Hey, You're Coming With Me: Devotion for July 14

It looks like a shady deal going down. Money on the table. A dimly lit room. A few nervous,

armed men keeping watch. Is it the back room of a seedy tavern? A gangster’s basement?

And what’s with all the pointing?

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had the chance to visit Rome and Florence. One of the

highlights of our trip was a visit to the French church of San Luigi dei Francesi in Rome.

Tucked away in the far-left corner is one of my favorite paintings: The Calling of St. Matthew (1600) by Caravaggio. He’s a favorite artist of ours—and it was actually an exhibit of his work that inspired our trip. Seeing his paintings in person was breathtaking.

As the title suggests, this particular painting captures the moment Jesus calls Matthew to follow him. At the center of the scene are a group of tax collectors—reviled figures in that time, known for being corrupt and greedy. Jesus stands on the far right, just behind Peter, pointing toward a surprised and slightly confused Matthew. A beam of sunlight cuts through the shadows, illuminating his face.

Art historians widely agree that Matthew is the bearded man in the black tunic, pointing to

himself in disbelief. His expression practically says, “Wait—me?” And that’s the wonder of it.

Matthew is caught red-handed. He’s in the middle of a greedy moment, surrounded by coins,

companions, and comfort. And yet, that is the moment Jesus chooses to call him.

I can’t help but wonder: what if Jesus caught me in one of my greedy moments?

What if he showed up while I was standing in Eddie Bauer, credit card in hand, buying yet

another pair of jeans I don’t really need? What if he appeared right after I passed by someone

hungry on the street, too busy or too uncomfortable to stop? And in those moments, what if he said, “You. I want you”?

Who, me? Surely not. Surely he means someone else—someone more generous, more

compassionate, more holy. But Caravaggio’s painting suggests otherwise.

He doesn’t paint Christ in some heavenly glow, far removed from real life. He places him in a

dark, dusty room, surrounded by the kinds of people most of us would avoid. He paints Christ

stepping directly into the mess. Into the shadows. Into the greed, the shame, the sin.

This is where Jesus meets us. Not after we’ve cleaned ourselves up. Not when we’ve gotten

everything together. But in the middle of our most compromised moments—hovering over our

money, protecting our secrets, covering our failures. It’s there that he lifts his hand, looks us in

the eye, and says, “You. I call you. I’ve seen you at your worst. I’m not going anywhere. Come

with me. We’ve got work to do.”

And like Matthew, we’re left with a choice.

Will we stay in the shadows, pretending the call wasn’t meant for us? Or will we, like Matthew,

rise and follow?

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s

booth. ‘Follow me,’ he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him.” —Matthew 9:9

Featured image: Caravaggio, The Calling of St. Matthew, 1559-1600