And as Jesus passed forth from thence, He saw a man named
Matthew sitting at the receipt of custom; and He said unto
him, Follow me. And he arose and followed Him. And it came to
pass, as Jesus sat at meat in the house, behold, many publicans
and sinners came and sat down with Him and His disciples. And
when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto His disciples, Why
eateth your Master with publicans and sinners? But when Jesus
heard that, He said unto them, They that be whole need not a
physician, but they that are sick. But go ye and learn what that
meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice; for I am not come
to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.--_Matt. 9,
9-13._
The text just heard contains much of interest and importance--first,
for the history which it gives, and secondly, for the Gospel which
it preaches. We shall consider both for our encouragement and
instruction.
It was in Capernaum, the capital of Galilee, on the borders of Lake
Tiberias. Jesus was walking by the seaside when He saw a man named
Matthew sitting at the receipt of customs, collecting the duties,
or taxes, on goods landed from the vessels. To all human appearance
this collector of customs, or publican, as they were called, was
a very unlikely person to become a convert, much less an apostle.
Publicans, or taxgatherers, in those days were held in very ill
repute. One reason for this was that they were in the employ of the
Roman Government, and no patriotic, loyal-hearted Jew would permit
himself to be employed by these despised and oppressive Gentiles.
Another reason was that those who were thus employed generally
managed to make it profitable for themselves. By practicing
fraud and distortion upon their own countrymen, overcharging and
collecting more than was due, they succeeded in accumulating means,
and many, like Zaccheus, a large fortune. There is nothing to show
that Matthew was guilty of such extortion and fraud, but he was by
office and occupation connected with this odious and unprincipled
set of men; nor is it necessary for us to believe that he was
altogether free from the taint that attached to them. And yet, out
of the ranks of these base and detested publicans, Jesus did not
disdain to take at least one of those twelve men whom He chose to
be the heralds of His Gospel, the great leaders of His kingdom to
a perishing world. Good men, let us learn from this, often come
from despised and unworthy classes. Outward circumstances do not
always prove as unfavorable nor as adverse to piety as we are apt to
imagine. There is often a wide contrast between outward appearances
and inward realities. It may be that Matthew inwardly was very
much disposed to follow Jesus when addressed by Him. It is not for
us to discern what is going on in the inner man. We may hear the
blasphemer uttering a vile oath and pass him by as one on the verge
of perdition, while the heart of the poor wretch at the very moment
may be bursting with anguish and filled with self-reproach, and one
word of kindness might melt him into contrition and love. We see
another amid the wild whirl of earthly dissipation and pleasure, and
may suppose that it would be casting pearls before swine to waste
a word on religious topics with him, while he may be aching with
a sense of the emptiness of the world, and a single expression of
Christian kindness may draw from him a confession of the vanity of
all his pleasures, and the inquiry, Who will show me any permanent
and real good? Never let us judge of the hopelessness of man's
salvation by the mere outward appearance.
No den of infamy is so vile, no hall of skepticism, or haunt
of worldliness is so impenetrable, no prison cell so deep or
polluted, but that Jesus can gather thence gems that shall shine
in His crown. Who was ever a more devoted follower of Christ than
Mary Magdalene?--and yet she once had seven devils. Who was more
voluptuous, depraved, and infamous in his course as a young man
than Augustine, who became the great bishop of Hippo and one of
the most illustrious doctors of the Church? And what did Jesus see
in any of us to lead Him to visit us with His salvation? Was there
any such native excellence in your character, or such a purity in
your conduct, when out of Christ, that God was attracted thereby
and stooped from heaven to save you, because it was a pity that
so much worth and goodness should be lost forever? Oh, no, not for
our merits, but of His own infinite mercy does He save us, and if
we feel aright, we shall never think that we deserved to be saved,
while the vile sinner deserved to be damned, but that all of us are
sinners worthy of God's wrath and curse, and that none have reason
for boasting. Viewed in that light, we shall not wonder that Christ
chose an apostle from that most ill-favored class of men known in
Palestine at the time.
And the call was not unheeded. It is not necessary to assume that
the call came to Matthew as a clap of thunder out of a clear sky.
Matthew, as a dweller in Capernaum, where our Savior was preaching
and performing some of His most noted miracles, and as a man who
daily had to do with people of all classes, could not have been
without some knowledge of what was going on. In all likelihood he
had seen and heard Christ, and so was not wholly without preparation
for what happened when the great Teacher and Wonder-worker came into
his office and said to him, "Follow me." And what was the decision?
Our text informs us: He left all, rose up, and followed Christ.
Promptly, cheerfully, he surrendered his worldly interests, unites
his fortune and his future with the Master. It was not so in every
instance. We know that the same call was extended to others, who at
once propounded something else to be attended to. The one remarked,
"Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father;" another, "Lord,
I will follow Thee, but let me first go bid them farewell which
are at home at my house," and still another, it says, "went away
sorrowing," because he was not willing to separate himself from his
great possessions. It is so to this very day and hour.
