A Wee Little Man
Is. 1:10-18; 2 These. 1:1-4; Luke 19:1-10
Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender
Jericho, known as ‘the city of palms’ lies in the Jordan Valley, with the river to the east and Jerusalem to the west. Some claim it is the oldest city in the world. Beautiful trees, gardens and springs of living water. Joshua and his troops fought the Canaanites here, with the ancient walls of the city falling down. This, the first success for Israel’s takeover of ‘the Promised Land’, somewhere around 1400 BCE.
It is a place of healing blind men, the Good Samaritan is set upon- a person went down to Jericho, saved by a Gentile and now this.
He is really short. Really short! More importantly, he is really rich, like the top 1%. He’s heard of this itinerant preacher, wants to cast an eye on Him, maybe size up His strategies; how does he get people to go along with his scheme?
Jesus is just passing through. He set his mind on Jerusalem a while ago, nothing will deter Him from reaching there. His disciples try to talk Him out of it - they want to kill you!
His pathway narrows to the point of no return. Except for this moment.
A segue: Luke, the gospel writer, has little or no patience for rich people. Sit down and read the whole book in one setting and you will see what I mean. Rich man and Lazarus; rich farmer & barns he never gets to enjoy; rich young ruler who is unwilling or unable to sell all he has…the set up for this encounter does not bode well for the wee little man.
He is corrupt, no doubt about that. He’s a tax collector after all. Not like IRS Agents, more like crooked mortgage lenders or bank vice-presidents that add extra ‘items’ to your checking or debit account so you end up owing exorbitant fees. King Herod owns a beautiful palace in Jericho, which demands a lot of upkeep. Zacchaeus, with his plethora of guys who work for him, ‘collect taxes’ - for every little thing, always charges more, the perfect Ponzi scheme. He gets rich, very rich, off the exploitation of the poor. Not a likely candidate to be a good disciple.
A Wee Little Man.
He’s up a tree, the backs of the crowd block his view, scans the gathered, realizes Jesus stops! and looks up at him. Zacchaeus stops. He’s been running around, scheming, dreaming up more ways to get another 10^ out of the poor. All of a sudden salvation’s light shines on him: ‘hey, you up the tree. Come on down, I’m coming to your house for dinner and spend the night.’ (Along with His entourage btw. Jesus never seems to travel alone:)
What made Jesus stop? (Pause)
In a flash, Zacchaeus does what Isaiah instructed hundreds of years before: WASH YOURSELVES; MAKE YOURSELVES CLEAN; REMOVE THE EVIL OF YOUR DOINGS BEFORE MY EYES; CEASE TO DO EVIL, LEARN TO DO GOOD; and what is that good?
SEEK JUSTICE;
RESCUE THE OPPRESSED;
DEFEND THE ORPHAN;
PLEAD FOR THE WIDOW.
Before dinner is even served, he seeks forgiveness.
“1/2 my possessions to the poor; anyone I’ve robbed, I’ll pay back 4 times.” His declaration is a reiteration of Exodus 22:1 - “the thief shall pay 4 sheep for a sheep.” Zacchaeus admits to THEFT, not just exploitation. And the crowd goes wild! HMMMM
No we don’t. We grumble: ‘why is Jesus going off with him? Everyone knows he’s a sinner. We think Jesus should stay with us, we’ll fix him a good meal, our beds are very comfortable, everyone will be at ease.’
It just doesn’t work this way in the kindom. Salvation, embodied, sits down at the sinner’s table, ready for a good meal and a laugh, a hint of eucharist in the air. Z’s home has open windows. Folks can see right in - he and Jesus are having a great time.
Extravagant grace, generous, enough to go around. Like I said last week, enough for the murdered and the murderer.
No longer a wee little man, Zacchaeus is restored to full personhood. Remember? He is a son of Abraham and Sarah, part of the covenantal family that Jesus gathers in. Glory has come to him and his household. He promises to amend his life, to become generous in all ways, to no longer work for Herod, disrupts the fallen world.
Resurrected Life is what we call it. Suddenly ethics matter - your life must reflect your confession. Like Zacchaeus.
Mary hinted at this in her Magnificat: the hungry will be fed good things, the rich will go away empty handed. Not because they are rich, rather, wealth makes us think we make it on our own, no need of a Savior. Or a community for that matter.
Once again I have to ask: are you rich? Did any of your wealth come from exploitation of the poor? Are you called to be more generous because of your status in our particular economic framework that favors white people? Is there actions you can take to support distributive justice?
Your life must reflect your commitment to Christ. This is our forever challenge living in the United States as the wealth gaps get greater and greater and greater. (Pause)
Today, salvation has come. Jesus is calling us home. That niggle of confession, conviction, conversion, yeah, that’s Him. Whatever you need to do to set things right, do them. Today. Today the angels sing. Today, Scripture is fulfilled in our hearing. Today is our day of deliverance. Today.
You might have to climb a tree to catch a glimpse. You might have to bow down and admit you need a Savior. You might simply need to slow down and listen, rest in the assurance of the great pardon. For Jesus calls you, by name, initiates your salvation and sustains it, through the Holy Spirit. All He asks is you say thanks and invite Him to the table. Oh, and follow Him. To the crowded table with those sinners and tax collectors and prostitutes on Aurora Avenue. You might have to sit next to the Republican; or the Democrat. The banquet table of life is filled with delicious food and fine wine. A professor of mine, eating a heart healthy diet, always says, “When I die, I’m going to sit at the French end.”
Rooted in covenant, we remain called and connected and deeply loved, forgiven, named Beloved. Like Z, we are made whole. Amen