First Sunday after Trinity
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Readings: Romans 4: 13-end and Matthew 9: 9-13 and 18-26
The gospel readings for the next weeks – really right through the summer – are from St. Matthew’s gospel. We start today at chapter 9, and read through to chapter 26 by the end of October. And today we start, appropriately enough, with the call of Matthew. It is best not to assume that this Matthew was solely responsible for the gospel that bears his name. It is more likely that the gospel grew out of a school of scholars, maybe converted rabbis, who liked to give authenticity to their work by claiming that one of the apostles was author. That’s not to say that Matthew had no hand in it; the writers were probably using his reminiscences and recollections. As to the man himself – nothing further is known of Matthew’s life. Later references say he was martyred in either Ethiopia or Persia, and his relics travelled around Europe. His head has been claimed by four different churches in France.
St. Matthew’s gospel, more than any of the others, is the link between the Old Testament and the New; between the Old Israel and the new worldwide Church. The motivation of the writers was to demonstrate that Jesus was the Messiah, and this is done by showing how Jesus, in his life and ministry, fulfilled the Old Testament scriptures. And Matthew’s speciality lies in relating the gospel to the Jewish Law, with his stress on Christianity as the ‘New Law.’
Matthew was a Jewish writer writing for Jews. Of course, the early evangelizing in the Church was amongst Jews. Jesus himself preached in the synagogues, and one of the healing miracles related in today’s passage concerns the daughter of the leader of a synagogue.
Matthew’s gospel was always considered to be the ‘First Gospel.’ Probably not the first to be written, but certainly the first in importance. For many centuries other gospels filled in on Sundays only where Matthew’s picture was felt to be incomplete. Matthew doesn’t think in terms of ideas or doctrines. To him the real question is “Who will inherit the kingdom?” And the answer is clear – “Those who recognise Jesus as Messiah” – in other words, members of the Church.
From much of the four gospels we get a rather negative view of the Jewish law. But there were positive elements to it. The Jewish faith was always thoughtful, always searching for the truth about God – as it still is today. But in the time of Jesus the Law was becoming too highly structured and inflexible for its own development and good. It was becoming difficult for even the most meticulous Jew to observe all the regulations in the Torah – 613 of them. Perhaps it was rather like the standardsq and regulations imposed during our membership of the European Parliament, ‘Brussels’ seemingly frequently adding rules about the size of bananas or which measurements should be used in daily life. However, in the Torah many of the laws were to do with how one lived one’s life. They had to be graded into ‘light’ and ‘heavy’ regulations: otherwise life would have become impossible.
The strict adherents of the law, as represented by the Pharisees, would have had something to say about each of the three incidents in the gospel. Matthew’s intention is to show that Jesus is much greater than the Jewish religion, which has had its day. Its followers must see that in Jesus is the true fulfilment of the law as he demonstrates God’s new life-giving power.
But the New Testament writers – especially Paul – came to see that the keeping of the Law, with all its 613 regulations, did not amount to very much in religious terms if there was no devout faith. Today it is quite possible to be a law-abiding citizen, but that doesn’t make you a Christian. And, on the other hand, if you say you have faith and a fervent belief in Jesus Christ, but ignore the Law, then you probably have a very distorted view of what living the Christian life entails.
The passage from Romans is complex and closely-argued. Paul is rejoicing in God’s promise to Abraham – that he would have descendants through whom all the families of the earth would be blessed. The promise God made to Abraham did not come because Abraham piled-up merit by doing the works of the law. Rather, it was because of the faith Abraham showed towards God. The promise was made on the grounds of faith, in order that it might be a matter of sheer grace. It was this grace that came to Matthew when Jesus called him.
Matthew the tax-collector, known as Levi in some of the other gospels, belonged to a despised and mistrusted profession. His tax booth may have been near the beach, to handle business connected with ships coming to Galilee from the other side of the lake. By nature of their trade, tax-collectors would have been in contact with the Romans and other gentiles. In doing just that they broke some of the Jewish regulations about mixing with outsiders, and so they became known as sinners. Then they had the reputation of being unscrupulous. And since they were, in effect, working for the Roman authorities they had condemned themselves to being a despised minority, living on the edges of Jewish religious life.
Jesus ignores all that hatred and prejudice by not only calling Matthew to faith, but also by going to his house and sharing a meal with others from Matthew’s profession. Jesus reminds the Pharisees, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.”
Notice that Jesus doesn’t deny that the tax-collectors are in need of some healing, but he can’t help them by setting himself apart from them, but by going to them in outreaching fellowship. Perhaps there is a message here about the treatment of ex-offenders in our own day. No-one is saying that people released from prison shouldn’t be managed carefully, but we would do well to remember Jesus’ words “I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners.”
The second instance of Jesus giving new life is with the woman suffering from haemorrhages. She certainly would have been an outcast in Jewish society, as she was ‘unclean’, and anything or anyone she touched would also be regarded as ‘unclean.’ But Jesus is not defiled by her impurity; rather he cures her of her illness. The suffering woman thinks to herself “If only I touch his cloak, I will be made well.” That might sound to us like something approaching superstition, but Jesus recognizes some faith there; faith strong enough to override the requirements of the law; and that faith he rewards.
Thank goodness that today we have overcome the stigma attached to some diseases and conditions which have caused sufferers to be shunned and excluded. Yet you don’t have to look too far to see how some people are treated in our own society, such the homeless, the addicted, those with some mental health issues, often given a wide berth. But Jesus, even though he was on his way to the dying girl’s bedside finds time to give new life to the woman with the bleeding.
And so Jesus arrives at the house of the synagogue ruler. Of course we see a wonderful miracle here, but Matthew sees something more. Here we have a Jewish leader appealing to Jesus for help. It’s as if the Jewish faith alone cannot help the little girl, but with Jesus there is new life and new hope for those who have faith, for those not afraid to lay aside their traditions and to acknowledge the Messiah in their midst.
In these three incidents, Jesus is able to do something great for those who show they have faith, imperfect though that may be. Something stirs in Matthew, and he responds to Jesus’ call ‘follow me’. Soon the despised and disreputable tax-collectors are enjoying much-needed fellowship with Jesus. The woman with the haemorrhages thinks “If only…” and acts on it, and her courage is rewarded. The synagogue leader disregards the fact that his daughter is dead, and comes to Jesus, pleading “Lay your hand on her, and she will live.”
May our faith not become so passive, inflexible, unexpectant or respectable – as the old Jewish faith was – that we stop looking for opportunities to show Christ’s love to those in need around us. May we never stop expecting God to act in using the faith we have, or the faith that others may be secretly harbouring or wanting – waiting for a hand of fellowship to be outstretched to them.