Feast of St. Matthias, Apostle

Text: “26 And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.” (Acts 1:26)

In much of the Church today, remembering the saints feels unfamiliar. Outside of All Saints’ Day, their names rarely come up. Even then, we focus—rightly—on those we knew. Brothers and sisters in Christ whose funerals we attended. Saints whose voices we remember.

But in an anniversary year, memory presses itself upon you differently. Not nostalgia. Not hero stories. But the question: how has Christ carried His Church forward over time?

So today we remember St. Matthias.

Not because he is impressive.

Not because he left behind stirring speeches.

Not because he dominates the pages of Scripture.

He almost disappears.

And that is precisely why he helps us.

Acts opens in an in-between moment. Christ has ascended. The Spirit has not yet been poured out. The Church waits.

And the Church that is waiting has gone from twelve apostles to eleven. Judas has fallen.

Judas’s action is named for what it is. Wickedness. The text does not soften it. It does not excuse it. It does not pretend it did not happen. The consequences are real. The loss is real.

The Church must decide how to move forward. For the first time, the remaining eleven must move forward without Jesus standing among them.

Peter stands up—not with ambition, but with Scripture. And he lays out the qualifications for an apostle.

It must be someone who accompanied them during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among them—beginning from the baptism of John until the day He was taken up.

And there is one central task:

To become with them a witness to His resurrection.

That is the apostolic office.

Not private revelation.

Not spiritual charisma.

Not personal authority.

An eyewitness to what Jesus did and taught—especially to the resurrection.

That office was foundational. It is not passed on. The Church is built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the cornerstone. Foundations are laid once.

Two men meet those qualifications.

And then the Church prays:

“You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen.”

The apostles can identify faithfulness.

They cannot see the heart.

The choice belongs to the Lord.

The lot falls on Matthias.

And this is his moment.

His name is spoken.

He is numbered with the Eleven.

He stands at the hinge of the Church’s story.

And then the narrative moves on.

Luke does not linger.

He does not recount Matthias’ ministry.

He does not preserve his sermons or his deeds.

Matthias does not become the focus.

He is simply numbered with the apostles.

And that is enough.

That is how saints are rightly remembered. Not as heroes. But as evidence that Christ continues His work.

And yet what he was given was not small.

He was chosen for a weighty office. A responsibility. A public witness.

But what kind of weight does Christ place upon those He calls?

Listen to Him:

“Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

At first, that sounds like a contradiction.

Take My yoke upon you?

Learn from Me?

Carry what I give you?

How can a yoke give rest?

Matthias was given a weighty office. The Eleven bore a real responsibility. To witness to the resurrection. To preach Christ in a hostile world. To suffer for His name.

That does not sound light.

And Jesus does not say there is no yoke. He does not say there is no burden.

He says, “My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”

How can that be?

How can the yoke of discipleship—whether apostolic witness or quiet faithfulness—give rest?

It can only be light if the heaviest weight has already been carried.

And it has.

The heaviest burden was not laid upon Matthias.

It was not laid upon the Eleven.

It is not laid upon you.

It was laid upon Christ.

There, at the cross, the weight of sin fell.

The weight of guilt.

The weight of judgment.

The weight of death.

“He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities.”

He allowed Himself to be crushed by what would have crushed you.

And that is why His yoke is easy.

Not because discipleship requires nothing.

Not because the Church’s life has no cost.

But because the burden that condemns has already been borne.

That is what Matthias was chosen to testify to.

To stand among the apostles and declare that the crushing was finished.

That sin had been borne.

That death had been overcome.

And that is what you have been chosen for as well.

Not as an apostle.

Not as a foundation stone.

That foundation has been laid. Matthias and the Eleven were given that task once and for all.

But upon that foundation, the Church continues to be built.

“You also, like living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house.”

“Built together into a holy temple in the Lord.”

And what is that house built upon?

The finished work of Christ.

Matthias was chosen to testify that the crushing was finished.

You are chosen to live from that finished work.

Not as an apostle.

But as a disciple of Jesus.

You were not chosen because you proved yourself useful.

You were not chosen because you were faithful enough.

You were not chosen because the Church could see something in you.

Before the foundation of the world, God set His will toward your salvation. He chose you. Not in theory. Not as a possibility. But deliberately.

And that eternal will did not remain hidden behind heaven.

He chose you here in time and space.

He chose you at the cross.

He knows the hearts of all.

He knows your heart as well as any.

He knows the sins no one else sees.

The thoughts you excuse.

The motives you defend.

The shame you carry quietly.

And He went to the cross for all of it.

For every obvious sin.

For every hidden sin.

For every failure of heart and mind and hand.

He carried the weight of guilt and shame that presses upon you.

He allowed Himself to be crushed for all of you.

He suffered it to choose you.

While the soldiers beneath Him were casting lots for His clothing, He was choosing you. The cross is not simply where sins are forgiven. It is where God’s will toward you is made visible.

If you ever wonder what God thinks of you, you do not look inward. You do not measure spiritual progress. You certainly do not compare yourself to others.

You look there.

And the choosing that was planned in eternity and accomplished at the cross was not left behind in history.

It was delivered.

In Baptism, that choosing was spoken with your name attached. Not generally. Not hypothetically. But personally.

There, God did not say, “You might belong to Me.” He said, “You are Mine.”

Now, of course, the life of a disciple is not an easy road.

Like your Master, as long as you are in this world, there will be suffering.

There will be misunderstanding.

There will be sacrifice.

There will be moments when faithfulness costs you something.

Matthias knew that. The Eleven knew that. The Church has always known that.

And they endured it the same way you do.

With peace.

Because the decisive burden has already been borne.

The weight that condemns you is gone.

The judgment that would crush you has fallen elsewhere.

The death that held you has been overcome.

So when suffering comes, it does not mean God has turned against you.

It means you are walking the path of your Lord.

And even that suffering becomes a witness.

If Christ were still in the grave, there would be no reason to endure anything for His name.

But because He is risen, because the crushing was finished and death was overcome, even your endurance testifies that He lives.

And like Matthias, most of that faithfulness will go unnoticed by the world.

Few of us will have our words recorded.

Few of us will stand at the hinge of history.

Our stories will pass quietly from this world.

But that is okay.

Because your obedience is not measured by earthly record.

It may be hidden from scribes and historians.

But it is not hidden from your Father.

The One who was crushed for you sees.

The One who bore the weight for you remembers.

And that is more than enough.

So take His yoke.

Follow Him.

Witness to Him.

Rest in Him.

For the burden that condemns has already been borne.

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