Sermons

“Admitting Our Shortcomings”

Psalm 23; Luke 19:1-10 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – November 10, 2019

 Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words, that the powerful might be brought low and the poor be lifted up.  In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

A few weeks ago, at our Regional Gathering in Fullerton, I had the pleasure of attending a Bible study led by the incomparable Daphne Gascot-Arias, pastor of Downey Memorial Christian Church.  I arrived late, of course, because they always seem to squeeze Bible study into the earliest time slot they think people might come for at these things.  But I was delighted when I finally got there to discover that we were exploring the story of Zacchaeus.  Much of what I have to say today is inspired by that conversation.

What surprised me about the discussion was how surprised Daphne was when she off-handedly mentioned the children’s song that goes with this story and the room erupted into song.  I don’t know why she didn’t realize everyone would know it, but I am committed to making sure that’s not a surprise for any of you.  I’m sure there are some in this room who’ve never heard the song about Zacchaeus or learned the hand motions, so the rest of us are going to sing it for you now!

“Zacchaeus was a wee, little man, and a wee, little man was he.  He climbed up in a sycamore tree, for the Lord he wanted to see.  And as the Savior passed that way, he looked up in the tree.  And he said, ‘Zacchaeus, you come down!  For I’m going to your house today, for I’m going to your house today.’”  It’s a good song, but it leaves out some of the most important parts.  I’ve always assumed that the song focuses on how small Zacchaeus was and the tree-climbing part because kids are short too and like climbing trees, so it helps them relate to a Bible character.  And the shortness is important, as we’ll see in a moment.  But it’s not the only important thing about Zacchaeus.

One of the things I love about this story is that there’s so much going on, in just ten short verses.  There’s a lot of action and a lot of unanswered questions.  I want to walk us through the four stages of this story today, and perhaps along the way, we’ll pick up some lessons for our own lives and our world.  The first stage really happens before the story gets started, which may be why it’s the most mysterious.  The thing that has happened before the narrative picks up is that Zacchaeus has decided he wants to go downtown to see Jesus.  It’s not clear why.  He was a chief tax collector and he was rich, so it probably wasn’t because he was seeking healing or justice or hoping for some loaves and fishes.  Was it idle curiosity?  Was he trying to figure out a way to make money off Jesus’ appearance in town?  Or, as the story eventually implies, is it because God had been working on his soul, helping him realize that all his riches have left him with an empty space in his heart?  He had to know the rest of the crowd were not big fans of his, so going down and getting in the mix took a certain amount of courage and determination.  It seems unlikely that he mingled with such crowds very often.  Did he know what he was getting himself into?  Did he even understand himself why he felt so compelled to see this Jesus person who was coming to town?  Whatever it was that God was doing in his heart, it worked.  Zacchaeus listened to that little voice trying to talk him into doing something out of the ordinary.

Has this ever happened to you?  Have you ever felt compelled to do something far beyond your routine, to go into places where you don’t usually hang out, for reasons you don’t quite understand?  Has it ever occurred to you that it might be God nudging you into that new thing?  Did you go?  Or did you ignore the work the Spirit may have been doing in your heart, in favor of the familiar and safe?  What can happen when we listen to the whispers of God, pushing us in new directions?  What blessings might emerge if we could be as brave as Zacchaeus?

The second stage brings us right back to the song we sang.  Zacchaeus chooses to climb a tree to get a better view.  We know, from the story and from the song, that he was having trouble seeing because he was “short of stature” or “a wee, little man” as the song puts it.  But what the song leaves out is that Zacchaeus was the chief tax collector.  Even if he was tiny, he had a lot of societal weight he could have thrown around.  If he’d wanted to, he could easily have pushed his way to the front of that crowd, throwing a few sharp elbows at people who were used to being pushed out of the way.  I’m fairly sure the crowd would have parted for him, if only because most of them were a little bit afraid of him.  But that’s not the path Zacchaeus chose.  And this is where it starts to become clear that a major transformation is about to take place.  It is, of course, still possible that Zacchaeus didn’t push to the front because he didn’t want the whole town to know just how excited he was to see Jesus.  Perhaps it wasn’t considered seemly for a man of his station to openly admit such interest and admiration for a rabble-rouser like Jesus.  But again, that isn’t where the story leads.  So we should probably look for another explanation.

Why does Zacchaeus climb a tree?  Because he’s short.  But in order for this wee, little man of dignified station to climb a tree, he has to first admit, at least to himself, that he’s too short to see.  The one thing about his life that puts him at a disadvantage, the one thing that’s always been true, the one thing that his money has never been able to fix, is the thing he has to face up to in order to do the thing he’s feeling compelled to do.  Is there something there?  Some lesson about deciding to stop hiding our weaknesses and vulnerabilities and embarrassments?  Something about how it’s only when we embrace the parts of ourselves we’re most ashamed of that we’re truly able to see and welcome Jesus into our lives?

