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Ancient Songs Sung Anew, cleansing, conversion, Divine Light, follow me, Jesus, light, Matthew, mercy, profit, psalm 19, sacrifice, sinners, St. Matthew, tax collector, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, truth, wisdom
We know only two things about St. Matthew whose feast we celebrate today. First, we know him as a tax collector and secondly that he responded to the call of Jesus who approached him with the command: “Follow me,” and later was credited with the Gospel that bears his name. In the time of Jesus, tax collectors were not beloved members of society. It seems that, once again, Jesus was trying to make an important point by calling Matthew to be a disciple – a call that Matthew was unlikely to accept in the unquestioning way that he did. He was making some money, after all, and his job was likely secure. But Matthew got up from his customs post and seems to have never questioned the motives of Jesus or his own response. Clearly, others questioned however! “Why does the teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” they boldly said – not thinking of any transgressions they themselves might have committed. Jesus was clear in his response to these queries. “I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”
Something in Matthew knew what Jesus was about and prompted him to say yes to the invitation. I found verses in Psalm 19, later than the lectionary verses from today and in a different translation, whose monetary metaphor seems in accord with the desire – known or unknown – of Matthew’s heart at the moment he was called to be a disciple. See what you think.
Pure light, pure truth, pure justice, God, they’re like a cleansing wind that passes through our souls, assessing all. Your presence is more valuable to us than gold, far sweeter to the tongue than honey in the comb. For it is you and you alone who teaches us, O great instructor of the soul, and in this school of wisdom, you’re the profit, true, and wisdom, the reward. (Ancient Songs Sung Anew, p.45)
May our desire for conversion deepen daily and our recognition of that to which we are called become clearer in each encounter with the divine light stirring in our hearts.
As we begin another week of reflection we are called by the Scriptures to be alert in two areas, both having to do with outer manifestation but in reality, perhaps, dealing with our inner dispositions.
There is so much to ponder in Luke’s version of the call of the first disciples. (LK 5:1-11) One might first think of Jesus as rather presumptuous. There were two boats by the lake whose owners were washing their nets after a night of fishing when Jesus steps into the one belonging to Simon and asks him to put out a bit from shore – a better vantage point from which to teach the crowds that were pressing in on him. Simon says nothing about being tired or disappointed that they hadn’t caught anything; he just does what Jesus asks. The encounter gets more challenging, however, when Jesus finishes his teaching and says to Simon, “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” At that Simon has to speak (“We’ve worked hard all night and have caught nothing.”), but it seems that his heart is already softened to Jesus. (“…but at your command I will lower the nets.”) We all know the end of the story: so great a catch of fish that the nets are tearing and Simon’s regret that he had even hesitated before acquiescing to the request of Jesus. (“Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”)
The name Jeanne Jugan did not strike a chord of recognition in me, nor did the title Mother Marie of the Cross (Mere Marie de la Croix). I have, however, known since early adulthood of the work of The Little Sisters of the Poor, who had an established house not more than a few miles from my own Motherhouse outside of Albany, New York where I lived. We speak sometimes of “the hidden life” of Jesus – the years during his youth and young adulthood about which we have little or no information. It seems that St. Jeanne, as well as the Sisters who have come after her, lived most of her life in that manner while doing extraordinary work for the elderly poor. (see Saint of the Day at 
From the prophet Elijah to Jesus, today’s readings speak of the importance of eating to keep up our strength for living – both physically and spiritually. We find Elijah journeying into the desert (1 KGS 19:4-8) where, in a moment of desperation, he lies down under a tree and asks God to let him die. Instead, an angel wakes him and orders him – twice – to eat, having provided the food that will keep him alive and strong on his trek through the desert (a forty-day trip) to Horeb, the mountain of God.
Sometimes it seems hard to believe that we are strong enough to withstand the difficulties that plague us. I’m thinking this morning of the raging fires in California as well as all the people I know who are suffering from trauma or illness from which there seems to be no way out. At these times we might be challenged to go on by sayings like “Cast your cares upon the Lord for he cares for you.” Once in awhile, however, when everything seems so dire, it feels as if God is on vacation, and we wonder if we will survive.
At the retreat center where I am privileged to live, we are in the midst of our “high season.” Every weekend we welcome people of diverse beliefs and religious traditions who come seeking to deepen the spiritual content of their lives. Thus, the simple but appropriate name of this place: The Spiritual Center. It is not only those who come as participants to the programs we offer who are changed in some way or newly committed to spiritual practice. The presenters and we ourselves know the value of what is transacted here, most often in the brief space of a weekend.
Today, as yesterday, the theme seems to be about the danger of making judgments without sufficient evidence. In the gospel (MT 13:54-58) Jesus is teaching in his hometown synagogue and people are questioning how he could possibly sound so wise given the fact that his father, Joseph, was a lowly carpenter and the rest of his family had no “pedigree” either. The conclusion was that “they took offense at him.” Nothing about what he said, but just whether he had a right to say it, given the lowliness of his station in life!
Interestingly, for no apparent reason yesterday, a rhyming ditty from my childhood came wafting up from my past. “Make new friends but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold.” I heard it and smiled and then it was gone. I think it was one of the learnings of Girl Scout meetings. It came back to me this morning as I read the parable of the Kingdom of heaven being compared first to a net cast into the sea that collects every kind of fish. Upon return to shore, the fishermen separate out what is good and throw away what is bad.
I had a bit of an epiphany this morning. (Is that possible, or is an epiphany always spectacular?) I was reading the gospel from today’s lectionary – very brief and so familiar – which read: