Matthew Overview / Mark 2:14-17 / Matthew 4:23

Welcome to those of you here this week, and a special welcome to those joining us via video. I’m so glad you are with us. If you have your Bibles, we’re going to launch a new series this week through the book of Matthew. To do that, I want you to turn to the book of Mark—which might not make any sense at first, but welcome to The Well!

The Artist and the Outcast

Before we dive into the text, I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. His name was Michelangelo Merisi. He was born in 1571 in a little city just outside of Milan called Caravaggio. In that town, he grew up as an aspiring young artist, eventually receiving a commission to paint for a church. Now, this was a unique opportunity because this young man was, shall we say, a bit of a troublemaker. He was known as a carouser, a womanizer, and a man prone to debauchery and brawls. He was not necessarily the person you would first consider for a commission in a chapel.

Yet, as an aspiring artist, he caught the eye of many in Rome. He was actually the second choice for the Contarelli Chapel in the church of San Luigi dei Francesi. As it turned out, the first guy overbooked himself and had to back out. So, they gave the job to the kid. This kid, who became known simply as Caravaggio, won the commission for a three-panel set. The size was magnificent—about ten and a half feet by eleven feet.

Caravaggio was a unique character because he pushed against the art of his day. We were at the end of the Renaissance, a period that brought an incredible sense of beauty, holiness, and divine perfection. Then Caravaggio came along. His picture of reality was not nearly as “holy” as everyone else’s. He lived on the streets; he was a man of the slums. He was a provocative artist. In one of his famous paintings of the Madonna and Child, he used a prostitute as his model for Mary. It drove the church authorities crazy. They argued, “You can’t use a prostitute! She’s a sinner!” That’s an interesting theological conundrum to play out, isn’t it?

Caravaggio eventually blew his life up. He got into a fight over some sort of racket game—I don’t know, pickleball or tennis or something—and being a hothead, he ended up killing a guy. He had to run for his life. He fled to Naples, then Malta, all while seeking a pardon from the Pope. During this time, he painted a self-portrait unlike any other: The Beheading of Goliath. In it, David is holding the head of the villain, Goliath. On the sword, it says, “Humility conquers pride.” The face of the villain, Goliath, was Caravaggio’s own self-portrait.

He eventually headed back toward Rome, hoping the pardon was coming. He was falsely accused of a crime on the way, missed his ship, and died shortly after of either malaria or syphilis. He died in torment, not knowing if he had been pardoned, believing in his heart he was damned. Yet, years earlier, he had painted a masterpiece that has hung in the same place for 418 years.

The Masterpiece: The Calling of Matthew

I want to show you this painting. This is Caravaggio’s The Calling of Matthew. To understand the Gospel of Matthew, we need to understand the man, because the irony of it all is that Matthew is the one who writes it.

In this painting, you see two figures on the right. One has a halo, representing Jesus; the other burly character is most likely Peter. The scene is gritty and sooty—not Renaissance at all. It’s earthy. Is this the backroom of a tavern? The back of a brothel? We don’t know, but it represents everyday life. Notice that Jesus and Peter are in first-century clothing, but the men at the table are in sixteenth-century clothing. The light invades the room, hitting the main character, Matthew.

Matthew is caught in the act of being Matthew—a racketeering tax collector. He’s pointing to himself as if to say, “Are you talking to me?” There are others at the table: one person is leaning in, curious about this Christ figure. Two others don’t even see Jesus; they are too busy counting the money. Then there’s a character looking at Peter, his hand on his sword as if he’s about to stand up. Peter, being a backstreet brawler who looks like he swings bricks for fists, is looking back as if to say, “Son, you better sit down.”

What’s most interesting are the feet of Jesus. They are turned as if He is already leaving the room. I think that says a lot about the theology of God’s calling. If we are dead in our transgressions, the only way we can be alive is if He calls us. Jesus, so sure of His calling, is already turning to lead the way out.

Let’s look at the inspiration for this painting in Mark chapter two. Mark’s Gospel is primarily composed of Peter’s experiences, captured by John Mark.

Mark 2:14-17 (NASB)

As He passed by, He saw Levi the [son] of Alphaeus sitting in the tax booth, and He said to him, ‘Follow Me!’ And he got up and followed Him. And it happened that He was reclining [at the table] in his house, and many tax collectors and sinners were dining with Jesus and His disciples; for there were many of them, and they were following Him. When the scribes of the Pharisees saw that He was eating with the sinners and tax collectors, they said to His disciples, ‘Why is He eating and drinking with tax collectors and sinners?’ And hearing [this], Jesus said to them, ‘[It is] not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick; I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.’

Location, Location, Location: Why Capernaum?

In real estate, it’s always about location, location, location. Why is it significant that Matthew is sitting at a tax booth? We have to ask where this is taking place. Verse 13 tells us they are at a seashore, and verse one tells us they are in the city of Capernaum. This is the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee.

There were three main north-south trade routes in Israel. You had the Via Maris on the coast, the Way of the Patriarchs through the central mountains, and the King’s Highway to the east. All three of them crossed through the city of Capernaum. You would be hard-pressed to find a more lucrative tax-collecting booth in the entire nation. And who was running the gates? Our boy, Matthew.

Matthew was making a ton of money. Rome demanded a certain amount, and anything Matthew could squeeze out above that was his to keep. It was the art of ripping off your own brethren. This is why Matthew likely had “heavies” or enforcers around him, like the guy with the sword in Caravaggio’s painting.

