Gospel:
Matt. 9, 9-18
As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the
tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed
him.
And as Jesus[a] reclined at table in the
house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were
reclining with Jesus and his disciples. And when the Pharisees
saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher
eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard it, he
said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those
who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not
sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
Context: Tax collectors are the
dregs of Jewish society since they are the ones taking money from the people
for the occupying Romans. They are associated conceptually and semantically
with sinners and prostitutes. (Mt. 9, 10; Lk, 15, 1; Mt. 21, 31). Matthew is one
of them. Notice Jesus’ comparison of the Pharisee and the Publican: “Two
men went up to the Temple to pray, the one a Pharisee and the other a publican.
The Pharisee stood and began to pray thus within himself: ‘O God, I thank thee
that I am not like the rest of men robbers, dishonest, adulterers, or even like
this publican. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I possess.’ But
the publican, standing afar off, would not so much as lift up his eyes to
heaven, but kept striking his breast, saying, ‘O God, be merciful to me the
sinner!’ I tell you, this man went back to his home justified rather than the
other; for everyone who exalts himself, shall be humbled, and he who humbles
himself shall be exalted.’” [1]
Jesus Has Mercy on the Sinner and Calls Him to Follow. Roger Landry wrote: “On
Sept. 21, 1953, a 16 year-old boy named Jorge Bergoglio was planning to go out to
celebrate with friends an Argentinean national
holiday called Students’ Day, which is always held on the first day of spring
in the Southern Hemisphere. Jorge decided to start the holiday by going to pray
at his parish church dedicated to St. Joseph.
“He was
likely unaware that, in the Church’s liturgical calendar, Sept. 21 is the feast
of St. Matthew, the despised tax collector, who, despite his sins, was nevertheless
shockingly summoned by the Lord to become one of his apostles.
“When
Jorge arrived at church, he saw a priest he didn’t recognize but who seemed to
radiate holiness. He decided to approach him and asked him to hear his
confession. We don’t know what Jorge said to the priest or what the priest said
in response. But we do know that t hat confession totally changed not only the
teenager’s plans for the day, but for the whole course of his life: “For me,
this was an experience of encounter: I found that Someone was waiting for me.
Yet I do not know what happened. I can’t remember. I do not know why that
particular priest was there, whom I did not know, or why I felt this desire to
confess. But the truth is that Someone was waiting for me. He had been waiting
for me for some time. After making my confession, I felt something had changed.
I was not the same. I had heard some thing like a voice or a call. I was
convinced that I should become a priest.”
Interview with Anthony Spadaro S.J.:
“I ask him point-blank: ‘Who is Jorge
Mario Bergoglio?’ The pope stares at me in silence. I ask him if this is a
question that I am allowed to ask.... He nods that it is, and he tells me: “I
do not know what might be the most fitting description.... I am a sinner. This
is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary
genre. I am a sinner.”
“The pope
continues to reflect and concentrate, as if he did not expect this question, as
if he were forced to reflect further. ‘Yes, perhaps I can say that I am a bit
astute, that I can adapt to circumstances, but it is also true that I am a bit
naïve. Yes, but the best summary, the one that comes more from the inside and I
feel most true is this: I am a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon.” And he
repeats: “I am one who is looked upon by the Lord. I always felt my
motto, Miserando atque Eligendo [By Having Mercy and by Choosing
Him], was very true for me.’
“The motto
is taken from the Homilies of Bede the Venerable, who writes in his comments on the
Gospel story of the calling of Matthew: ‘Jesus saw a publican, and since he
looked at him with feelings of love and chose him, he said to him, “Follow me.”
The pope adds: ‘I think the Latin gerund miserando is
impossible to translate in both Italian and Spanish. I like to translate it
with another gerund that does not exist:misericordiando [“mercy-ing”].
“Pope
Francis continues his reflection and tells me, in a change of topic that I do
not immediately understand: ‘I do not know Rome well. I know a few things.
