St. Matthew, Apostle &
Evangelist
September 21, 2025
Text:
Matt. 9:9-13
It was just another day at the tax
booth, there on the border lands, where the toll is levied on persons and
goods. It was hard, at first, drowning
out his conscience: “What’s a good, Jewish boy like me, doing here, working for,
and enriching, the Romans and their local vassals?” And the jeers of his people: “Traitor! Thief!”
But the money was good: A few coins for the government, and a few coins
for me. The authorities don’t care. In fact, it’s expected. “A man’s gotta do something to keep warm.” A man has to eat. And, are a few luxuries, in addition, too
much to ask? Call it “an administrative
fee.” So, Levi… Matthew… and his
similarly calloused colleagues, go about their business, as usual. Another day in the office. Another shekel in the bank.
But then, Matthew looks up. And He is standing there. His dark brown eyes pierce Matthew to his
very soul. There is no hiding the
conscience before His gaze. Even
if one could command the mountains to fall on it, and the hills to cover it…
even if one could tie a millstone to his conscience and drown it in the depths
of the sea… there could be no hiding it from Him. And yet, the look in His eyes is not one of accusation,
but compassion. Not condemnation, but
mercy. And, as piercing as His eyes may
be, even so does He open them to be pierced.
He gives them, as a window into His mind, His heart, His love for the
lost ones. His longing to gather sinners
to Himself, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. To save them from destruction. To save them from their own hell-bent
rebellion. To reconcile them to
Himself. To restore them. To bring them in once again. To give them a place, and a people,
a family, a home. To give
them a new identity. “As Jesus
passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew” (Matt. 9:9; ESV). Saw him all the way. Looked upon him. And that’s how it all started. Matthew would not be the last disciple upon
whom the Lord would bestow His gracious gaze… look upon him, to the very core
(Luke 22:61).
And then He speaks. Two words.
“Follow me” (Matt. 9:9). “Ἀκολούθει
μοι.” And there is no accounting for
it. Not by any human reason,
anyway. Matthew rises… Now, I know, this may be my own eccentricity,
but I can’t help but think there is more going on with that word… He rose…
than simply that Matthew got up out of his chair. Because, by the power of those two words from
Jesus, “Follow me,” Matthew turned… repented… from death to life, from
sin to grace, from unbelief to faith in the One speaking. And he leaves everything. The money.
The booth. The career. And probably some very confused
colleagues. Matthew rises… and follows
Jesus, whom he now knows to be the Way, and the Truth, and the Life (John
14:6).
And the next scene is a party, a
banquet, a feast at Matthew’s house, where many of those confused colleagues,
and their rather disreputable companions, are gathered together, congregated.
And who is reclining in the midst of
them, but Jesus! They are all
gathered about Him. They are basking in
His presence. They are hanging on His
every Word. And though we don’t know
most of the Words He spoke on that particular occasion, we do know what those
Words bestowed on those thus gathered: Forgiveness. Healing.
Life. They’d never met anyone
like Jesus before. They’d never
heard anything like the things He said.
And the things He said, did things. Bestowed things. Created for them a whole new
reality.
Not everyone would have it,
though. And they wouldn’t have anyone
else have it, either. “And when
the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat
with tax collectors and sinners?’” (Matt. 9:11). We had a similar reaction from them in our
Gospel last week: “This man receives sinners and eats with them” (Luke
15:2). Well, why does He do
that? Because these are the very
people for whom He came. The well
don’t need a physician… the sick do!
The righteous don’t need salvation… sinners do! “I came not to call the righteous, but
sinners” (Matt. 9:13).
And He came, not to call
sinners to follow Him at a safe distance… not to take their rightful
place, licking the dust at His feet… not to sit at their own table down
in the servants’ quarters, far removed from the presence and consciousness of
the Master and His guests. He came that
they might be the guests… He came
to cleanse, heal, and restore sinners to the Holy Communion of His
Table, where He is present, beholding them in love, continually
bespeaking them righteous, bestowing His gifts, making sinners whole.
