Jesus had a unique way of choosing his disciples. There were no interviews, no ‘vetting” to be sure of the character of the person being considered. Jesus just approached a person, said “Follow me!” and it was up to the person called to get up from whatever s/he was doing and go. Most, it seems, were fishermen – honest workers with simple lives. One wonders about Matthew, the tax collector. Was he maybe chosen as a test for the rest of the band of followers or for the larger population that knew him as “a sinner,” because of his profession, a challenge of magnanimity, perhaps?
Clearly, Jesus had a point in mind when he encountered Matthew. When people grumbled and looked askance at Matthew in the company of Jesus, they were likely surprised at the reason Jesus gave for his choice. “Those who are well do not need a physician,” he said, “but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”
This should be a comfort to all of us who are not yet perfect. Jesus was clearly able to see the inner light in Matthew rather than only what was considered necessary for his work. The proof that he was ready to step up to a deeper calling can be seen in his willingness and ability to leave the life he was living to respond to the light he saw in Jesus that was reflected somehow in his own person. A good lesson for us when we want to judge someone whose inner light is not clearly visible to us in our day-to-day life.
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.”
Often when I open the USCCB website where I find the lectionary readings for the day there is a line that jumps out from the page and calls for my attention. Today I didn’t have to look too deeply as it was already italicized. The sentence from chapter 12 of Matthew’s gospel has God saying, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” I thought immediately of Pope Francis and the focus early in his pontificate which has continued unabated. He even wrote a more than one book about mercy so it’s very easy to quote him on the subject. Here is something from his homily in 2013 on Divine Mercy Sunday that reminds us of the fact that even the closest friends of Jesus needed mercy for their failings – and they got it!
Today’s lectionary includes verses from Psalm 50 in which the psalmist expresses God’s desire for us to “step up” in our response to life, suggesting that our sacrificial offerings (bulls and goats – or for us checks and cash) are not enough. God says, “Why do you recite my statutes and profess my covenant with your mouth though you hate discipline and cast my words behind you?”
Sometimes I think we can get carried away doing penance during Lent. I must admit that for many years I refused to talk about the need for repentance because I thought life held enough challenge and people I knew needed nothing more to feed their poor self-esteem. I have now come, I hope, to a healthier place where admission of imperfection lives in concert with a willingness to reform. This is the message that stands out to me in the lectionary readings for today, clarifying God’s desire for us and urging us on from the very first words.
I remember the day, early in his papacy, that Pope Francis said, “I am a sinner” in public. The quote, as we say now, “went viral.” It’s rare to have a public figure admit during an interview or a widely attended speech that s/he has imperfections. We all know that none of us is perfect but admitting it to the world – especially using the word sin to describe our actions – is not a common practice. At first I was dismayed about his admission because I think that religious people tend to focus more on sin than on giftedness and good deeds. I grabbed onto Barbra Streisand’s line that “there are no mistakes, just lessons to be learned” and used it to talk about sin from that perspective. I still think we either overplay our imperfections sometimes or try to hide them by prevaricating (i.e. “skirting around the truth or delaying giving an answer, especially to avoid telling the whole truth”) but being able to follow the Pope’s example can be very freeing. If we are honest enough to offer our true selves to others we may find that we are accepted in spite of ourselves because nobody else is perfect either!
In the “good old days” when I was young and eager – especially in the novitiate, but also in the convent at my first teaching assignment where I lived in a group of 21 Sisters – life was very structured and predictable. The “horarium” (schedule) of the days was built around times of prayer, teaching school, meals and community sharing time – known in the novitiate at least as “recreation,” a.k.a. the hour after supper when we relaxed and talked to one another while knitting or listening to music or some such simple activity before preparing schoolwork for the next day. Saturdays were set aside for cleaning and other charges (read: household tasks) or meetings and the occasional planning time for community celebration days.