St. Matthew – The Gift of God

Fr. Scott Haynes

A Meditation for the Feast of St. Matthew

September 21

From the earliest centuries, the Church sought to express the mystery of the Gospels through symbols. In the dim light of the Catacombs and on the walls of Rome’s most ancient churches, the Four Evangelists appear not only as writers but as living emblems of their message. St. Jerome, reflecting on Ezekiel’s vision of four living creatures, assigned each Evangelist a particular figure: to Matthew, the cherub or winged human face; to Mark, the lion; to Luke, the ox; to John, the eagle.

These images are not mere ornaments. They reveal something of the heart of each Gospel. Matthew receives the cherub because his Gospel begins with a genealogy, tracing the Lord’s human descent from Abraham and David. Mark is the lion, whose Gospel opens with the roar of “one crying in the wilderness.” Luke, who lingers over the priesthood and the temple, is aptly signified by the ox, the ancient emblem of sacrifice. And John, who soars to the heights of Christ’s divinity, is the eagle, capable of gazing into the sun without flinching.

On the feast of St. Matthew, we hear again the meaning of his name: “Gift of God.” Before he became an Apostle and Evangelist, Matthew was a publican—a collector of taxes for the Roman authorities, often despised for dishonesty or collaboration. Yet the Lord looked beyond his profession and his reputation. Passing by the custom house, Jesus spoke only two words: “Follow Me.” The Gospel records Matthew’s response with striking brevity: “And he rose up and followed Him” (Matthew 9:9).

That moment is the hinge of Matthew’s life. In an instant, he left behind coins, account books, and the security of a lucrative trade. He stepped away from a world entangled with extortion and compromise, setting his face toward the unknown road of discipleship. Pope Benedict XVI notes that Matthew’s immediate obedience shows that “following Christ means leaving behind, sometimes at great cost, everything that is incompatible with true discipleship and embarking upon a new life.”¹

The scandal of Christ’s call did not end with Matthew. When Jesus sat at table with tax collectors and sinners, religious leaders murmured in disapproval. The Lord’s reply still resounds: “They that are in health need not a physician, but they that are ill. … I came not to call the just, but sinners” (Matthew 9:12–13). This is the heart of the Gospel Matthew would one day proclaim—the mercy of God offered to every soul, even those whom society casts aside.

Matthew’s conversion invites us to ponder what we ourselves must leave behind in order to be free for Christ. As Pope Benedict observes, the call of the Apostle reminds us that “attachment to things that are incompatible with following Jesus—like dishonestly acquired wealth—is not admissible.”² The Lord does not simply invite us to add Him to an otherwise unchanged life; He bids us to make room for grace by surrendering what hinders love.

The cherub assigned to Matthew speaks quietly of this mystery. It is the emblem of a humanity made new, illumined by the presence of God. In Matthew’s Gospel we find not only the Sermon on the Mount and the parables of the Kingdom, but also a living witness that holiness is possible for anyone willing to rise from the custom house of sin and walk after the Master.

Today, as we honor St. Matthew, let us hear again the invitation addressed to him and to us: Follow Me. May his ready response teach us the joy of renouncing all that binds us, so that we may run with freedom toward the One who calls.

Notes

¹ Benedict XVI, General Audience, August 30, 2006.

² Ibid.