The Call of St. Matthew (Caravaggio)

When Jesus enters the room My hands are still on the money Fingers fiddling My mind distracted by it My soul oppressed by its demands My heart tangled in its deception Then glancing sideward I see the Hand outstretched Finger pointing like a new creation’s Dawning light And when He speaks It is clear that I cannot Serve both God and money It is He that I must follow However harrowed be my life I grow younger as I near Him A beauty ever ancient Emerges ever new Sitting with Him at table We sinners are drawn in To an intimacy Most Divine Mercy