Feast of St. Matthew Fr. Rick, homilist In our home, Chax and I have quite a collection of art: charcoal, watercolor, oil paintings, artistic photographs and a poster with the artist’s addition of a drawing in her own hand in the bottom left corner. I like art! I see art as the shrining of a moment generated from a story. The moment may be based on something the artist sees outside her or himself, and then enshrines it according to the artist’s perception. It may be based on an interior experience of the artist, who then brings it into the world outside the artist’s being, a way in which we can share what the artist experienced and now expresses. We have quite a bit of art in our church. The most recent addition is the statue of St. Patrick, Apostle of Ireland, in the side chapel area. It came from parishioner Lenci Loring. Next to it is a cross-stitch of the Nativity. That pentaptych (a five-paneled artwork) was made by a parishioner named Edward Seright. It took him 2,600 hours. I could go on quite a while, because, to share something of each piece of art in our church would put me over the 15-minute limit the Rector requires of homilists. But there are two pieces of art I would like to focus on today. First is the icon of the Last Supper, in the chancel. In the tradition of the Orthodox Churches of Eastern Christianity, an icon is more than just a painting. It is a means by which one can draw spiritual nourishment by concentrating on the work and reflecting on its meaning. The figure or figures within the icon are not meant to be exact likenesses of who they portray. The way they are “written” (the term used instead of “drawn”) is to encourage reflection as they speak to us of a mystery. The mystery of the Last Supper speaking to us from this icon? Well, that is something we all must discern for ourselves. The Last Supper was an incredibly intimate experience Jesus shared with his disciples. They really did not understand all that was about to happen. Jesus gave them a way to recall what he taught them as they gathered together. The meal was a sacrifice, in that Jesus was offering himself to them and for all as he would complete his mission. It was and remains a sacred meal for all who come to the table, a meal that provides solace and strength, pardon and renewal, to use the words of Eucharistic Prayer C. Among the disciples pictured in this icon is Matthew, whose feast we celebrate today. I cannot tell you which is he, but I can point out the two who I believe are someone other than him. The one uncomfortable at the table is Judas. The one in the middle is Jesus. Another power of this Last Supper icon is that it carries with it a relationship to the meal we heard read in the Gospel this morning, Jesus eating and drinking with people who are outcasts. It is a message that all are welcome by Jesus in spite of where they are in their lives. The Jesus presence at the Last Supper was also the Jesus presence at table with the tax collectors and other outcasts. The only one excluded from Jesus’ welcome is the one who excludes oneself. In a Eucharistic Prayer in the Scottish Book of Common Prayer, we read that as Jesus offered himself at this meal, he did so “alight with the vision of a feast that heralded a kingdom yet to come.” In other words, this Holy Communion is but a foretaste of the joy which is God’s reign in its fullness. There is a longstanding tradition of giving Holy Communion to someone near the time of the person’s death. It is meant as “viaticum,” food for the journey. But whenever we receive it, it is food for the journey. A second icon I want to highlight is that of St. Matthew. There are coins pictured here and often one sees Matthew holding a bag of money. The small statue in front of the altar has Matthew holding a bag of money. You may recall he was a tax collector. In first-century Israel, a tax collector was a persona non grata, not welcomed. He was an outcast. As a tax collector, he was seen as a collaborator with the Roman imperial authorities. He collected the prescribed amount of tax but added his own “administrative fee.” Jesus invited him to follow him. I believe it is in Franco Zeffirelli’s television mini-series, Jesus of Nazareth, that we witness a powerful portrayal of Jesus’ teaching in the reconciliation of Peter and Matthew. If memory serves, Jesus tells the story of the prodigal son within the background of an animosity of Peter who loved his country and hated those who abused it against Matthew because of Matthew’s tax-collecting past. Jesus using the story brings the Prodigal Son (Matthew) and the Angry Older Brother (Peter) to reconciliation. Both are disciples of Jesus and both will be apostles sent out by Jesus. After the resurrection of Jesus the Christ, Matthew is said to have converted many persons in Judea to Christianity. Tradition then maintains he went to the East, where he was martyred but there is no historical record of this. The icon of Matthew reminds that each of us has done things we are not particularly proud of, and which we know were wrong. No one is perfect. The message of Matthew’s icon does not stop there. It encourages us to know that Jesus calls all who are willing to follow him. Liturgical worship always has a reason for where each and every part of the service occurs. We profess our trust in God after we have heard and reflected on the homily. A cynical priest I know told me we do the profession of faith there in case the homily was heretical. We exchange peace after we have confessed our sins, a symbol of acceptance. The placing of the icons of Matthew and the Last Supper at their respective locations represent the Apostolic Preaching, the Liturgy of the Word, and the sacred meal, the Liturgy of Holy Communion. But why does all of this exist? Our liturgy and the art that surrounds us are reminders of God’s presence and commitment to us. It is an ongoing message that God welcomes all, and we the church of St. Matthew, not the building, but the people we are, we are to know we are welcomed by God and are to welcome one another and all others. Amen.