Well, notice once again where
the Pharisees are in proximity to Jesus.
Not with Him at the Table, but standing apart in judgment
and condemnation. Jesus is looking at them,
but they will not meet His gaze, except, perhaps, in defiance. They will not be included in this
company of sinners. They have their
own system of righteousness. Ritual
washings. Sabbath regulations. Meticulous attention to every legal detail. The hedge about the Law. The traditions of men. Their own works, which are the envy of others. And the shunning of people like… well, like Matthew. And the others assembled at his home.
But that’s not righteousness,
dear Pharisees. You’ve missed it. You are willfully blind. Tax collectors and sinners see what
you don’t… and won’t…. see. Jesus
is our righteousness. Jesus
alone. To be righteous, therefore, is to
be with Jesus. And in Jesus. To hear Him. To follow Him. To eat with Him. To live in Him. His life. His righteousness. His salvation. There is no other way.
And if you’d go an learn what this
means, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice” (v. 13), you might just get
it. Your own sacrifices… your
works, your keeping of the Law… earn you nothing before God. But mercy does. His, for you, that is. His, that gathers sinners around His
Table. His, that looks deep into
the very soul of the sinner, in compassion, and calls to the sinner, “Follow me.”
So that the sinner rises, and does just that. And then, likewise, has mercy on his
neighbor.
Though, Jesus doesn’t just have
mercy. Jesus is mercy. And, as a matter of fact, Jesus is the
Sacrifice. The cross. His blood.
His death. Making atonement for
the real sins of real sinners.
For Matthew. For his beleaguered
colleagues and castaway companions. For
Pharisees. For you, beloved. He died for you. He is risen and lives for you. He looks upon you. He loves you. And he calls to you: “Follow me.”
Then, of course, to follow Him does
entail making sacrifices. Sacrifices for
Jesus. Sacrifices for others. These don’t save you, but they come because
you are saved. We learned about
that a couple weeks ago, too. The cost
of discipleship, the disciple being one who follows Jesus. Jesus goes the way of the suffering and
the cross, and that means those who follow Him go the way of
suffering and the cross. There will
be scorn, rejection, persecution to bear.
There will be hardships and afflictions, and there is no way around
them. There is no way around the
cross and death. Only through. But with Jesus. With Jesus, who goes before, and
blazes the trail, and is, Himself the Way.
With Jesus, who leads into the tomb, and out the
other side… to life and resurrection and joy.
Matthew rose and followed
Jesus. And that means to the cross. It’s not only that he left everything. He died for the Savior, who died
for him. We don’t know the details
(there are several traditions), but he surely died a martyr’s death, as did all
the Apostles, save St. John, who was a martyr in life. In any case, Matthew suffered. He suffered for following Jesus. But look what it brought us, this
suffering. It was a sacrifice of mercy
that brought us the Gospel that bears Matthew’s name. It brought us… in fact, brings us… the
crucified and living Lord Jesus Christ.
So that we rise, and follow Him.
To be with Him. And in Him. To hear Him.
To eat with Him. To live in Him.
Here we are, and it’s just another
Sunday afternoon at Church. And we look
up, and here He is, the Lord Jesus.
He is looking upon us. And we
don’t even try to cover over our conscience, hide our sin from His gaze. We confess our sins. He sees them anyway. And it is good and right to confess that we
are sinners. Because it is for just
such that He came. It is just
such whom He calls. It is just
such whom He raises, and heals, and forgives. And it is for just such that He sets a
Table, that He might receive them, and eat with them. Don’t stand apart. Don’t hold on to any righteousness of your
own (filthy rags, anyway). As a matter
of fact, don’t hold on to anything that keeps you from Him. Not even your job, or your money. Give it up.
Leave it all behind. Just be
with Him. Where He is. Be loved by Him. Receive from Him. Recline at Table and feast with Him. Hear the Words He says to you today… (to
you!): “Follow me.” By those
Words, you’ll do just that. In the Name
of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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