You might be asking yourself right about now, what’s that
man doing up in that tree? I’m
Zacchaeus. Zac --if you’re my friend. I
don’t have many friends. Maybe you’ve
heard of me. If you have, it’s probably
from someone talking about what a bad person I am; how as a tax collector for
the Roman Government I’ve turned my back on my Jewish brothers and sisters in
order to line my pockets with other people’s money. But, maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ve heard of me
and my encounter with Jesus. The day
that changed my life forever. Most
people around here are still skeptical of my confession and conversion. Well, I’m still a little skeptical
myself. That’s why I’m sitting up here
in this sycamore tree again. Just trying
to see if I can hold on to that holy moment where the Son of God stopped here
and saw me, spoke to me. Invited me into
a relationship with him. I’m willing to
make changes in my life. It’s been a few months now and I’m trying.
I can’t really say what motivated me to leave my work and
try to see Jesus that day. Except that,
well, I hate to be left out of anything and everyone in town was lining the
street and chattering excitedly about this guy named Jesus. Apparently he’d been traveling from town to
town, stopping and healing people along the way. I heard that he’d even been having meals with
outcasts. So, I guess, I just wanted to
see what he looked like. I heard he had an
entourage traveling along with him. I
figured they must all be big, burly guys, tough fellows who sort of protected
him. Or maybe he paid them to travel
with him. I just figured he was a
magician with a few tricks up his sleeve maybe.
I had to admire a man like that.
I mean there were lots of people around claiming to be the Messiah. I had to admire his spunk for keeping it up
for so long…. I, too, have preyed upon the good will of the public to gain
power and prestige. I figured this Jesus
wasn’t any different. Maybe there would
even be something in it for me, if I saw some really crazy behavior I could
tell the Roman officials about it. Maybe
they’d pay me for information.
There was no way the people lining the streets were going to
let me stand in front of them so that I could get a good look at Jesus. They all hated me, and not without good
reason. I represented Rome to them. I
was the guy who took their money, gouged them for funds. It wasn’t always that way. But I needed money to take care of myself and
being a tax collector for a time seemed to be a pretty good way to get it. Over time, I saw other tax collectors
skimming a little more money from the top, and then a little more. I won’t lie to you, the power went to my
head. And the wealth I gained from my
behavior….well I was just too blinded by the coins to see how low I had really
fallen. So, anyway, I shimmed up this
tree so that I could get a good view of the whole scene. I wasn’t really that much higher up than
other people. Just enough that Jesus
could walk beneath this branch and look up at me. I really hoped he wouldn’t even see me or
acknowledge me. If he was a trickster
like I assumed he was, I didn’t want to make myself look any worse to my
neighbors. But, on the off chance that
he really was the Savior, I couldn’t risk the shame I was sure to feel if he
noticed me.
Have you ever tried to make yourself so small you’d
disappear? Have you ever just closed
your eyes and willed yourself to
become invisible? That’s what I was
doing when Jesus abruptly stopped beneath this branch and calmly looked up at
me. Our eyes locked for a moment and not
a word was spoken between us. As the
crowds began nudging each other and whispering harshly against me I thought
surely this would be the end of me. I
could tell immediately that this man was no magician. There was not a devious bone in his
body. His intense calm caught me off
guard. It was all true, I knew it in an
instant-- this man was the Messiah. And
he was staring at me! “Zacchaeus,” he said a steady voice, he knew my
name! “Zacchaeus,” he said, “Come on
down from there, I’m going to come to your house for supper this day.”
Had I heard right?
Jesus was inviting himself to my home for dinner? Folks, he may not have been swindler as I had
first presumed but he had every bit of self-assurance I expected him to
have. You see, in our tradition, you do
not invite yourself into someone else’s home, but you wait to be invited. And if you break bread together, it means
that you have accepted one another. You are
kindred. You are friends. The Messiah wanted to eat with me! All the people within hearing began to
protest. They called out to Jesus, bringing to bear all of my sins, hurling
insults at me. All of which, I now see,
I deserved. I clamored down the tree and
once again, to my amazement, my confession simply poured out of me. It was as if I was overcome with such emotion
that I could not contain myself, my absolute soul needed to be laid bare before
this man. “Lord, look, please!” I threw myself at his feet. “Here and now I will give half of everything
I own to the poor. If any of these
people I have cheated, out of anything, I will give them back four times the
amount I stole.” I meant this, oh yes I
did, because I wanted so much…. I needed so much, for this man to help restore
me to the person I once was. I wanted to
feel the love and respect of Jesus.
Do you know what he did?
Jesus placed his hand on my shoulder, even as I was shaking like a leaf,
tears streaming down my face. Right
there in front of everyone, all of the people I had wronged these last few years,
Jesus showed me grace and mercy. He
reminded the people, and me, most importantly, that I am a son of Abraham
too. No matter how lost I had become. Jesus lifted me to my feet and said,
Salvation has come to this house, because I have come to seek and to save the
lost.”
I was forgiven. My
life could begin anew. Jesus came into
my home and we broke bread together before he and his disciples went on their
way. He told me he was headed to
Jerusalem. I have to wonder why he would
go there, when it seems such a dangerous place for him to be. The day of Passover is only a few days
away. I will celebrate this Passover in
a way that I have not for many years, trusting in God’s love for me. And I will
bring food and goods to other people in this community who are suffering, so
that they can celebrate too. And each
time I break bread, I will remember eating with Jesus. And when I am tempted to go back to the life
I once led, I will return to this old tree.
And I will pray that God would give me the strength to follow in his
ways, to live by the lessons Jesus shared with me. I will confess my sinfulness
and be washed anew in his grace.
You know what? I bet you could too. I bet you could also find yourself made new
in the grace of Jesus Christ. No one is
perfect. We are all broken. We all have sins we’d rather not
confess. But, if we can find a way to
purge ourselves of what is dark within us….if we can then strive to live a life
filled with compassion and love in response to God’s mercy…well then we are
doing the best that we can do. And one of the best gifts about being a follower
of Jesus is that you do not have to do any of it alone. It is not easy-- going back to what is
comfortable, or profitable, or relying only on ourselves is often the simpler
path we think we can take. But, I am
here to tell you, what is right is not always what is easy. Jesus came to seek
out and to save the lost. That is you. That is me.
He is extending his hand. All we
must do is accept it. Amen.
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