Welcoming Matthew

 

In 1977, the television mini-series “Jesus of Nazareth”, directed by Franco Zeffirelli was aired over a two-week period.  It is one of my all-time favorites for one scene that brought me to tears.  Jesus was invited to the house of Levi (Matthew) to dine.  Simon (not Peter, yet), uncertain about Jesus mingling with tax collectors and sinners, stands just outside the entrance to Matthew’s home listening to Jesus speak to the crowd inside.  Simon, played by James Farentino, weeps at his own failure to grasp Jesus’ mission.  It was a very moving scene.  

Jesus didn’t reserve His love for the likable or the “deserving.”  Where others saw fishermen, He saw leaders.  Where others saw sinners, He saw sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and new friends.  Where others saw a tax collector, Jesus saw Matthew, the person.  Jesus did not ignore or condemn Matthew; He called him.  Defying the cultural norms of His time, Jesus did not hesitate to share a meal with Matthew’s friends—people labeled as sinners, outsiders, and the unwanted.  The religious leaders were outraged, and the self-righteous were scandalized. Yet Jesus reminded them—and reminds us—that His purpose is to meet us in our brokenness: “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”  Mercy is placed above judgment, just as God proclaimed through Isaiah.  So, who are the Matthews in our lives?   Where does suspicion or self-righteousness still keep us from extending God’s love?

Despite our best intentions as children of God, many of us have an unconscious tendency towards selective compassion.  Often, we divide the world into categories: “us” and “them,” “righteous” and “sinner,” “deserving” and “undeserving.”  We might not name these divisions out loud, but our actions often speak for us —through whom we help, whom we welcome, or whom we avoid.  It’s comforting to believe that the table of God’s love is wide, and that all we need to do is come hungry, recognizing that it’s not just the “other” who needs this radical inclusivity—we need it too.

By dining with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus redefined the boundaries of belonging.  He sought out the excluded, the despised, and the forgotten.  His compassion shattered social and cultural barriers, making space for everyone in His circle.  Jesus acted not out of convenience, but with unwavering commitment to loving all people equally.  Jesus believed in people’s potential to become more than they were, and more than people say they are.  To love as God loves means extending grace to those who have hurt us, choosing kindness when we are tempted to judge, and making room for those who challenge our worldview.  Today, Jesus reminds us of the radical inclusivity of God’s love and demonstrates the power of restorative action, which begins when we stop trying to earn righteousness and instead participate in God’s mission to restore human hearts and broken systems in our world.  This path is uncomfortable, often disruptive, yet profoundly liberating for all.

Are we willing to sit at the table with those we deem unworthy of our time, love, or friendship?  Are we prepared to set aside self-preservation to lift the “yoke” of oppression, paving the way for reconciliation and communal flourishing?  Are we open to stretching our hearts, inviting people into a radical relationship of grace and belonging?  Just as Matthew left his tax booth to follow Jesus, so must we leave behind our excuses, comforts, and fears.  In today’s polarized culture, this challenge is perhaps greater—and more necessary—than ever.