SEPTEMBER 21, 2026 FATHER ERNIE DE CICCIO

I imagine St. Matthew was very surprised when Jesus called him. For that matter, I imagine all the apostles were surprised when Jesus called them. A lot of them were fishermen. This one was a tax collector. They were not part of the religious hierarchy. They were not the privileged people of society. They were not the types that people would refer to as holy. They were common individuals. And yes, they were all sinners.

St. Peter, when he was called by Jesus, said it clearly, “Get away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man. What are you doing with me?” And I could imagine St. Matthew saying much the same thing, “What are you doing calling me? Nobody wants to talk to me; I’m a tax collector. I’m seen as somebody who’s betrayed the nation of Israel because I’m collecting taxes for the Roman Empire.” And everybody called him a sinner. He would not have been welcome in polite society.

And yet, Jesus goes to eat at table with him. And not just him, we’re told that a whole bunch of other tax collectors and sinners were at the table too. Jesus calls sinners. Jesus calls people who are not perfect. But somehow, Jesus is able to look into their hearts and recognize there that there is good.

And Matthew must have had a good heart, a heart capable of love, a heart capable of showing kindness and mercy, and that’s who Jesus wanted to have as a disciple, and that’s who Jesus would send out as an apostle to spread good news. Because as a broken person, Matthew would not be able to be very judgmental of others.

Think about it. When we fall, when we’re aware of our own weaknesses and faults, then it might make us a little bit more patient, and tolerant, and compassionate towards others who might also have fallen. Jesus came, even though he was perfect because he was Son of God, and he showed compassion, the kind of compassion he wants all of us to show. He was not judgmental. He was not exclusive.

He welcomed tax collectors and sinners to be part of his inner circle, and he entrusted them with the ministry of the church. Eventually, Matthew and the other apostles would be sent out to spread the good news, to teach in the synagogues, to heal broken bodies and hearts. And maybe some people might take offense at that and say, “That is not who we want to see as part of that crowd of Jesus.”

You know, this happens in our churches, too, sometimes. Some people might know that somebody might have been a former addict of some kind, and, “How can Father choose that one to be a Eucharistic minister?” Maybe one of the people they know had had an affair. “How could Father ask that person to be a reader at Mass?” Do we believe in conversion? Do we believe that it’s possible for people to change and do better?

Jesus could have looked at Matthew and said, “Well, you’re a tax collector. You’ll never amount to much. You’re condemned already.” No. Jesus was able to say, “This person can do good. This person can change. This person can stop sinning and get on the right track. This person can be an apostle.”

And look at all the others that he called. Look at all the others who chose to follow him. They tended not to be the high priests of the temple, the Pharisees and Sadducees and scribes who were maybe a little too self-righteous and holier-than-thou, and maybe they looked down on others. People who have faults, people who are broken, can’t look down on anybody else because, when they look in the mirror, they recognize their own imperfection, and, hopefully, that makes them more compassionate.

That’s the message of the Feast of St. Matthew. The message is, number one, all of us can change and do better because God always gives us chances – not a chance; chances. I tell people all the time, after confession, “Chances are you’re going to sin again, and you’ll be back,” and that’s okay, so long as the conversion comes from the heart and that we keep trying.

So, yes, we can change and do better. Yes, we can be welcomed by Jesus, imperfect though we may be. And yes, hopefully, when we’re honest with ourselves and say, “I am not a perfect human being. I have my faults, my failures, my warts,” hopefully, that will make us more loving.

Jesus commanded us to love, and to love not just those who are without fault, but to love the tax collectors, the sinners. Like Jesus, may we welcome all the broken people of our own time and space into the family that we call church because, in God’s family, there’s room for Matthews, and Peters, and Mary Magdalens, and all others who’ve had messy lives.