Recently I've fallen in love with a TV show called The Chosen. If you haven't been made aware of its existence, I highly recommend it. The show relates the story of the gospels from the perspective of those chosen by Jesus. It's a unique take. Usually series or movies that focus on Jesus do so mainly from his point of view. Few that I have previously seen attempt more than a cursory glance at the backgrounds of the people surrounding Jesus, and those that have often stray far from the biblical canon.
The Chosen, on the other hand, sticks close to the biblical canon, imagining background details that are probable, and so doing, fleshes out the experiences of the people who walked with Jesus. Peter comes off as impulsive, extroverted, a go-getter in over his head. That definitely fits what we know of him from scripture. Andrew is immediately captivated by the Messiah. This squares with the Bible's record as well. Mary Magdalene overflows with love and gratitude for the man who released her from torment. Thomas, the doubter, already finds himself overwhelmed with indecision. Nicodemus seeks out the new teacher in Galilee, desperate for answers to stirring questions. Every character in the show is carefully crafted and honestly approached. And then there is Matthew...
I started watching The Chosen expecting characters like Mary and Peter and Nicodemus to exhibit the characteristics they did. I was overjoyed to view a production that handled them so well and then some. What I didn't expect was my favorite character in the series to be the tax collector who's personal story in the gospels is relegated to one singular event.
Who was Matthew? We know he was a tax collector and not well liked by his community. He was part of the group the Pharisees despised when they questioned Jesus eating with "tax collectors and sinners." His choice of career was a betrayal in the eyes of many as the man took their money and gave it to Rome. That's about all we know about Matthew, and I had never pondered beyond these details. Then The Chosen came along and set my mind spinning.
Much of Matthew's character in the show relates to his profession. He's good with numbers and record keeping. The Chosen interpreted the character as so talented with calculations, he falls somewhere on the autism spectrum, not entirely socially aware and caught up in his own mathematical world. He's also fastidious and a bit of a dirt-o-phobe. This avoidance of filth is made all the easier because of his wealth. He's served Rome well and is reaping his rewards. He's hated, but that doesn't stop him from doing his job. How in the world would a man like this end up a disciple?
For a man that has calculated his entire life, who has achieved his goals through logical mathematics, Jesus is a conundrum. When Matthew observes Peter's miraculous catch of fish at his calling and witnesses the paralytic rise and walk, his entire world is shaken. Everything had found a place in his mental box, tallied and computed by his talented mind. But miracles? Those shouldn't happen. They don't make any sense, and their existence torments Matthew, making him question all he's based his life on.
I found myself on the edge of my seat watching The Chosen, eagerly awaiting the day Jesus would pass by Matthew's booth and utter those two inevitable words: "Follow me." When the moment arrived, my wide smile practically leaped off my face. I watched this man throw all his achievements away in a moment, drop everything, and follow the Messiah who had blown his ordered and perfect world to smithereens.
I think what struck me more than anything was how presenting this character this way challenged so many people's conceptions of Jesus. Many cannot abide anything that doesn't fit within their mentally constructed boxes. Logic, reason, order. Nothing is allowed to burst the seams of this box. So if it does, then it is summarily rejected.
The irony is that what Matthew chose to do is utterly rooted in logic and reason. He had seen. Even when others challenged him, trying to convince him he'd been tricked, he knew he hadn't. He couldn't deny what his eyes beheld, what his evidence added up to. So when Jesus calls him, it's only logical to follow the one who can call up miracles with simply his word.
Why do I follow Jesus? My faith isn't blind. It's based on evidences such as the world's design, historical records, archaeological discoveries, biblical consistency. But it's even more than these. If I limited God to these tangible proofs, I'd be missing out. God surpasses these with miracle and spiritual transformation. He shatters my box, making my choice clear: either scramble to put the pieces back together or step beyond the borders to possibility.
What is your box? What things have you told yourself don't fit inside? If you've allowed God in, have you attempted to lock him up to meet your expectations?
I have a suspicion that just like Matthew in The Chosen, we all have boxes. Maybe it's personal logic and reason. Maybe it's the plan I had for my life. Maybe it's no disturbance, smooth sailing, only positive experiences. But if it's one thing I know from the Bible, from the gospels, it's that God isn't in the habit of squishing himself into our boxes. He rips them right open. And when he does, we can assure he's waiting right outside, hand outstretched, ready to speak a simple command: "Follow me."
If we do, we might just be surprised what deep abiding satisfaction we'll find.
