Zacchaeus was a wee little man, a wee little man was he
He climbed up in the sycamore tree
For the Lord he wanted to see
And as the Saviour passed him by he looked up in that tree
And he said, “Zacchaeus! You come down, for I’m going to your house for tea.
I’m going to your house for tea.
And that, my friends, is the extent of thought and energy I have ever put into the story we heard read from the Gospel of Luke this morning. Zacchaeus was short, he climbed a tree, Jesus invited himself over for a meal, and by the time dessert was being served, the sinner had turned saint. For the most part, Zacchaeus, has been for me, this rather small, innocuous “wee little hairy man” whose appearance in the gospel acts like a nice little conversion story that just kinda happens as Jesus is on route to make his entry into Jerusalem and to kick of the events of Holy Week.
But the truth is that while Zach might have been short in stature he was not short on power. We know he is a tax collector, and not just any ordinary ol’ collector, he was CHIEF TAX COLLECTOR. In case you were wondering or happen to forget why it’s important for us to know what Zach’s occupation was, tax collectors were not beloved people in the community. Tax collectors were Jewish people who worked for the Roman empire, who just happened to be the occupiers of Israel. So he collected taxes from his own community and gave the money to the oppressors which made the tax collectors deeply unpopular. To pay taxes to a foreign ruler, as you can imagine, was not something people wanted, could afford, nor did they get anything out of it. It really was a form of extortion. So, the Zach’s community resented and as such tax collectors were considered traitors to their own people and faith.
To make matters worse, the Roman empire did not pay the tax collectors a fixed salary, so in order to earn a wage the collectors were permitted to collect more than the Roman tax system required with the tax collector keeping the excess money for themselves. This created a system rife with theft, fraud, and corruption – especially because the Rome didn’t care what happened to the Jewish people as long as they got their fair share of the money. And with Zacchaeus being a chief tax collector, his wealth had been amassing wealth on the backs of his neighbours for years, lining the pockets of the cronies around him, and kowtowing to the Roman Authorities in order to gain privilege.
Here’s a little bit of irony that wouldn’t have been lost on anyone during Zach’s lifetime… the root of his name in both Hebrew and Greek means “righteous” or “Pure, innocent.” Kathleen Norris notes that “righteousness is consistently defined by the prophets and in the psalms and gospels as a willingness to care for the most vulnerable people in a culture characterized in ancient Israel as orphans, widows, resident aliens (immigrants) and the poor. Much of the fabled wrath of God in the Hebrew Scriptures is directed against those who preserve their own wealth and power at the expense of the lowly.” So Zacchaeus was nothing close to being a righteous person. And EVERYONE knew it.
Naturally when Jesus looked up into that fated sycamore tree to spot the branch perched Zach, the crowds response was predictable. According to Luke, “they began to grumble saying, “he’s gone to be the guest of the one who is a sinner.’” Now at this point in the story we roll our eyes a little…it feels a bit like they might be miffed about Jesus hanging out with Zach instead of with them or at the very least someone that they might approve of. It’s a bit petty.
But I want you to take a moment to close your eyes and think of the worst person you have known or do know now. A person who is cruel, selfish, greedy, untrustworthy. A person who does everything they can do to lift themselves up without thought or care of the consequences or the ripple effects it might have in the community around them. In theory, Zacchaeus is that kind of person, and that it who Jesus invites himself to spend time with. And I have to tell you, when I think about Jesus going to hang out with the person who popped into my head, well, it sets me a grumbling too. Along with the grumbling I would be holding out hope that maybe by choosing to hang out with the person, he might give a very public dressing down. But much to the crowd’s disappointment, and ours, that doesn’t happen.
So far in our Lenten explorations we have seen how Jesus is constantly lifting those whom the world condemns or ignores into the love and grace of God. The Samaritan, the seemingly lazy sister, the unproductive fig tree, the lost sheep…but today is different. You see all those other stories the main characters had some sort of redeemable quality in an underdog but decent kind of way. But Zacchaeus is different… he’s a traitor and thief… it’s like playing one of those “one of these things is not like the others” game.
