SUNDAY SERMON
Proper 26, Year C
October 31, 2004
The Rev. Dr. Jerry Harber
Gospel: Luke
19: 1-10
Maybe you have read recently about the so-called check loan services in Memphis
and other major cities. These legal but predatory companies appeal to the unsophisticated
and financially desperate. They work something like this: you write them post-dated
check dated, say for $120, and they'll give you $100 today. A week later they
cash your check and you are out $20 in interest. And if you don't have the money
in a week, you write them another check for $120, plus a service charge. The
legal interest rate on such a transaction, even if you pay on time, is almost
250% a year! It's easy to feel outraged when we hear such a thing and probably
think the folks running those businesses are scum, or as Carla from Cheers
would have described them, "the scum, that scum scrape off their feet."
Imagine if you would, what your reaction would be if you'd used such a company and later got a phone call like this: "This is Acme Check Loan and as you know, you were a recent customer of ours. We should have only charged you $5.00 interest on that loan and we charged you $20, so we're going to refund four times the difference for a total of $60.00. We're sorry we cheated you. And we're not doing it again to anybody." It'd be hard to believe, wouldn't it? No doubt Zacchaeus got a lot of incredulous looks and unbelieving reactions as he went about the Jericho district doing exactly that. And more. He started by giving away half of his wealth to the poor, and then began to make right those he'd ripped off. I don't know about you, but I'd call that a real conversion experience. And though the Gospel only says that he makes the promise, I believe he delivered. What happened to him was too remarkable for him to fail to keep the promise or return to his old life.
In the Gospel reading, you heard the simple outline of the story describing how this change came about. But there is a small detail that needs emphasis and expansion. Zacchaeus' occupation as tax collector isn't incidental to the story. Had he been a barber or a potter, the story probably wouldn't even have been remembered. Nothing special about having dinner with such a person. But this was extraordinary because, you see, as a tax collector, he was an enemy collaborator, a thief, from the perspective of the religious folk, a damned sinner to boot. What an affront it is to the religious sensibilities of the time for Jesus, an apparently devout Jew, to invite himself to be a guest of such a man as Zacchaeus! And, in fact, the Jews witnessing this grumble among themselves, "There he goes again. Eating with sinners."
"There he goes again," because this isn't the first time he's done such a thing. Zacchaeus is not the first tax collector Jesus has befriended. But, what makes what Jesus' is doing particularly hard for the good Jews of the day is that eating together assumed that Jesus and Zacchaeus, the sinner, would bless the name of God together and, in doing that, show their common devotion to the God of Israel. Blessing God is natural for Jesus, but hardly what you'd expect from a sinner and cheat. But, Jesus, by inviting himself to dinner has brought Zacchaeus from his position as hated outcast back into the family of God. "He too is a son of Abraham," Jesus declares. Earlier in this Gospel, the disciples ask Jesus who can be saved. Zacchaeus, it turns out, is the unlikely answer to that question.
One of the fascinating aspects of this story is that Zacchaeus asks nothing of Jesus. His goal is just to see this man he's been hearing about. He figures if he scurries up a tree, then when Jesus passes by, he'll get his look. Just a look; that's all he's after. But what prompts him to only want to look? Here's my take on that and it's pretty simple: he couldn't imagine a holy man such as Jesus was reported to be to pay any attention to him at all. The very religious were those most likely to shun him and deal with him only because the Roman law required it.
It's a little bit like something I ran into years ago in my first parish. We had Communion only once a month, and I noticed that attendance would decline on that Sunday. As I tried to discover what was going on, it slowly became clear to me. People were a little afraid to encounter the Lord in the sacrament because of their sinfulness. They had taken Paul a little too literally when he talked about receiving communion in an unworthy manner. Zacchaeus couldn't have imagined Jesus speaking to him or even acknowledging him, so he didn't put himself in a place where he could be rejected. He'd endured enough of that already.
But Jesus is always able and willing to do more than we can ask or imagine. So he does the unimaginable and goes home with this notorious crook. And in response to Jesus, Zacchaeus does the unimaginable: he repents, helps the poor, and restores with interest all he had taken beyond what was his due. Great acts of love, it seems, evoke great acts of love. To use traditional or perhaps evangelical language, Zacchaeus let Jesus into his life.
There are two things about all this I'd like for us to carry away today. The first is that Jesus loves us, not because we are good and holy and pure, but because we're not. We weak, sinful, rebellious people who often refuse to listen to God are forgiven and loved, taken from our role as outcast and cast in the role of child of God. And God isn't just waiting for us to notice we need this to happen. God is actively taking the initiative, just as Jesus did. God is tugging at us in what many might call mystical moments, nudging us toward himself. God is whispering to us as we pray the prayers of the Eucharist, over and around the words that are so familiar. God is continually calling us to allow him to come home with us, to lodge in our hearts and our wills. It's astonishing, really when you think about it, because we're so likely to give up on those that don't listen to us or respond to us the way we wish they would. But our Lord never give up on us.
The second thing I'd like for us to carry away is this: when Zacchaeus realized what had happened, there was a great change in his life. When Paul talked about Jesus coming into a life, he said, the result would be to produce such a change that the person had to be described as a new creature. That is, he or she wouldn't be the same anymore. It would be a noticeable difference to all who knew this person, but perhaps even more important, it would be noticeable to the person to whom it happened. This is the mark of restoration- that like Zacchaeus, we behave differently. Someone recently told me she had to invite Jesus into her heart several times a day because if she didn't she could be a real-well, I won't use the word she used. She had experienced the difference it makes when we're aware that the Lord is lord of our actions and our lips. And she knew she was still becoming what Jesus had called her to be. She still needed him and had to make a conscious effort to feel his presence. She surprises herself when she feels his presence.
So here we are today, looking for Jesus, much as Zacchaeus did. And here we will encounter him and he will invite us to sup with him. What will we do in response to that affirmation and acceptance? Will we surprise anyone?