+ The Feast of St. Matthew +

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today we take the opportunity to remember the author of the first book of the New Testament. St. Matthew, also known as Levi, identifies himself as a former tax collector, one who was therefore considered unclean, a public sinner, outcast from the Jews. And yet, our Lord saw fit to call him from his tax collector's booth and make him to be an apostle and evangelist. St. Matthew's “book of the genesis of Jesus Christ” portrays Christ especially as the new and greater Moses, who graciously fulfills the Law and the Prophets, and establishes a new covenant in and with His own blood.

Matthew's Gospel is also well-known and beloved for his record of the visit of the Magi, for the Sermon on the Mount, including the Beatitudes and the fullest text of the Lord's Prayer (as we will pray it momentarily); and for the institution of Holy Baptism and the most explicit revelation of the Holy Trinity.

Tradition is uncertain where St. Matthew's final field of labor was, or whether he died naturally or was martyred – he may have been burned, stoned, or beheaded – but he died confessing the faith, and left behind his Gospel account, which continues to shape the Church to this day. In celebrating his feast day today, we therefore give thanks to God that He has mightily governed and protected His Holy Church through this man who was called and sent by Christ to serve the sheep of His pastures with the Holy Gospel.

The Wolf and the Sheep

This parable was originally told by Pr. William Weedon. Reprinted from

http://weedon.blogspot.com/2008/03/jump-on-miscericordias-domini-good.html .

Much thanks to Pr. Weedon.

Christ is Risen! Alleluia!

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Once upon a time (a real time, mind you, not an imagined one), there was a wolf. He was a fat old thing. You see, he had it pretty easy. Whenever he wanted to eat, he only had to walk his door of his cave and look at the sheep that fed right outside. He’d eye this one or that one. And then he’d go after it and with a pretty minimal struggle, he’d bring the sheep down and eat away. And the more that he ate, the bigger he got, and the bigger he grew, the hungrier he got. He was a wicked old thing; sometimes he’d just poke his head out the door and howl. All the sheep began to shiver at the very sound of him. He’d chuckle to himself. “Yes, you better be afraid, you stupid sheep because one of these days I am going to eat you, and it won’t be pleasant, oh no it won’t. Ha! Ha!” This big, bad wolf, you see, had a name. A name of fear. The sheep had only to think of his name and they’d get wobbly on their knees and some would faint outright. His name, you see, was Death.