Mark 16:9-20 (Matins)
1 Corinthians 4:9-16
Matthew 9:9-13

"Mercy, Not Sacrifice"

"But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy and not sacrifice.'"

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

We celebrate today the Feast of St. Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist. He was among The Twelve:

Now the names of the twelve apostles are these: first, Simon, who
is called Peter, and Andrew his brother; James the son of Zebedee,
and John his brother; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew
the tax collector; James the son of Alphaeus, and Lebbaeus, whose
surname was Thaddaeus; Simon the Cananite, and Judas Iscariot, who
also betrayed Him.   (Mt 10:2-4)
The details concerning Matthew's call, though, seem to refer to someone else:
After these things He went out and saw a tax collector named Levi,
sitting at the tax office. And He said to him, "Follow Me." So he
left all, rose up, and followed Him. Then Levi gave Him a great feast
in his own house. And there were a great number of tax collectors and
others who sat down with them.   (Lu 5:27-29)
There is nothing here to insist that Matthew and Levi are one and the same. In the former passage, he is called Matthew. In the latter his name is given as Levi, suggesting he is a Levite. The two names are linked only by the common phrase "tax collector." Tradition teaches that they are the same man. One face of Levi-Matthew is the Roman tax collector, a Roman official hated by devout Jews. The other face is that of an Apostle and the writer of a Holy Gospel. We are tempted to walk away, satisfied that we understand the moral of the story: here is the conversion of one man to another (St. Paul would say "the old man" and "the new man.") — an evil man who repented, a Roman collaborator who had a change of heart and reconciled with his people. But this two-dimensional cartoon is not open to us. Loose ends remain demanding our attention.

First, we have the uncanny analogy of the man of Israel, the Levite, who charges a tax and the Roman official, the publican, who charges a tax. Like the Romans, the Levites had no "native soil" in Palestine as the other tribes had. Like the Romans, the Levites were rulers after a fashion (whose seat of government was the Temple), and they received a tithe, that is 10%, imposed as a tax on their countryman:

"Behold, I have given the children of Levi all the tithes in Israel as an inheritance
in return for the work which they perform, the work of the tabernacle of meeting." (Num 18:21)
Like the Levite, the Roman tax collector was also a ruler, an official of Caesar's government, who also charged a tax, but not 10%. According to reforms by Augustus Caesar instituted just before the birth of Christ, the Roman tax collector charged 1%.

As far as we can tell, the Roman tax was accepted by the people. Consider the following exchange between the Lord Jesus and the Pharisees, recorded in St. Matthew's Holy Gospel:

But Jesus .... said, .... "Show Me the tax money." So they brought Him a denarius.
And He said to them, "Whose image and inscription is this?" They said to Him, "Caesar's."
And He said to them, "Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and
to God the things that are God's." When they had heard these words, they marveled,
and left Him and went their way.   (Mt 22:18-22)
There is no outcry of protest here. Far from it. The point of the passage is that the tax is Caesar's due, an accepted aspect of life in first-century Judea. Nobody dissents from this point.

As to the Romans being an occupying power, well, yes, they were. But we must understand this in context. Beginning with the troops of Alexander the Great during the 330s B.C., Jewish Palestine had been under Greek or Roman occupation continuously for more than three centuries. Military occupation had been a fact of life for more than fifteen generations. This was no Nazi occupation of France with its Free French and hated Nazi collaborators. Palestine had long since become a Hellenized society thanks to Alexander in which Jesus and the Disciples quoted from the Greek Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint (Werner Jaeger), not the Hebrew-language Torah and Prophets.

A foremost population center of Jews was in Alexandria, Egypt. These men were revered for their learning and cultured life. The tax collector anywhere in the Roman Empire was not seen as some reptilian figure skulking about, being hissed at by the people in the street. Far from it. He was a member of the societas publicanorum (called publicans). This was part of the Equestrian Class, the level in Roman society just below the Senatorial Class. His duties included tax collection as well as administration of various public works projects. And you ought to see the "colosseums" (I should say, "circuses") and temples and amphitheaters in the Holy Land. He was a respected government official holding a place of public honor .... though, without question, despised by Sadducees, Pharisees, and Essenes as an unclean "outsider."

Judea, however, was not the homogeneous, cultic Jewish lifeworld that Hollywood has depicted in its "Biblical epics." Judea was also a classical world of Graeco-Roman culture — with beautiful colonnaded agoras, gymnasiums, large white temples not unlike the Parthenon, and Graeco-Roman sports, such as wrestling and other classical "Olympic" competitions, enjoyed by athletes from Jewish families. Many young Judean competitors, wanting to fit in to this classical world, sought to have their circumcisions reversed. For many citizens of Jerusalem, membership in the Equestrian class was not something to be despised or disdained but rather sought after and coveted. Visit the ruined cities of the Decapolis in Israel and Jordan today, and you will see what I mean. Roman citizenship was prized by first-century Judeans. Did not the Pharisee of Pharisees, the Apostle Paul, articulate his own Roman citizenship with a sense of dignity and aplomb (Acts 16:37; 22:25-28)?

To be sure, Levi the Roman official would not have been accounted as being just or righteous before the Law and the Prophets. But that would have held true for many affluent and publicly respected people in Judea including the Roman client king, Herod the Tetrarch (Lu 3:19).

