+ When I was a little boy at the Lutheran
Church at which I grew up, we used to sing a little song in Sunday School. I
haven’t heard since then. I bet James knows the song. But it went like this:
Zacchaeus was a wee little man,
A wee little man was he.
He climbed up in the sycamore tree,
The Savior for to see.
In fact, I even remember an
illustration of Zacchaus for us little tykes. It showed this little man in a tree looking at
Jesus. It must’ve been the fact that he was “wee little man” that made him so
appealing to kids.
At the time, I was certain that
Zacchaeus was a munchkin of some sort. Of
course, the Bible and the Wizard of Oz were both equally meaningful to me at
that time (and at time both still are).
But his wee stature makes our Gospel
reading a seemingly pleasant story. We’ve
all heard this story of how Zacchaeus climbed the Sycamore tree to see Jesus. And on the surface, it really is a pleasant
story. It seems to be a story of faith
and persistence and how, with faith and persistence, Zacchaeus invited Jesus to
his home, which Jesus did and ate with him. A very nice story.
But…(there’s always a “but”) to truly
understand this story we have to, as we always and always should, put it within
the proper context of its time and its culture. When we do that, we find layers to this story
that we might not have seen at first glance.
The first clue that something more
is going on in this story is the fact that Zacchaeus is identified a chief tax
collector. And that he is rich. The fact
that he is rich is actually a bit redundant. The chief tax collector is, of
course, going to be rich.
But it isn’t that he’s rich that we
might find something deeper going on. The real big deal to this story is that
he is a tax collector. That’s important.
I don’t know if you remember our
Gospel story from last week—the story of the Pharisee and the—who?—the tax
collector? In that story, the tax collector went to heaven, the Pharisee went
to hell. This week, we have another tax collector.
The reason Jesus uses tax collectors
in this way is important. It’s important
because a tax collector at that time, in that culture, was one of the worst
people one could imagine, if you were a good Jew, that is.
On one hand, he was seen as a
traitor. He had sided with the occupying
government—the Roman government—and collected taxes from his own people to pay
the Roman government. These tax
collectors were also notorious for lining their own pockets. And this might be why there is mention of the
fact that he is rich. He, no doubt, was rich because he stole money from the
people. It was easy for tax collectors to
skim the coffers so they could keep what they wanted for themselves. And even if they didn’t resort to such
underhanded dealings, they were usually judged by the general population as
doing so. Certainly, no one trusted and certainly no one liked tax collectors.
But this wasn’t the end of
Zacchaeus’ troubles. Probably worst of all, Zacchaeus was seen as ritually unclean
by his fellow Jews. After all, he
handled the money of the Romans, which had on it, an image of the Emperor. Since the Emperor was viewed as divine, as a
god, what Zacchaeus was handling then was essentially a pagan image and to
handle it was to make one’s self unclean according to the Jewish Law.
So, Zacchaeus—poor Zacchaeus—was in
a lose-lose situation. He was despised
as being both a traitor and as being religiously unclean. And Jesus knew full well who Zacchaeus was and
what he stood for in his world when he called up to Zacchaeus in that tree and
said, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.”
Jesus knew full well that Zacchaeus
was unclean—nationally and religiously. Zacchaeus was an outcast. He was living in the fringes of his society. He probably had few friends—and the few
friends he had were no doubt friends with ulterior motives—friends who knew
they could get something out of Zacchaeus.
When we re-examine our Gospel story
again knowing what we know now, the story takes on a very different tone. It becomes less of a sweet, Sunday School
story about a short man and becomes quite a radical story. It shows us that Jesus truly was able to step
outside the boundaries of his day and reach out to those who truly needed him.
Now, for Zacchaeus, he does the
right thing. He says to Jesus that he
will not only pay back half of his possessions, but he even offers to pay back
four times the amount he stole. This is
really incredible because Jewish Law didn’t expect anything close to four times
the amount being paid back. In the 6th
Chapter of Leviticus, whenever anyone commits a trespass against God by
deceiving a neighbor in the a matter of a deposit or pledge or by robbery or if
one has defrauded a neighbor, the one who defrauded shall pay back the
principal and add one-fifth to it. (Leviticus 6.1-7)
But we know why Zacchaeus makes the
offer he does. For those of us who are
truly repentant, that’s what it feels like sometimes, doesn’t it? I often hear from people about how sorry they
are for this and for that. But on those occasions, when I am truly sorry—truly
repentant, truly striving to make right the wrongs I’ve done—I find myself
wanting to go above and beyond the call of duty. I want to make right the
wrongs I’ve done and feel as though it is truly right again. That is what
Zacchaeus is truly saying to Jesus. And
that is what we should be truly saying to Jesus as well when we turn away from
the wrongs we’ve done and attempt to do right again.
The story of Zacchaeus shows us that
sometimes Jesus must violate some social norms and even the popular
interpretation of scripture. Just by
going to Zacchaeus’ home, Jesus has made several major faux pas. He has talked with an unclean person. He has gone with this unclean person to the
house of the unclean person—a household which according to Jewish Law is
unclean as well. That means the
building, the wife, the children, anyone who enters it, is unclean.
So Jesus enters the unclean dwelling
of an unclean person. And what does he
do there? He probably goes there and he
probably eats there. Again, two more things the Law was clear were
wrong. Eating food prepared and served
by unclean people was unclean as well. And eating that food makes the clean
person unclean.
And yet, as we know, Jesus was not
made unclean by any of this. What in
fact happens? Jesus makes the unclean
clean. Jesus purifies this man, his
family, his house, his food—his life. The purification of Jesus was bigger than
anything anyone at that time could possibly understand. And even for us—now. His presence and his Word turns the
uncleanliness of that place into a place of redemption and joy. And that is how
this story for today really ends.
It’s never mentioned outside of the
fact that Zacchaeus is “happy to welcome” Jesus, but there seems to be an
almost palpable joy present in this story. The word Joy is never even used. But we know—we feel—that as this story ends,
there is a true and wonderful joy now living in that house of Zacchaeus because
of Jesus’ presence there. The lost have
been saved. The unclean have been
cleansed. The wrongs have been righted. See, this is what want for our story as
well.
No matter what we’ve done, no matter
how unclean we or the standards of our own day or society have made us, the
presence of Christ in our lives, the sound of his Word in our ears, redeems us.
With Christ, we have been found. With
Christ, joy has replaced whatever dark emotions lived within us at one time.
Those of who have climbed the
sycamore tree searching for Jesus, who have gone here and there searching for
him among the crowds, have not found his salvation in those places. Where have we found Jesus? Right here. In our
own homes—in our own place. Jesus comes
to us in a familiar place and we are better for it. Jesus comes and fills out
familiar places with joy. Jesus is still
saying to each of us today, “hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house
today.”
Our house is this life that we have.
It is this house he enters and dwells
within. And by his presence he purifies.
And fills with an almost palpable joy!
Today, at this altar, we will heed
that call. When we come forward for
Eucharist—when we come forward to eat his flesh and drink his Blood, we are
saying yes to his command that he must stay at our house today. And when we leave here and go into the world,
we do so knowing he has redeemed us and made us whole so that we can share that
joy we feel with others. And that we no longer see the uncleanness of others.
So, let us listen to his words to
us.
“Today salvation has come to this
house.”
That salvation he promises is with
us. Here. Now. Let us rejoice in that
salvation. And let that implied joy we find in our Gospel
story come bubbling up within us at this news so that when he comes to us we
will be overjoyed to welcome him.
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