“Terrific” is not a word that I use often, but
you can see how it fits here. Zacchaeus had the most remarkable moment of his
life in the passage we heard this morning. If he had spoken English, he might
have said, “Wow! That was terrific!” As it is, whatever he said was in Hebrew
or Aramaic (something like “Metzuyan!” according to Google translate), and we
would not have known what he said if we had heard him. What was so wonderful,
so amazing about this encounter with Jesus? Let’s look together at this
familiar story and see where it takes us.
The Story
We don’t know very much about Zacchaeus. From
the song many of us learned as children, we know that he was short – “Zacchaeus
was a wee, little man and a wee, little man was he.” This sets us up to think
of him as not very important. I am a little sensitive about my height – not
very, but a little. I remember when someone I met called me by another friend’s
name, my first internal reaction was, “Don’t call me that! He’s really short!”
I can sympathize a bit with Zacchaeus in his lack of height.
The fact is, however, that he was probably a
fairly important person. As the head of the tax bureau in Jericho, a fairly
wealthy city, he had political power and influence, as well as a lot of money
himself. When people saw him, they probably thought more about his wealth than
about his height. He reminds me of the subject of one of Simon and Garfunkel’s
early songs:
They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town,
With political connections to spread his wealth around.
Born into society, a banker’s only child,
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style.
It’s a depressing poem, revealing the emptiness
that lies beneath a surface of glitter and wealth. This reality is a perennial
human reality. Paul Simon wrote the song in 1965, and he based it on a poem by
Edwin Arlington Robinson, written in 1897. This same reality was present when
Jesus walked the earth, and it is part of our own lives in the 21st
Century. Real life is deeper and more vital than the surface of what Richard
Foster calls “money, sex, and power” – the title of one of his books on
Christian discipleship.
These three aspects of life are the most common
ways that human beings try to give meaning to life. Money, sex, and power are
good things. They are God’s gifts to us in this life, but when we make any of
them the goal of life, they lead to nothing; they leave us empty. We need
something else at the centre of our lives. Zacchaeus had money and power, but
they were not enough. He knew they were not enough.
Luke doesn’t tell us more, but we know this
much. Zacchaeus had money. Zacchaeus had influence and power. But Zacchaeus’s
life was empty, and he knew he needed help. When he heard that Jesus was coming
through Jericho, he joined the crowd who was hoping to see this travelling
teacher and miracle worker. He reminds me a bit of the woman who had “an issue
of blood” (whom Bev preached on a few weeks ago): If I can just see him, I may
learn something.
But he was short, too short. He saw a sycamore
tree by the road, handy and easy to climb. I don’t know if climbing a tree was
seen as dignified in those days, but I suspect that it wasn’t. Dignity was not
on his mind at that moment, and he climbed the tree. This would give him more
than a glimpse; he expected to see Jesus well.
Well, he did! He got more than he could have hoped.
Jesus stopped under the tree, looked up and invited himself to Zacchaeus’
house. The old Sunday School song says, “I’m coming to your house today.” I
learned it as “I’m coming to your house for tea”, which tells you that I grew
up in an English colony where we did everything over a cup of tea. Given his
culture, I suspect that Zacchaeus provided wine and olives and figs and bread.
The story tells us that Jesus went to
Zacchaeus’ house, while the crowd grumbled that a teacher of Jesus’ reputation
should not be the guest of so obvious a sinner. They saw Zacchaeus as a
traitor. He was a Jew by birth, but he served the Roman Empire. His name means
“Innocent”, but he was guilty of cheating many people in the whole community.
Rome told him how much he needed to bring in through taxes; as the “chief tax
collector”, he mobilized the machinery of the Empire to bring in more than that
and took his cut off the top. How could Jesus compromise himself by inviting
himself to the home of such a corrupt man?
Zacchaeus responded quite differently than the crowd had. We don’t
hear what Jesus said to him, but the previous chapter in Luke 18 gives us an
idea of what he might have said. The rich young ruler could not part with his wealth to follow Jesus, and
instead he parted with Jesus rather than leave his wealth. Zacchaeus states his
readiness to follow Jesus with two powerful declarations: “Look, half of my
possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of
anything, I will pay back four times as much.” He does not say, “I give
everything away.” He does say, “I will cheat no one again, and I will pay back
anyone I have cheated.” The “four times as much” makes it clear that Zacchaeus
had considerable resources and that he was not trying to save something for
himself. He was ready to follow Jesus, no matter what it cost.
Jesus’ final comment is interesting: “Today
salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the
Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” Here he says that God’s
salvation is present when Zacchaeus shows that he means business. Zacchaeus
steps out in faith, and Jesus confirms his step. The step includes “his house”,
which suggests a fuller understanding than the individual salvation we normally
think of. Real freedom in Christ is both individual and communal.
Working Out
What This Means
To understand the essence of what happened, I
turn to an idea that I have described before. You can think about your life as
a story, and we must choose who we want to write our story. There are not many
real choices in this life. I did not choose my height; it was given to me
without my consent. I have some control over my weight, but even that depends partly
on genetics, not just on how much I eat. The colour of my hair, my personality,
my love of music – all of these were given to me. I work with them, and I can
change them to some extent, but I did not choose them. There is, however, one
real choice that each of us must make: Who will write our story?