As we try to bring Levi into focus, we should compare him to the rich man who burned in Hades unable to attain to the Bosom of Abraham (Lu 16:19-31) or to the affluent men who could sooner pass through the eye of a needle than enter the Kingdom of Heaven (Mt 19:24) or, more to the point, to the wealthy young ruler who let discipleship under Jesus slip through his fingers because he could not part with his riches (Mt 7:13). Indeed, this last example, written by Levi himself, might be a tiny fragment of autobiography. We read that the wealthy young official was "sorrowful" .... perhaps so sorrowful that Jesus later returned to him:

And He said to him, "Follow Me." So he left all, rose up, and followed Him.   (Lu 5:28)
By the way, this verb "rose up" is the Greek αν'αστας (anastas) closely linked in the Gospels to resurrection. That is, when Levi arises, he leaves behind the culture of death, into which he would have descended ever more deeply, clinging to social prestige and to the worldly weight of his gold.

When Jesus holds aloft the "tax money" and says, "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and unto God what is God's," the Pharisees and the people marvel. For set before them are two gravely consequential choices: the world or the Kingdom of Heaven. The man Levi, the government official, and the man Matthew, the future Apostle and Evangelist, stand at this crossroads. It is not very different from the crossroads before which the Pharisees also stand .... or many religious people today stand. For we all have been, who still are, two people, having two wills, each struggling with the other to gain the upper hand. And need I say that many religious people lead double lives, secret lives?

It is no stretch to say that this is the story of the Twelve Tribes of Jacob, always facing the same choice: God or the world, faithfulness or apostasy? This is the story of Levi-Matthew and not the tale of a Roman collaborator who in the end returned to his own faithful, God-fearing people.

If we should protest that the first-century tax collector was able to abuse his office charging the people much more than 1%, then we must remember that abuse of office was not unknown in the Temple either. Whether the subject is Levi-Matthew the publican or the Judean or Benjamite Pharisee, the story is one and the same: godliness versus worldliness. We see that both publicans and Pharisees are rulers; both impose their power with troops; both aspire to public honor and respect. Most important, we see that in both cases, indeed, in all cases, that the major point is not "publican vs. Pharisee" but rather the general apostasy of everyone. Jesus brings this major point into sharp focus with the call of Levi-Matthew:

"But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy and not sacrifice.'
For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." (Mt 9:13)
The sinners Jesus mentions here, citing Hosea, Chapter 6, are the apostate Tribes of Israel:
"O Ephraim, what shall I do to you?
O Judah, what shall I do to you?
For your faithfulness is like a morning cloud,
And like the early dew it goes away ....
For I desire mercy and not sacrifice,
And the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings. (Hos 6:4-6)
The Southern Kingdom, signified by the Tribe of Judah, and the Northern Kingdom, signified by Ephraim, are faithless.

Wherein resides their faithlessness? They have lapsed from spiritual worship and communion with YHWH, which was the purpose of the Tabernacle and the First Temple, into mechanical ritual, idolatry, as if animal sacrifices could be a substitute for transformation of the mind and soul.

The word mercy points to being just or righteous as we discussed last Sunday. These are stages in spiritual transformation and cannot be achieved through the physical-mechanical means of sacrifice. Whether the context is the Book of Hosea or the Holy Gospels, the Lord Jesus says that knowledge of God is the desire of the Almighty. This phrase, επι'γνωσιν Θεου (epignwsin Theou) does not mean "awareness of" or "intellectual apprehension of." But rather the knowledge implied by epignwsis is limited to religious or moral things (Arndt & Gingrich, 291). The operative root here is gnosis, that deep, spiritual knowledge. St. Paul's use of the word in his Letter to the Colossians makes this point with crystal clarity:

.... that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all wisdom and spiritual
understanding; that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing Him, being fruitful
in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God ... (Col 1:9-10)
"All wisdom and spiritual understanding .... worthy .... pleasing .... fruitful .... increasing in the knowledge of God." This is no mere rational knowledge. What we have here is a complete transformation of the soul, complete conversion, what St. Paul calls elsewhere a transformation of mind in Christ Jesus (Rom 12:2, 2 Cor 3:18).

The charge Jesus lays before the Pharisees is that they, along with the Twelve Tribes, in general, have abandoned spiritual worship. And this is the point of Levi's call: metanoia, the turning away from the world, giving up worldly prestige and empty honors. As Jesus charged the young ruler: let go of worldly riches that you may have the spiritual riches of Heaven's Kingdom.

Is this not a question we ought pose to ourselves as we enter the Nativity Fast? Yes, perhaps our bodies do perform the right rituals. Perhaps we have knowledge of God in the sense of an intellectual grasp of what He requires of us. But can we say that our hearts are in it? Do we love Him and adore Him and think of Him minute by minute, hour by hour, ever seeking to do His will and please Him in newnness of life? And do we know to a certainty (thinking of that old country music song) that "Satan is Real" (Louvin Brothers)?

This is the struggle revealed by Levi-Matthew's call:

"The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, 'God, I thank You that I am not like
other men — extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast
twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.'" (Lu 18:11).
But the tax collector,
".... standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast,
saying, 'God, be merciful to me a sinner!'" (Lu 18:13)
We know the verdict rendered by Jesus:
"I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone
who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." (Lu 18:14)
Today we celebrate the feast of the man who represents this struggle. St. Matthew in that sense is the patron saint of our own conversions. The Lord Jesus came into his life on a day (and perhaps again on a later day) and set him at a crossroads. And he arose. He shook off the stranglehold of worldliness and death. And he committed himself to complete transformation — a new man, no longer Levi, but now and forever St. Matthew, Evangelist and Apostle.

In the space of our own lives, and especially as we enter the Nativity Fast, let us embrace our patron and the struggle he represents. Yes, we cannot be Evangelists, for the Canon of Scripture is closed. We cannot be Apostles, for they all have been sent. But in our humility, perhaps we will not be last. For "citizen of Heaven" has a nice ring, far above "citizen of Rome" .... and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.