Curate’s sermon, St Matthew’s Day: Matthew 9.9-13

British Visa application forms include an interesting section on the applicant’s past activities. The main question is along the lines of, ‘Have you ever been involved in any of the following?’ and then it goes on to list things like genocide, terrorism, crimes against humanity and participation in attempts to topple a government. At the bottom of the list, it simply says, ‘If you have answered “yes” to any of the above, please elaborate below’. Having filled out many of these forms, I have always been curious whether any of those ‘yeses’ can even be adequately explained. Surely participation in genocide is not something that ever can be excused or atoned.
I genuinely don’t know whether the Home Office has ever granted visas to people who had answered ‘yes’ to any of these questions, and in any case, for the Home Office it is probably the case of national security rather than moral judgement, but I am wondering where I, as a human and a Christian, stand on forgiving a terrorist. And is there a sin that is too great to receive mercy? After all, Christian ministry is present in the strictest prisons and does offer mercy on behalf of Christ to the most lost and troubled of souls. Forgiveness is not a simple thing but Christianity seems to offer something the secular world would not: a chance for a new life, both in this world and the next.
The story of Matthew’s calling shows us that when the establishment rejects the possibility of change and transformation in those with a questionable past, Jesus affirms it.
As a tax collector, Matthew was an instrument of an oppressive regime, understandably hated by those who were oppressed. He chose to collaborate with the aggressor against his own people and for his own benefit. We are not told anything about ‘the sinners’ who feature in the same passage but, however great or small their sin was, it was enough for them to be rejected by the society and treated as outcasts. The Pharisees washed their hands off both sinners and tax collectors, which I think we might be able to relate to. We all want to live in a happy community where people are lovely and kind and nobody is causing trouble. We may want to help someone who is in trouble but often there is not much we can do if they don’t want to be helped, so if the sinners insist on sinning and tax collectors make your life very difficult and there is nothing you can do about it, the instinct to isolate yourself from them is understandable.
One problem this causes is that Matthew in his tax collector’s booth, Rahab, Delilah, Saul, Peter or Mary Magdalene become just ‘them’ ‘out there’ – those sinners that we don’t deal with. We continue to do this today and I think currently the most common groups that on each side of the divide are treated as ‘them out there that we don’t like’ are the hard right conservatives and the far left liberals, a division that is creeping into what used to be central. It is easier to be angry at a distant group than at a neighbour we know and see regularly, even if we disagree with their views. Distance and isolation is what allows us to treat those we disagree with, whether it is on their views, their choices or ways of life, as an abstract entity. Those we know nothing about but continue to judge can be easily dehumanised. This is something that has been proposed as a possible cause of some horrific responses to activist Charlie Kirk’s murder in Utah last week. There are reports of people celebrating and rejoicing in his death. I have to confess I had never heard of him until the assassination and since then have only superficially learned about his views. My understanding is that being a representative of a particular political wing, he was a divisive figure. As a Christian, he had views that I respect but disagree with, but I think for many with opposing political views he is just one of ‘them’, so for many his death is not a tragedy because ‘they’ are wrong and don’t deserve mercy. And people on both sides of the divide are guilty of similar shocking attitudes, because they no longer see the other side as fellow humans. The less we communicate with those we disagree with, the less we are going to acknowledge their humanity, the more we are likely to demonise them and the less likely to remember that we are not in fact that different. After all, when it comes to political views, people at either end of the spectrum want a happy and secure life, stable jobs, good healthcare and access to education for their children. We differ on how we think this can be achieved but this is precisely why we should be talking to each other.
Contact, fellowship and simple conversation are the things that can break the barrier. I believe this is what Jesus is doing in the Gospel passage. The first thing he does after calling Matthew is having a meal with him and other tax collectors and sinners. A shared meal is a theme that runs through the Bible to signify welcome, hospitality, kindness and mutual interest. It is more about a personal connection than it is about food. By sharing in a meal Jesus takes an interest in individual lives and stories of those whom the Pharisees chose to group into the abstract ‘them’ and never approach.
Moreover, it seems that he gives Matthew a new name when he calls him. When Mark and Luke describe the same episode, they call the man Levi, suggesting that his name likely changed from Levi to Matthew at some point after his encounter with Jesus. A change of name is another common theme in the Bible that signifies a new task or a role given by the Lord. This is how Abram becomes Abraham, Sarai – Sarah, Jacob – Israel, Saul – Paul and so on. Matthew’s old name, Levi, means ‘attached’ and is also linked to the sons of the original Levi, the Levitical priests, that belong in the old world of the law. His new name is from the world of grace and mercy that Christ brings; it derives from the Hebrew מַתִּתְיָהוּ and means ‘gift of God’. Matthew, who, without hesitation, agrees to follow Jesus and leave his presumably fairly comfortable lifestyle behind, is indeed a gift to Jesus’ ministry. He who wrote one of the Gospel books is a gift from God to all of us who still continue to read it and encounter Jesus Christ through this text. But receiving his new name he also receives its meaning – he receives the gift of God, which is the chance to start afresh, to no longer be attached and to leave behind the old ways and to be completely and fully accepted into a new life, through Christ’s mercy. Jesus makes it possible by calling Matthew’s name and meeting him face-to-face. I believe he does the same with everyone else, but as we accept his mercy freely we should expect to live it out in our daily lives.
I believe that God’s unending mercy for us must translate into our kindness to others. If Christ does not judge or push anyone away so we shouldn’t either. If he reaches out to the sinners and the oppressors, even to those who hate him, so we must seek to see and to hear those from whom we separate ourselves. Understanding will be born out of a simple conversation. Unity will be possible when we do not deny each other our humanity. It seems that in the world where rejoicing over death is an option, we truly must go and learn what it means to ‘desire mercy, not sacrifice’. And once we have done this, we must go and beg for more mercy. Amen.