There is so much about this story that seems unlikely: that a tax collector would want to see Jesus, let alone climb a tree in order to do so, that Jesus would even notice him up there clinging to the branch hidden behind the fig leaves, that Jesus wanted to stay at his home even though he knew it would it would cause a stir, that the brief encounter they had would be enough to cause Zacchaeus to change his ways, that his declaration of good behavior would bring blessing not only to him but his entire household. And yet all of this is what we are offered in the story and asked to accept – an unlikely story of God’s mercy and grace unfolding within the life of a man everyone detests.
Perhaps it is the way Rev. Elizabeth Kaeton describes. She wrote: “I imagine that when Jesus looked up into that sycamore tree and saw Zacchaeus, he saw the longing and desire in his heart… he looks deeper and sees the poverty and hunger in this man’s soul. He can see the dejection and rejection and judgment this man has endured – along with the sadness that must have been in his heart. I believe that’s where Jesus begins with each of us – looking beyond the externals and judgments of others and looking, instead, deep into our souls. And, in the process, we are healed of the spiritual blindness – in ourselves and about others.”
Maybe it was that way. Maybe Jesus looked up, saw him, understood why he was the way he was, felt compassion for him. Or maybe he looked up, saw him, saw the thief and the traitor, and thought, “You know, you can do better.” Either way, what this story points to, what it all comes down to is, mercy. Why it’s hard to hear or understand is because mercy isn’t something our society respects very much. We didn’t respect it 2000 years ago and we don’t always today, especially when its gifted to someone we don’t think deserves it. Think back to that person you brough to mind early, do you feel in your heart that deserve God’s mercy?
Nadia Bolz Weber wrote: “I can’t imagine how infuriating it was for his followers when Jesus never seemed to stick to the script they kept handing him. Every time they wanted him to kick ass and take names for their cause he kept inviting the absolute wrong people over for dinner like he didn’t understand the rules. Were I one of his early followers I’d for sure take him aside and be like: ‘maybe tone down the hospitality and forgiveness of sins stuff, Jesus. We don’t want people to think you’re just letting everyone off the hook. But friends, our love of hooks has never healed us in the way mercy has.”
And that’s the thing, mercy isn’t about a human reaction to other human’s behaving poorly. Mercy is about God’s reaction to each one of us as we live and move in this world. Mercy is about God’s desire to keep our relationship with Godself steadfast. Mercy is about God’s hope that with enough love, compassion, and opportunity, we can all find the healing we need to be better disciples of Christ. Richard Rhor wrote “Mercy is a way to describe the mystery of forgiveness. More than a description of something God does now and then, [mercy] is who God is… the word is hesed in Hebrew, and it means steadfast, enduring, unbreakable love.”
So whether it is you or me, or the person you had in your head, or Zach up in that tree, when it comes to God that love it is unbreakable. And sure, we may not like it when someone we detest is offered mercy it may do us well to remember that none of us deserves mercy. None of us can earn it, win it, fight for it, buy it, negotiate for it. Mercy is a free gift give to us from God. All we need to do is hurry down from the tree and embrace it. And if nothing else that’s what Zacchaeus did. He scrambled down from the tree, spent some time in the presence of Christ, and vowed to live a better life.
Rhor continues “we do not attain anything by our own holiness but by ten thousand surrenders to mercy. A lifetime of received forgiveness allows us to become mercy. Mercy becomes our energy, our meaning. Perhaps we are finally enlightened and free when we can both receive mercy and give it away – without payment or punishment.”
Too often I think we mistake righteousness for perfection. But that’s not an accurate or fair definition. Even those we assume are the most righteous among us, Mother Teresa, Gandhi, Mandela, even they had their faults and serious imperfections. Even they required mercy. So for me today, where I think I land between the righteous and mercy sign posts is in this in-between place where I have to trust that when one has an encounter with God one’s heart is changed. I must believe that God’s spirit is moving and acting in this world, and that even the most horrifically horrible people can be transformed by the grace and mercy of God. I have to hold on to my faith that God, while not causing chaos, is able to move within it, bringing some sort of sense or order or healing to our broken hearts, our overwhelmed minds, our chaotic world So that in time, we might all sit between righteousness and mercy, and find peace. Amen.
