Luke 19: 1-10
October 31, 2004
Elizabeth Macaulay
Have you ever felt
a sense of dis-ease?
While watching the
news about the ways the environment in South America is being destroyed to
produce products that make your life easier, have you ever felt dis-ease?
You know, then, the
way of Zacchaeus.
Have you ever tried
to avoid reading about or hearing about the plight of the poor in our midst,
because you feel so small in the midst of the so-much want, and you can’t solve
the problem anyway and have your bills to pay and your children to tend and
your career to advance and so you remain distant from the clamor of want because
it is too much for you?
You know, then, the
way of Zacchaeus.
Have you ever
volunteered at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter and felt somehow ashamed
because you have so much and cannot imagine how life could result in being so difficult
that finding a bed for a night in a homeless shelter is good fortune for all
too many?
You know, then, the
way of Zacchaeus.
Have you ever
traveled out of your country and found there hostility toward your home
land? Have you been made to feel like
you need to defend the policies of this country from the contempt or judgment
of others? Have you walked the streets
in Mexico or France or the Middle East and known the sense of being lumped into
an amalgam of what it is to be an American in the eyes of a world so profoundly
affected by the impact of our ways?
You know, then, the
way of Zacchaeus.
The gospel of Luke
has so much to share about the power of Jesus to heal the wounds we carry and
live with in our physical bodies.
This story of Zacchaeus,
the one we know as a “wee little man”, is the story of how it is Jesus seeks to
heal the wounds we carry and live with in our spiritual selves.
Through the years
we have made this story cute. Ah, a
short little guy –maybe like South Park’s Cartman- shinnying up a tree to see
Jesus. This morning, I want to unpack
this story and free it from the picture books we so love.
Luke begins his
story by telling us that Zacchaeus was a tax collector who had worked his way
up the ranks to become chief tax collector.
And he is described as a rich man.
He is a man with a
good Jewish name, a name that means “innocent” or “clean”.
He is a man, we
know, constantly made to live in the dis-ease created by his choices and the
company he kept. Because Zacchaeus was
a tax collector, he worked for the Roman government, collecting taxes that were
greatly resented by the people of occupied Israel.
The system was set
up in such a way that tax collectors had a set amount they were expected to
collect. Anything over and above what
was demanded by the Roman government was the tax collector’s to keep.
So in order for
Zacchaeus to be rich, he had to profit from the misery of those in bondage to
the power of Rome. His fellow citizens
knew that his having was born of their having not.
He was an outcast
among the people who created his wealth.
In the midst of that crowd, there was probably a discernable physical
and psychic space around this rich man who participated in a system that was so
painful to so many.
Did he know himself
to be in need of spiritual healing? We
don’t know. But we do know that he knew
the feeling of dis-ease, of amassing his wealth at the expense of the values he
was taught as a Jew. We can assume he
lived the dis-ease of knowing he did not live the power of his name: Innocent.
Zacchaeus was no
innocent. Did he get tired of dodging
the conflict between his name and his actions?
Is that why he
climbed the tree? Was he tormented by
the dis-ease that walked in his every step?
The resentment he saw in the eyes of others, the judgment he lived in
the solitary splendor of a wealth gained in ways contrary to holy teachings,
the loneliness of having so much and being cut off from the most basic good of
enjoying table fellowship with others?
We don’t know. What we do know is that he was willing to
park his pride, this man of wealth and privilege, and be willing to be seen
running and climbing a tree – most undignified for a man of his social stature
– to hear what Jesus had to say.
His sense of
dis-ease was desperate for healing.
Jesus passed his
way, looked up and must have seen in this rich man out on a limb a desperation
that prompted him to reach out:
“Come down,
Zacchaeus. Come down, you who have used
an oppressive system to your advantage.
Come down and join me and we will talk, we two, about how it is you can
be healed from this dis-ease. I will
enter your home, a place shunned by all, and I will stay with you, sinner that
you are, and heal your dis-ease. I will
teach through my actions that no one is outside of the power of forgiveness and
grace. Even you.”
So here is what I
think. Every Sunday when we come to
church, we are going out on a limb.
Every Sunday and
every day when we are willing to open ourselves to the touch and teaching and
presence of Jesus, we are going out on a limb.
We are
Zacchaeus. Because we too live in the
tension of not living the power of our names.
We are not known by the name Zacchaeus, but we are known by another
name, “Christian”.
And we know so
often the dis-ease of not living the power and promise of that name.
We, like Zacchaeus,
participate in and benefit from systems that are oppressive.
Making comments
like that can get a pastor snarled at, but tell me that it is not so.
We live in great
wealth. We have cars and fast food and
services available to us that are available because environments and
populations are manipulated to make our ease possible.
We get defensive
about our abundance and tell ourselves that we are not to be judged because of
our wealth and we resent being lumped with that scoundrel Zacchaeus because we
are not that way - - - but my brothers
and sisters, to the 2/3 of the world that services our way of life, we are that
way because we continue to participate in a way of living that allows poverty
and want to live on.
We are our
brother’s keeper. Scripture is so clear
on this. When we live as though we are
not, we know the pain of dis-ease in the honest places of our souls.
So we seek
healing. We go out on a limb and seek
in the teachings of Jesus a way to live our Christian name.
We come to church
and we live our lives seeking to live the power of our name.
When Zacchaeus was
invited by Jesus to be brought back into the community of grace, he responded
with wild joy. He was so grateful that
he showed through his actions the power of his gratitude.
He shared. He shared his gratitude and gifts through
giving what he ought – Jewish teachings instructed believers to make
restitution by paying back all that was taken, and 1/5 of that amount
beyond. Zacchaeus is so overwhelmed by
the joy of being a part of the Jesus way that he vows to give four times as
much as he is expected to give.
Jesus does not
demand this extravagance. Zacchaeus is
grateful to be able to offer it.
Through Zacchaeus,
we learn that the response to salvation is joy and generosity.
Through Zacchaeus,
we learn to take any sense of being wee that we have, and realize that because
Jesus claims us, we are called to lavish ways of living gratitude.
We cannot give back
enough.
Have you ever known
the wonder of being spiritually healed?
Have you wrestled
with addictions or other things that bind you?
Have you gone out on a limb and prayed to God for help and found through
that higher power healing?
You know the joy of
Zacchaeus, and you cannot live your thanks hugely enough.
Have you known what
it feels to be so alone and wretched and isolated that each day feels like
misery? Have you summoned the courage
it takes to go out on a limb and find faith community and found there that you
are not alone after all? That there are
lots of us wretches and saints seeking spiritual healing?
Well then, you know
the joy of Zacchaeus, and you cannot live your thanks hugely enough.
Listen to the story
of Zacchaeus:
Seek the courage to
notice the places of your dis-ease.
Bring them before
your God. On a tree limb, on your
knees, in a pew on Sunday morning.
Allow yourself to
be visited by the healing power of Jesus.
You are loved that much.
Live your thanks
every day of your life.
Give back more than
what is expected.
Give to life
lavishly.
Amen