Preached at Brampton Ash, 14th Sunday after Trinity, September 21, 1862.
“And as Jesus passed forth from thence He saw a man named Matthew sitting at the receipt of custom, and He saith unto him, ‘Follow Me.’”—St. Matthew ix. 9.
St. Matthew is telling us here the story of an event which happened to himself. That is not the business of his Gospel generally. He does not care that we should know him; he wished that we should know his Master. And this is his purpose in this passage as much as any other. He only speaks of his own life that he may lead us to Christ’s life.
Matthew, or Levi as he is sometimes called, was a tax-gatherer. He was sitting, it is said, at the receipt of custom—that is to say, he was sitting at the place where the taxes or tributes were collected. I have told you before that men of his class were much disliked among the Jews. The taxes went to foreign kings. Every time that they saw a tax-gatherer they were reminded that they were not their own masters, but had fallen under the power of a stranger. Moreover, some of these people turned their occupation to a bad use. They made the most of it, and got much for themselves by charging men more than they owed. I do not know that Matthew had ever done that, but he had got money by his business; he was a rich man, therefore his countrymen were likely to suspect him.
Well, as he sat one day at his office, he heard a voice saying to him, “Follow me.” I cannot tell whether he had ever seen the person who spoke these words before. Most likely he had, for Jesus was going about continually in that region. One may suppose He must have sometimes been near Matthew; at all events he must have heard of Him. But seeing His face, or getting reports of Him from other people, did not make much difference to the tax-gatherer, he sat at the receipt of custom still. Perhaps he had sometimes heard Christ deliver discourses to the multitude; he might even have wondered at them; but he went on with his work. The discourses might be good; they did not seem to particularly concern him. These words “Follow me” are altogether different. Why were they spoken? Who spoke them? He was apparently much poorer than Matthew; He was called a carpenter’s son. What right had He to command a man to rise from his place, to lose the chance of increasing his gains, to come after Him? Matthew felt that this man had a right. Poor as He looked, he felt ‘That man is my king; I must do what He bids me; I must go wherever He would have me go.’ So he rose up and followed Jesus; he became a disciple of Jesus. By and by Jesus called him to be an apostle. He sent him forth to preach His Gospel. In due time he was called to write one of the Gospels which have lasted from that day to this; which have been read this morning in every parish church throughout England.
We may be thankful, you will say, that Matthew had this call. We may be glad that he did not always continue a tax-gatherer. We should have been poorer if he had gone on making himself richer in that way. We should have been without those lessons which he has left for poor men and rich men throughout the world. But still you might think the call itself was something altogether strange; one which can never come to any of us; one which could only have been addressed to a man who was in that part of the earth on which our Lord was born, at that time when He was walking there. You might fancy this, but this is not what the collect you have joined in to-day teaches us. “Almighty God,” it says, “who by Thy blessed Son didst call Matthew from the receipt of custom to be an Apostle and Evangelist, give us grace to follow the same Thy Son Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end.” Now there, you see, we are told that the same Lord—the very same who called Matthew—is calling us who have prayed this prayer, and that we may follow Him just as truly as Matthew did. This is the subject I want to talk to you about. I want to find out how it is that a Lord whom we do not see can be calling us; and if He is, how we can follow Him.
How can He be calling us, though we do not see Him? You will remember what I have told you already. Matthew might have seen Him a hundred or a thousand times, and yet not have altered his way of life, or any of his doings or thoughts the least. Multitudes of people saw Him who went their way, and were just what they had been before. Some who saw Him hated Him, and went about to kill Him. It was then something which Matthew did not see that had such mighty power.
You know what the Roman Centurion said of whom I spoke to you a Sunday or two ago. He wanted our Lord very much to heal his servant, but he said he was not worthy that so great a person should come under His roof, but if He spoke the word only his servant would be well, for he knew what the power of words were. He was an officer, and he found that his soldiers came and went when he bade them, though he put no force upon them. Well, then, there was a word speaking to St. Matthew when he heard the sound “Follow me,” which he felt he must not fight against. He might not have dared to say so at the moment, but he knew in his heart that it was the word of the living God. He knew that he must go where that word bade him go; that he must come when that word bade him come. There might be something in him which said ‘No, stay, you are in a prosperous way; do not forsake it.’ That voice he heard, I have no doubt, sounding in him perhaps pretty loudly; but the other, though it might be only a whisper, was a royal whisper. He knew that that was the one he ought to heed; the other he must despise if he could not silence it.
Now, my friends, the writer of this collect for St. Matthew’s Day felt himself, and wished you and me to feel, that it is just so with every one of us, whether we are tax-gatherers, or labourers, or preachers. Whatever we are there is a righteous Lord who is saying to us in our hearts, “Follow me,” as there is an evil spirit who is saying to us in our hearts ‘Follow me.’ We cannot be our own masters: we must have some master, a good or a bad one. There is always something for us to do, and something for us not to do—a right way and a wrong way; and there is always One near us who would guide us into the right way, and out of the wrong way. It is well to remember that; we are all exceedingly ready to forget it. A man says to himself ‘Yes, I should like to keep out of that bad course into which I see other people running, but how am I to keep from it? these people tempt me; I am drawn along after them.’ And again a man says ‘Yes, if I could get over that accursed habit of mine—if I could be a sober man for instance—I should be so glad. But how can I? my inclinations are so strong; something in me always gets the better of me when I make even the best resolutions.’ Now all this would be true if God had left us at the mercy of other people, or of our own inclinations. But He has not. The Word of God, the Lord Jesus Christ, is stronger than all the bad people who can ever come near us; stronger than our own fancies and lusts. He is our king, as He was Matthew’s king; and He says to us as He said to Matthew, ‘Do not follow these men; do not follow the thoughts that come into your own hearts; follow me.’
But then comes the second question, how can we follow Christ? What is meant by following Him? Do you recollect the text I was preaching to you on last Sunday afternoon? It was this—“For even our Lord Jesus Christ pleased not Himself.” I showed you that that was what made His life so wonderful. He was the being over men; He commanded them; He healed them; He fed them; He did them good in a thousand ways; but He “pleased not Himself.” That was the thing He was not thinking about. He was thinking of His Father; He was bearing the reproaches that fell on His Father; He was in all ways seeking to do His will. Well, then, if I would follow Christ, this is the way. I must not be thinking of what would please myself, I must be thinking of what I ought to do; of what my Father in heaven intends me to do. But is not that very hard? Is not the first thought that comes to me ‘How should I like this thing or that?’ Yes, my friends, that thought does come to me, and it comes to you. And if I yield to my thoughts, I seek my pleasure, though it may very much interfere with yours, though it may cause you a great deal of sorrow; and you seek yours though it may interfere with mine, and cause me a great deal of misery. But now there is a Lord your Saviour and every man’s who cares for all; who would not have one be striving against another; who would have us all be working together, and would have each be helping the other, each ready to make the sacrifices for the other. He made the great sacrifice for us all; He gave Himself for us all. And now He says to us ‘Be my disciples. I will lead you in the way in which I have walked; I will teach you how to behave to each other; I will teach you what you should do in all the difficulties you will meet with on earth; I will guide you at last to the house of my Father and your Father, and of my God and your God.’ That is what He did for Matthew the Publican; that is what He is willing to do for every one of us poor sinful creatures who are here this morning.