Calling of Matthew

# The Kindness That Calls and Includes

How Jesus Embodied Kindness Here

When Jesus "saw a man, named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom," He encountered one of the most despised figures in Jewish society. Matthew was a tax collector—a publican who had sold his soul to Rome, growing rich by extracting money from his own people. Yet Jesus simply said, "Follow me." No probationary period. No reformation program. No conditions.

This was kindness in its most radical form—chrēstotēs, the useful goodness that meets people exactly where they are. In first-century Palestine, a rabbi choosing a tax collector as a disciple would have been scandalous beyond measure. Tax collectors were barred from synagogues, their testimony rejected in courts, their money considered unclean. Jesus didn't just tolerate Matthew; He actively pursued him with an invitation to intimate fellowship.

The kindness deepened when Jesus "sat at meat in the house" with "many publicans and sinners." In that culture, sharing a meal signified acceptance, friendship, and equality. Jesus wasn't conducting a rescue mission from a safe distance—He was reclining at table, breaking bread, engaging in the kind of unhurried conversation that builds genuine relationship. When the Pharisees questioned this association, Jesus revealed the heart of His kindness: "They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick."

Here we see kindness as practical love—love that gets its hands dirty, that prioritizes human need over social convention. Jesus didn't view the outcasts as projects to be fixed but as people to be welcomed. His kindness was neither condescending charity nor permissive tolerance, but the active goodness of a physician who enters the contagion ward because that's where healing is needed most.

Following His Example

First, practice proximity over perfection. Jesus' kindness began with physical presence among those society had written off. Look for the "Matthews" in your circles—the difficult coworker, the struggling neighbor, the family member whose choices you don't understand. Instead of waiting for them to get their act together, extend concrete invitations: grab coffee, share a meal, offer practical help. Kindness often starts with simply showing up in someone's world without an agenda to fix them.

Second, challenge the social hierarchies that prevent kindness from flowing freely. The Pharisees couldn't see past Matthew's profession to his humanity. What modern equivalents might you harbor—political affiliations, economic status, lifestyle choices, or past mistakes that make you hesitate before extending kindness? Jesus' example calls us to examine our own prejudices and actively build bridges across the divides that separate us from others who bear God's image.

Third, reframe your understanding of who needs what. Jesus didn't see Matthew as someone to be rescued but as someone valuable enough to join His inner circle. When practicing kindness, resist the savior complex that positions you as the helper and others as helpless. Instead, approach relationships with curiosity about what you might receive from unlikely people. The tax collector became a Gospel writer—sometimes our kindness creates space for others to reveal gifts we never expected.

Echoes in Other Traditions

This radical inclusivity that characterizes true kindness appears across wisdom traditions. Whether in Buddhist compassion that extends equally to all beings, Islamic teachings about welcoming the stranger, or Confucian ideals of benevolence that transcend social boundaries, the principle remains constant: authentic spiritual maturity expresses itself in practical goodness toward those whom others overlook or reject. These traditions recognize, as Jesus demonstrated, that kindness is not weakness but the strength required to see beyond surface appearances to fundamental human worth.