November 4, 2001
Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
Luke 19:1-10
In the early sixties, during the Kennedy administration, John Bedo was our ambassador to Egypt - a very sensitive and important post, both then and now. One day he wanted some lights strung high in the embassy garden, but the gardener couldn’t quite position them just the way Bedo wanted. Finally the ambassador himself climbed into a large tree where he could reach the lights and get them positioned properly. End of story. Well, not quite.
Two days later he had a meeting with Egyptian President Nassar. He came into the president’s office and sat down, but Nassar just stared at him without saying a word. Finally, with a tone of amazed disbelief in his voice, he asked Bedo, “Did you climb a tree in the backyard of the embassy?”
Now in asking this question, Nassar essentially acknowledged that the gardeners were his spies. Anything they saw or heard they reported. Why would Nassar reveal this? Because he could not believe - could not imagine - that the ambassador of the United States of America would allow himself to be seen in a tree. In the Middle East, grown men do not climb trees. It is a dishonorable thing to do and in that society, which is very much an honor and shame society, honor must be maintained at all costs. One does not bring shame on oneself, one’s family, one’s village. And so, grown men do not climb trees. Hiking up one’s robe and getting into a tree just isn’t done!
This tells us just how desperately Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus. Zacchaeus - a corrupt tax collector, a Jew working for the Roman oppressor, a traitor cheating his own people. Not the most popular guy in town. They hated him and he hated them, no doubt with a good dose of self-hatred thrown in as well. Jesus comes to town and Zacchaeus climbs a tree to see him; risks public humiliation. Just imagine what they might have said to him - “look at the traitor up in a tree; why don’t you stay up there, it’s a good place for you; a man who will work for Rome will do anything.” What did Zacchaeus want? Why take such a risk? Was he simply curious? Maybe he thought no one would see him up there. But Jesus sees him.
Jesus, of course, could have ignored him, just gone on - who has time for a dishonest little two-bit traitor humiliating himself up in a tree? Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem where he has far bigger fish to fry. Jesus could have given him the familiar lecture - Zacchaeus, the people are angry with you for good reason; you have violated the religious law, you have defrauded your neighbors, you need to repent - turn your life around. I once read that many, if not most, people in churches learned to resist ministers’ stewardship letters and pleas for money long ago. Well, in like manner, Zacchaeus had heard this lecture many times and learned to resist; had no doubt polished his rationalizations and self-justifications to a fine shine. Or Jesus could have simply condemned him, much as he condemned the scribes and Pharisees - “You hypocrite. Do you possibly think you have any chance of entering the Kingdom of God?” Yes, Jesus could have done all that and more. But, being Jesus, he does the unexpected.
Another word about mideast culture. A guest in the village is hosted by the entire village. Village honor is at stake. Thus the village decides where a guest will stay and where that guest will eat. A famous rabbi like Jesus would be put up in one of the finer homes in town. Again, honor and proper hospitality demanded nothing less. But as the village is making its plans, what does Jesus do? “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.”
Jesus announces that he will stay in the home of the outcast, the traitor, the one who is unclean. I suspect even the dogs stopped barking when Jesus made this astounding announcement. In this honor/shame culture, Jesus has dishonored the entire village. And the people grumble, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner”. Now they are as angry at Jesus as they are at Zacchaeus. In Jesus’ ministry, it is yet another costly demonstration of unexpected, generous love. It’s the shepherd going after one lost sheep; it’s the father of the prodigal running down the road to embrace a son who has disgraced him; it’s a cross on a windswept rock.
But look what this costly demonstration of love, this extravagantly generous gift, does for Zacchaeus. He knows what Jesus has done; he knows the risk Jesus has taken . . . for him, the most undeserving of all people. The generous love of Christ opens all kinds of new possibilities for this man whose inner life had been as small as his physical stature. Expecting rejection, he receives acceptance; expecting condemnation, he receives grace; expecting only death, he receives new life. “Today salvation has come to this house . . .” He can hardly believe his ears. The hope of the Kingdom of God has been extended to him, even to him:
I’m so glad, Jesus lifted me,
I’m so glad, Jesus lifted me,
I’m so glad, Jesus lifted me,
Singing glory hallelujah, Jesus lifted me.
When I was in trouble, Jesus lifted me.
When I was in trouble, Jesus lifted me,
When I was in trouble, Jesus lifted me,
Singing glory hallelujah! Jesus lifted me.
Have you ever been lifted up? Ever had a time in your life when you felt so beaten down, so tired, you were sure you couldn’t take another step? But somehow you found the strength to take one more step? Ever had a time in your life when you felt you couldn’t face one more day, that it was all just going to overwhelm you and there was nothing you could do to stop it. But somehow you found the strength and courage to face that one more day and many days after. Have you ever been lifted up? Then you have a good idea of just what Zacchaeus was thinking and feeling as he sat there with Jesus. And for him, having directly experienced the uplifting generosity of Christ, life would never be the same again.
“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.” A reality check. No way Zacchaeus would ever pay back fourfold those he had defrauded. He had cheated so many people that there would never be enough money for him to fulfill that pledge. But that isn’t really what matters here. What matters is that this man who had lived in isolation and hate for so long was now saying, “I have never cared for these people before, but from this time forward I am seriously going to try. And as best I can, I am going to make things right.” Generosity has produced generosity; love has produced love. A closed fist has been replaced by an open hand, and again, not just one life, but an entire community has been forever changed.
I suppose I will keep writing my stewardship letters, because that is something ministers do. And I suppose many of you will continue ignoring or resisting those letters because that is what church members do. But your response to my letters and pleas is not the issue here. Rather the issue is this . . . do we see ourselves anywhere in this familiar Biblical story? For the same love, acceptance, and grace poured out on Zacchaeus has been poured out on each of us. We too are the recipients of new life, new hope, new possibilities. We know how Zacchaeus responded to this utterly amazing good news. For him, having so powerfully experienced the generosity of Christ, the only way for his life to make any sense was to be generous in return.
But we aren’t him. We are us. The times are different, the world is different, we are different. But the issue remains persistently the same. How do we choose to respond? With all we have received from God’s generous hand, how do we choose to respond? We, who have so often been lifted up, how do we choose to respond? Don’t answer too quickly. Give it some thought. For as Zacchaeus discovered, it just might be the most far-reaching, life-changing decision we ever make.