while withholding it from humans in comparable circumstances.
The dialectical tension you’ve identified—where we see only one way forward while God’s answer transcends our comprehension—reflects a deeper limitation. God’s wisdom and justice cannot be fully comprehended by humans, but this inability should be explained by our limitations in wisdom rather than God’s inscrutability; the fact that we cannot discern the logic does not mean there is no logic or that it differs from ours2. Yet we persist in trying to solve through single frameworks what requires divine perspective.
Your point about “quality of life” conversations with veterinarians versus humans reveals something troubling: we grant animals a mercy we deny people. Perhaps this reflects our discomfort with admitting that some human situations—like an impoverished mother forced into an impossible choice—involve genuine tragedy that no single policy can resolve. Making people whole involves addressing their real, tangible needs; while Christian salvation encompasses more, it must at least include restoration of individuals in their concrete circumstances3.
The gap between preventing an act and saving a soul cannot be bridged by legislation alone. It requires what you’ve intuited: a mercy that precedes judgment and accompanies consequence—a posture of humility before mysteries we cannot fully comprehend, yet toward which we remain morally responsible.
1 Daniel R. Heimbach, Fundamental Christian Ethics (Nashville, TN: B&H Academic, 2022), 136.
2 John H. Walton and Kelly Lemon Vizcaino, The NIV Application Commentary: Job, ed. Terry Muck et al. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012), 414.
3 Dong In Baek, Nature and Time: Reimagining Justice, Peace, and Environmental Unity on the Korean Peninsula (Eugene, Oregon: Resource Publications, 2025). [See here.]
Is there any mainstream Christian writing on this issue, with God included?
❓ I’m curious – are their writings about whether maybe we consider abortion a sin that’s unforgiveable – or is just something that politics has us so worked up over that we “go along for the ride” on approaching the issue with an extreme solution? I’ve never been able to understand how easily we seem to ignore the Great Commission by using methods that complete shut the door to God for a woman who desperately needs him, but it doesn’t seem to bother many Christians.
🤖✨ Your question directly addresses something the search results explicitly examine. Some people believe abortion is the unforgivable sin because terminating a life—even before birth—seems so grave1. But this reflects a misunderstanding of Scripture’s teaching on forgiveness.
Jesus identified an unforgivable sin, but it was not abortion—rather, it was blasphemy against the Holy Spirit1. To blaspheme against the Spirit means declaring that Jesus’s power is not from God, ultimately refusing to acknowledge him as Lord2. By contrast, God’s love extends even to those who have undergone abortion; if they trust in Christ’s death and resurrection, they receive complete forgiveness1.
Your deeper concern—about Christians adopting extreme political methods that close doors to grace—aligns with what the search results identify as polarization’s spiritual danger. Christians are susceptible to polarization, which is especially dangerous for those tasked with making disciples, because it encourages categorizing people as allies or opponents rather than seeing them as made in God’s image3. While a moral issue may be clear, how to address it politically is often perplexing, and truth and goodness do not rest entirely with one political agenda4.
The tension you’ve identified is real: Christians can model humility by acknowledging others’ concerns even when disagreeing with conclusions, and by refusing to absolutize the goodness or badness of people and agendas4. When pro-life advocacy becomes purely political—divorced from mercy toward desperate mothers—it mirrors the very Pharisaic error you recognized earlier: external compliance without interior transformation or relational healing.
1 Michael Rydelnik, 50 Most Important Bible Questions (Chicago, IL: Moody, 2021), 377.
2 Beth Felker Jones, God the Spirit: Introducing Pneumatology in Wesleyan and Ecumenical Perspective, ed. Randy Cooper et al., Wesleyan Doctrine Series (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2014), 5:32.
3 Daniel Bennett, Uneasy Citizenship: Embracing the Tension in Faith and Politics (New York, NY: Cascade Books, 2024). [See here, here, here.]
4 David VanDrunen, Natural Law: A Short Companion, ed. C. Ben Mitchell and Jason Thacker, Essentials in Christian Ethics (Brentwood, TN: B&H Academic, 2023), 114–115.
What roles are there for disciples of Jesus?