To every one that hears the Gospel the word is: "Follow Me." There
are those who heed it like Matthew. Then others who hear the same
call make a thousand excuses, but never reach the point of honest
decision. Obedience, as it is the first virtue of a child, in a
soldier, or a servant, so it is the first virtue in a Christian.
When you hear the blessed Savior's voice, asking you to take up
the obligations of a Christian faith and life, then respond like
Matthew, instantly, promptly.
And not only was it prompt and ready obedience, it was steadfast,
persevering. It was not a spirit of momentary enthusiasm that
presently died away. Never again did he return to his old
profession. With unfaltering devotion did he cling to our Lord,
and finally laid down his life in His cause. There are those who,
when they hear the merciful call of the Savior, are prompt enough
sometimes to follow. They are greatly captivated with the Christian
profession. They like the distinction it gives them, the new
attitude and surroundings in which they are placed, the gaining of
new friends, sympathies and credit with which it invests them. But
when it comes to the serious side,--and Christian discipleship has
a serious side,--it does not mean only wearing a bright uniform and
carrying a flag, but standing on guard, enduring hardships as a good
soldier of Christ. Then the cross becomes too heavy for them, and by
and by they are offended, their zeal expires, and their once flaming
devotion dies. Matthew was not of that class; his decision was as
honest, thorough, and enduring as it was prompt, and in this he is
an example for us.
Nor was this all. Not only did Matthew follow the Savior, but the
subsequent verse informs us that he made a great feast for the
Master. We can easily see the motives of the man in making this
feast. "My Lord has had mercy on me," he would say, "and I wish to
do something to testify my love and gratitude to Him. I will make an
entertainment in His honor, and I will invite my old friends among
the publicans to it, for it may be that His words of power may reach
their hearts as they did mine, and turn them from their sins." That,
my beloved, is one of the strongest evidences of a truly converted
soul--anxiety and concern for the soul of others. A person that
has found the Savior is anxious that others should find Him, too.
Christianity is not like gold, which every one wishes to secrete for
his own use, but it is like a full fountain--it runs over; like the
sun--it must shine forth. And so we behold the Savior now seated in
the midst of a large company of publicans and sinners.
But have you, my dear hearers, ever known of a noble and holy work,
no matter what it is, that did not meet with some criticism? Some
carping voice is bound to be always heard, and so here. That Jesus
was found in such company, and agreed to be a guest with such
society, was a scandal in the eyes of the ceremonial, self-righteous
Jews, and "He it was who claimed to be the long-expected Messiah."
It was conclusive evidence to them that He was a sheer impostor,
a glutton and wine-bibber, equally as bad as those whom He met on
such familiar terms. Nor were they slow in making known their
conclusions. They uttered their malignant feelings, not to Jesus
Himself, but to His disciples. When Jesus learned their cavils,
it does not appear that He was ruffled in the least. He knew His
mission, for what purpose He had come into this world, and so with
all firmness we hear Him setting forth His association with these
ill-reputed people as in accord not only with the best principles
of common sense, but with the whole spirit and intent of His
Messiahship. "But when Jesus heard that, He said unto them, They
that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." Sin
is a sickness, a disease, and these publicans and sinners were
very deeply under the power of this disease. Now, where should a
physician be but with the sick and the dying? Is a doctor to be
blamed for entering a hospital full of suffering invalids? Is it not
rather a blessed demonstration of His fidelity to his profession
to go to such ailing people? Well, then, what right had these
self-constituted saints and judges to find fault? They claimed to be
good and holy people. They kept the Law. They were _whole_. They had
no need of a physician to make them better,--so they thought. Why,
then, was the great Healer of souls to confine Himself to them? Thus
upon their own principles and common sense, Christ amply justified
His conduct.
There is a double lesson to be drawn from our text. First, if
you have always maintained a good moral character, through the
restraints of a religious education and of God's grace, be thankful
for it; it is, indeed, a great mercy to have been kept from gross
sins, and it will be a great help to you in a life of godliness. But
be careful that you do not rest salvation upon it, make a Savior
of your own goodness, and so refuse Christ, without whom you will
be damned as surely as the vilest transgressor. Beware that your
outward decency of character does not puff you up and make you think
that such as you can never be lost. There is no other name but that
of Christ whereby you can be saved, and you must come to Him weary
and heavy-laden, just as the vilest sinner does, if you would find
rest to your soul.
On the other hand, if there be one present who has fallen into
gross transgression, so that it seems almost too much for him to
hope to be forgiven, let him hear the words of Jesus, "I came not
to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance," and let him be
encouraged. Is there any wound this great Physician cannot heal? Is
there any sin the grace of Jesus cannot pardon, or His blood wash
away? Doubt not His infinite compassion, doubt not His almighty
power. Lay your soul in His hands. Though your sins be as scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson,
they shall be as wool. Oh! that, like Matthew of old, we might yield
ourselves to His gracious summons, go down to our houses, humble,
obedient believers in Him who came into this world to call sinners
to repentance. Amen.