These include the Basilica of St. Mary Major; I always used to go there.’ I
laugh and I tell him, ‘We all understood that very well, Holy Father!’ ‘Right,
yes”—the pope continues – ‘I know St. Mary Major, St. Peter’s...but when I had
to come to Rome, I always stayed in [the neighborhood of] Via della Scrofa.
From there I often visited the Church of St. Louis of France, and I went there
to contemplate the painting of “The Calling of St. Matthew” by
Caravaggio.’ I begin to intuit what the pope wants to tell me.
“‘That
finger of Jesus, pointing at Matthew. That’s me. I feel like him. Like Matthew.’
Here the pope becomes determined, as if he had finally found the image he was
looking for: ‘It is the gesture of Matthew that strikes me: he holds on to his
money as if to say, ‘No, not me! No, this money is mine.’ Here, this is me, a
sinner on whom the Lord has turned his gaze. And this is what I said when they
asked me if I would accept my election as pontiff.’ Then the pope whispers in
Latin: ‘I am a sinner, but I trust in the infinite mercy and patience of our
Lord Jesus Christ, and I accept in a spirit of penance.’”
Vocation and Mission – for Pope
Francis and for Everyone:
The Joy of the Gospel:
#273. My mission of being in the heart of the people is not just a part of my
life or a badge I can take off; it is not an “extra” or just another moment in
life. Instead, it is something I cannot uproot from my being without destroying
my very self. I am a mission on this earth; that is the reason why I am here in
this world. We have to regard ourselves as sealed, even branded, by this
mission of bringing light, blessing, enlivening, raising up, healing and
freeing. All around us we begin to see nurses with soul, teachers with soul,
politicians with soul, people who have chosen deep down to be with others and
for others. But once we separate our work from our private lives, everything
turns grey and we will always be seeking recognition or asserting our needs. We
stop being a people.
At the Moment of the
Election to the Papacy:
“Fear of the mission… can be ‘a sign from the good spirit.’
‘When we realize we are
chosen, we feel that the weight on us is too great, and we experience fear – in
some cases, even panic. That is the beginning of the Cross. At the same time,
we feel deeply drawn by the Lord who by his very summons seduces us to follow
him with a fire burning in our heart.’[2]
“Ast he world held its bareat h, inside the
Pauline Chapel Francis drew himself into stillness. Herae, in the antechamber
of his new existence, he took a moment to fueled by a strength nothis own.
Eventually the disturbance lifted, and he was flooded with a joy and peace. I
wwas filledwith a great light,’ he later recalled. ‘It lasted a moment, but to
me it seemed very long.’
Only Godour Lord
can give consolation to the soul without preceding cause… For it is the Creator’s
prerogative to enter the soul and leave her, and to arouse omovements tha draw
her entirely into love os his Divine Majesty.
[The director of Vatican TV described what he saw as the images were
fed back to his TV truck]:
"The Pope is crossing the Sistine Chapel looking down,
accompanied by Cardinal Vallini and Cardinal Tauran. He is looking down; he
doesn’t greet the cardinals, as if he was carrying an enormous burden. Entering
the Pauline Chapel, they had prepared a throne, but does not sit on the throne.
He forcefully takes the cardinals to sit on either side of him in the last pew.
He prays in silence. At a certain moment, the Pope rises. He turns around,
exits into the Sala Regia and at that moment he is a different person. It’s a
person who is smiling. It’s as if he had entrusted the burden of this choice as
if God had said to him personally, ‘Don’t worry. I’m here with you.’ It’s a person
who is no longer downcast. His face is no longer tilted downward. It’s a man
who looks and asks himself what he needs to do.
“To many people Francis has since confirmed this account,
telling one cardinal that he felt ‘a great sense of inner peace and freedom
come over me, which has never left me.’ To another he said: ‘I believe the Holy
Spirit had changed me.’”[3]
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