In the end, this choice comes down to two basic
possibilities. Either I insist on writing my own story, or I allow God to write
the story of my life for me. Most people insist on writing their own story. You
know the 1969 Paul Anka song (Anka was a Canadian songwriter), which Frank
Sinatra made famous:
And now the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I’ve travelled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
There speaks the voice of Canada: I want to do
it my way. I want to write my own story. The Mamas and the Papas described the
same idea in a hit from 1965: “You gotta go where you want to go/ Do what you
want to do/ With whoever you want to do it with.” These songs are from the
1960s, and children of the Sixties believe this completely: I want to be in
charge of my own life.
Zacchaeus had made his choices and written his
own story, but he found that the result was an inner emptiness. In another song
from the 1960s, Peggy Lee describes that emptiness with the eloquence of
despair:
I remember when I was a very little girl, our house caught on
fire
I’ll never forget the look on my father's face as he gathered
me up
in his arms and raced through the burning building out to the
pavement
I stood there shivering in my pajamas and watched the whole
world go up in flames
And when it was all over I said to myself, is that all there
is to a fire
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball
If that’s all there is
She describes a full life, each time returning
to the empty refrain. The whole sets to music the old saying, “Eat, drink, and
be merry, for tomorrow we die.” I believe that this describes what Zacchaeus
had learned about life, and this is why he climbed a tree to see Jesus. And
Jesus found him! When Jesus found him, Zacchaeus gave up the right to write his
own story and became part of God’s story. He gave up the right to organize his
own life and received God’s life.
What Did Jesus Say?
Jesus said, “Today salvation has come to this
house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out
and to save the lost.” Luke doesn’t tell us exactly what happened to trigger
this announcement. What happened that led Jesus to announce salvation? What did
Jesus say to Zacchaeus that led him to his decision. What did Zacchaeus do that
showed that he was saved? If we look at this question through the lens of
story, we can ask who Zacchaeus wanted to write the story of his life. He had
gone his own way for many years, and he didn’t like the story he was in. He was
alone and lost, and he knew it.
Although we don’t know what Jesus said, we do
know that he usually said just one thing when people asked how they could be
saved: Follow me! That’s what he said to the Rich Young Ruler in the previous
chapter: “Sell what you have and give to the poor and follow me.” When it came
to the point, the young man could not give up his wealth and make Jesus the
author of his story. Zacchaeus could and did.
This offer of salvation combined with
Zacchaeus’ embrace of salvation is seen in his willingness to give up
everything to make things right and follow Jesus. I think the key to the whole event
was that he stopped trying to write the story of his own life and stepped into
God’s story.
Shakespeare has expressed what Zacchaeus may
have felt in lines that his character MacBeth speaks (Act 5, Scene 5):
To-morrow, and
to-morrow, and to-morrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last
syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to
dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is
a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
That
speech of course comes from someone who knows his life is about to end. He
knows that he will die, and that his life has meant nothing. But all of that
changes when we meet Jesus. Our lives belong to God, who writes the play and
gives our lives meaning.
Writing
about the Second Coming, C.S. Lewis has described what it means to know that
God has written the story in which we live. Listen to how he puts it:
The doctrine of
the Second Coming teaches us that we do not and cannot know when the world
drama will end. The curtain may be rung down at any moment: say, before you
have finished reading this paragraph. This seems to some people intolerably
frustrating. So many things would be interrupted. … Not now, of all moments!
But we think thus
because we keep on assuming that we know the play. We do not know the play. We
do not even know whether we are in Act I or Act V. The Author knows. The
audience, if there is an audience (if angels and archangels and all the company
of Heaven fill the pit and the stalls), may have an inkling. But we, never
seeing the play from outside, never meeting the characters except the tiny
minority who are “on” in the same scenes as ourselves, wholly ignorant of the
future and very imperfectly informed about the past, cannot tell at what moment
the end ought to come. That it will come when it ought, we may be sure; but we
waste our time in guessing when that will be. That it has a meaning we may be
sure, but we cannot see it. When it is over, we may be told. We are led to
expect that the Author will have something to say to each of us on the part
that each of us has played. The playing it well is what matters infinitely.
Lewis’
point is that our lives find meaning as part of God’s story. If we refuse to
play our part, our lives are meaningless – “full of sound and fury, signifying
nothing”. Zacchaeus chose to be part of God’s story, to follow Jesus, to do
what God called him to do. He no longer cared if he had the money to pay Rome.
He could do his job, and he could do it well; but what mattered most was to
know Jesus and to follow Jesus and do what Jesus called him to do. Now his life
had meaning. Now God had found him and saved him. What about you? What about
me?
28 June 2020
Steinbach Mennonite Church
Texts:
Psalm 119: 137-144
137 You are righteous, O Lord, and your judgments are right.
138 You have appointed your decrees in righteousness and
in all faithfulness.
139 My zeal consumes me because my foes forget your
words.
140 Your promise is well tried, and your servant
loves it.
141 I am small and despised, yet I do not forget your
precepts.
142 Your righteousness is an everlasting
righteousness, and your law is the truth.
143 Trouble and anguish have come upon me, but your
commandments are my delight.
144 Your decrees are righteous forever; give me understanding
that I may live.
Luke 19: 1-10
2 comments:
Well, Lois is right...you do quote a lot of songs/poems.
Do you recall Dad didn’t like “I did it my way” or “Is that all there is?”
Had to work in a Canadian song writer, eh?
I didn't know that Dad didn't like these songs. According to Wikipedia, Frank Sinatra also came to dislike "My Way" -- he felt it was too self-centred.
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