Now, think about Jesus. He was born in Bethlehem and grew up in Nazareth. But according to Matthew’s own record, Jesus eventually moved His headquarters.

Matthew 4:12-13 (NASB)

Now when Jesus heard that John had been taken into custody, He withdrew into Galilee; and leaving Nazareth, He came and settled in Capernaum, which is by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali.

Jesus was smart. He knew that if you want a message to go viral, you go to the trade routes. Jerusalem got the religious traffic, but Capernaum got the world. It was near the Decapolis, where the pagans lived. It was a crossroads. Jesus sets up shop there, and in verse 14, He calls to Matthew and says, “Follow me.”

In that moment, Matthew makes a snap judgment. He walks away from the most lucrative career in the region to follow Jesus. Why? Because Jesus wasn’t a stranger. He had been living in Capernaum. When the friends of the paralytic dug through a roof to get to Jesus, they were likely digging through the roof of Jesus’ own house in Capernaum. They knew Him. Matthew had seen Him. And when Jesus says, “Follow me,” Matthew leaves it all.

The Party and the Physician

What’s the first thing Matthew does? He throws a party for his beer-drinking buddies. I want you to notice how at home Jesus is in that environment. I’m not suggesting He participated in the sin, but He was comfortable being there, and they were comfortable with Him. The irreligious people were drawn to Jesus in droves because He showed grace and spoke truth.

But the religious people? They had a major case of FOMO—Fear of Missing Out. They asked the disciples, “Why is He eating with those people?” Inferred in that is: “Why isn’t He eating with us? We aren’t sinners like they are.”

Jesus hears this and flips the script. He says He didn’t come for those who think they are healthy, but for those who know they are sick. Let me break it to you: we are all sinners. Every single one of us is morally jacked and desperately wicked at the core. But Jesus only has a message for the people who recognize it. The religious are left on the outside looking in, while the “sinners” on the inside are finding faith.

Connecting the Dots: An Overview of Matthew

Think about the irony. Matthew, the man who ripped off his countrymen, is the one who writes a Gospel specifically for his countrymen. If you lived in Capernaum and got cheated by this dude every time you took your almonds to market, and then you saw him hanging out with a rabbi, you’d be shocked. “That guy? He’s shady!” Yes, and God used him to write a book.

Matthew’s Gospel is profoundly Jewish. He uses Jewish vocabulary like “the kingdom of heaven” and “the holy city.” He takes Jesus’ genealogy all the way back to Abraham to show His Jewish roots. He quotes the Old Testament nearly a hundred times. He is “connecting the dots.” It’s like those children’s puzzles where you draw lines from one to a hundred. By the time the Jewish reader gets to chapter 28, they should realize, “Oi vei, Jesus is the Messiah!”

Matthew presents Jesus as the Messianic King. The Old Testament ends with 400 years of silence, leaving us wanting more. Matthew steps in to show that Jesus is the fulfillment of over 300 specific prophecies. It is a mathematical absurdity to think anyone could “accidentally” fulfill them all.

His message is that the King has come, He was rejected by His people (which created an intermediate period for the Church), and one day, He will return to establish His earthly kingdom. God keeps His word. He will one day sit on a throne in Jerusalem and rule just as He promised.

I think the purpose of this whole book can be summed up in one verse:

Matthew 4:23 (NASB)

Jesus was going throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness among the people.

That’s what He is doing. He is teaching and proclaiming the kingdom. We’re going to take our time walking through these 28 chapters. If you like a quick five-week series, you’re going to hate this, because we’re dropping the plow and staying here until we thoroughly understand the uniqueness of our Christ.

Which Character Are You?

As we wrap up, I want to go back to the painting one last time. Matthew was an unlikely guy to write this book. I can relate to that. People sometimes ask me what it’s like pastoring in my hometown. Truthfully? It’s humiliating. I lived for so long without Christ in this town that people know stories about me that would be really bad if they ended up on Instagram. I was “that guy.” Matthew was “that guy,” too.

But that’s the power of the gospel. It makes old things new. Caravaggio, who spent his life looking at Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, painted Jesus’ hand in a specific way. In the Sistine Chapel, God reaches out to create the first Adam. In this painting, Caravaggio uses that same hand for Jesus. He’s saying that Jesus is the “Second Adam,” reaching out to redeem a fallen world.

So, if you put yourself in this painting, which character are you?

Are you Peter, the defender? Are you the curious, checking things out but not quite sure? Are you the distracted, counting your money and indifferent to the divine presence in the room? Are you the antagonistic, ready to pull a sword because you don’t buy any of this?

Or are you the called? Are you the one who hears two words—“Follow me”—and responds by getting up and leaving your old life behind?

God used a man from a shady profession to change the world. He can use you, too.

Let’s pray.

Father, as we enter into this journey through Matthew, we pray that our hearts would be raised to see Christ afresh. We thank You for the example of a man called from a bad background and a broken moral life. You changed him, and he wrote a Gospel to tell the very people he had cheated about the King who saves.

God, we recognize that we are the sick in need of a physician. We are the broken in need of a Savior. Use us like You used Matthew. Help us to throw our own parties and tell our own friends about the Jesus who came to seek and save the lost. Shape us to understand what it truly means to follow You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.