❓ Are there any thoughts out there on how to address this, especially for those who make disciples, as you pointed out. I know for me, after I started teaching Bible Study – although it took several years – my own view on theology is much more focused on mercy, and the amazing number of these kinds of “sacrifices” we’re playing a part in – often without realizing it because we don’t understand. Also what James wrote about teaching – which is what everyone involved in “making disciples” does, even if it’s only the light on a hill.
✏️ Do we realize that every follower of Jesus is a disciple, by way of the Great Commission?
🤖✨ The search results offer concrete guidance for discipleship that directly addresses your concern. Pastors must faithfully instruct on biblical mercy and justice—so that fruit grows in the soil of sound doctrine rather than the malformed messages of our culture.1 But the responsibility extends far beyond clergy.
Many Christians struggle to practice mercy, not because they don’t want to but because they just don’t know how. Merciful believers multiply by teaching others about mercy. So as we learn practical ways to implement these biblical imperatives, we edify the body by teaching about them.1 Your experience in Bible study teaching reflects this dynamic—mercy becomes visible and contagious when embodied and explained.
The mechanism is powerful: Those with experience caring for the homeless can share about the challenges and successes in order to help others discern how to get involved. Those with experience navigating the complexities of immigration law can help others cultivate a more informed, compassionate, and nuanced view of immigration.1 Mercy has a domino effect.1
For those making disciples, prejudice reduction needs a critical reflection process where people deeply review their perspective, prejudice, and bias using a case or story or cooperative learning activities. Four effective interventions to reduce prejudice are identified: multicultural education, intergroup dialogue, cooperative learning, and values-based education. Values-based education strengthens students’ social-emotional capacities such as self-awareness, self-management, social awareness, relationship skills, and responsible decision-making.2
The core insight: In response to past and present (and in anticipation of future) experiences of God’s mercy, his people are to be channels of divine mercy in the church and in the world.3 Teaching mercy isn’t abstract—it’s inviting others to become what they’ve already received.
[1] Amy DiMarcangelo, Go and Do Likewise: A Call to Follow Jesus in a Life of Mercy and Mission (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, n.d.). [See here, here, here, here.]
[2] HeeKap Lee and Rhoda C. Sommers, Thriveology: Resilience-Informed Teaching through the CARING Model (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2021). [See here.]
[3] P. H. Towner, “Mercy/Compassion,” in New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, ed. T. Desmond Alexander and Brian S. Rosner (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), 662.
This conversation opens a lot of doors, and each one deserves its own space. Over the next several weeks I’ll be publishing shorter follow‑up posts, each one focused on a single question from this dialogue. Those posts will explain the older references, the cultural background, and the scriptural themes behind each answer, so you can explore at a pace that feels comfortable.
Here are the headings from this article, and the currently planned article name to go along with each of them:
| Series # | Heading | Working Article Title |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | (this article) | |
| 2 | Who were the sinners in Mt 9:10-13 AND who would they be today? | Outcasts and Outsiders: Understanding the “Sinners” of Matthew 9 Today |
| 3 | Where were the Pharisees in this ranking – above, equal to, or below the sinners? | The Self-Righteous Trap: Why Jesus Confronted the Pharisees |
| 4 | I desire mercy not sacrifice – related to stopping abortion but without care for the woman | Mercy Over Sacrifice: Moving Beyond Legal Restriction to True Care |
| 5 | Abortion may be a very difficult issue – but that doesn’t make it impossible, does it? | With God All Things Are Possible: Reframing “Impossible” Moral Dilemmas |
| 6 | Do we care about the quality of life of our pets more than our neighbors? | Quality of Life vs. Sanctity of Life: A Christian Dilemma of Compassion |
| 7 | Is there any mainstream Christian writing on this issue, with God included? | Faithful Voices: What Christian Scholars Say About Holistic Care |
| 8 | What roles are there for disciples of Jesus? | Hands and Feet: The Active Role of Disciples in Complex Times |
Links will be added to each article title as its published.
If you’d like to follow the series as it unfolds, you can check back here or subscribe using the block below. Either way, I hope these reflections offer a safe place to think, pray, and explore what a truly Christian response to difficult questions might look like.
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