Do you suppose Zacchaeus was hoping that once he was up in the tree, he could observe Jesus’ progress up the road sight-unseen, without too many townspeople noticing that rich jerk looking like a fool up in a tree like a child?  Stage three of the story makes clear that wasn’t what happened.  Jesus gets to the tree, and he stops.  And he looks up and calls Zacchaeus by name.  And suddenly, that foliage doesn’t seem like nearly the cover it did before.  Everyone is looking.  Everyone can see him, perched in a tree like some kind of monkey.  Everyone is now focused on the fact that rich, ol’ Zacchaeus is so short he had to climb a tree to see over the crowd gathered around Jesus, and he was excited enough about seeing him that he did.  All his vulnerabilities are laid bare in this moment, and Jesus moves on as if everything is totally normal.  “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.”

What?!  It’s a wonder Zacchaeus doesn’t fall out of the tree at this point.  It’s a wonder the grumbling from the crowd doesn’t shake him out of the tree.  Nobody saw this coming.  At the beginning of the story, we were told that Jesus was “passing through” Jericho, not coming to stay.  Apparently, the sight of this tiny, little tax collector, excited enough to scramble up a sycamore has motivated Jesus to change his plans.  Just as astonishing, Zacchaeus says yes.  There is more humiliation involved first, of course.  It’s a sycamore tree.  Do you know what happens when you try to come down a sycamore tree quickly?  That bark – that loose, brittle bark – it all comes down with you, showering tiny pieces of tree all over the Son of Man below you.  This is no graceful descent.  This is the physical humbling of a powerful, wealthy, but short man who didn’t even hesitate.  What on earth is going on here?

We’re back to the same question we started with.  Why did Zacchaeus want to see Jesus?  Why did he risk humiliation by climbing a tree instead of taking advantage of his elite status to snag a front-row seat?  Why did he respond immediately if awkwardly when Jesus changed his plans in front of the world and invited himself over to Zacchaeus’s house?  Can we believe that the grace of God is powerful enough to effect such transformation?  Can we believe that the charisma of Jesus’ love that drew the crowds – rich and poor, lowly and powerful – to him, was motivation enough for this wee, little tax collector to upend his entire life?  At this point in the story, maybe we can.  It’s an emotional response, right?  He was called by name, seen and counted on in a way he’d never been before.  It’s not that farfetched that the celebrity aura around Jesus could have that affect.

But then we get to stage four.  And here is where we see God’s plan for te whole world laid out in the last three verses.  Zacchaeus isn’t just having a personal change of heart.  He’s not just agreeing to host a dinner and have a special house guest.  “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.”  And some in the crowd are scoffing “If?  If he has defrauded anyone?”  But then they hear the end of that promise, and their jaws drop open speechless.  Four times as much?  After giving away half his wealth already?  Is he signing up for poverty?  He didn’t say he would quit his job, but if he’s going to stop defrauding people, it’s not going to be nearly as lucrative.  What kind of economic stimulus is this going to bring to the city of Jericho?  Where will Zacchaeus’s new place in it be?  What on earth is going on?

And then Jesus answers the question, the biggest question: “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.”  That’s what’s going on.  God is working in the world by bringing the powerful down from their thrones and lifting up the poor.  It’s not an abstract goal, seeking to change simply hearts and minds.  God doesn’t want the rich to be rich, if that means the poor are still poor.  The salvation being carried out here is both Zacchaeus’s and his former victims’.  The emotional transformation in stage three becomes salvation when it is followed up with the tangible change and economic response in stage four.

I think we can be clear that God started this process.  Whatever mysterious work of the Spirit was happening in Zacchaeus’s heart in the weeks before Jesus came to Jericho was how it began.  But if Zacchaeus hadn’t been willing to admit to and act upon his shortness of stature, Jesus might not have seen him and made the decision to change his plans so that salvation could come to the streets of Jericho.  The grace of God is spread all over this story, layers upon layers.  It’s the joyful center and the resounding edges.  And we access it when we’re willing to step into our most vulnerable selves, as Zacchaeus did by literally “going out on a limb”.

In a society with wealth disparities far wider than anything the people of Jericho could imagine, can we believe that the grace of God could still seep into the tiny cracks of the hearts of our titans of industry and oligarchic overlords?  Can we imagine them owning their shortcomings in such a way that they might be opened up to transformation?  Emotional impact maybe, but redistribution of wealth?  It’s hard to picture.  But this is why we keep telling the story of Zacchaeus.  So that we don’t give up on them.  So that we don’t give up on us, though we’re living this story on a much less fraught level.  All of us have vulnerabilities we’d just as soon keep hidden.  All of us have cheated on something at some point, whether there was a victim of our cheating or not.  All of us have been cheated out of something and scoffed and grumbled when people with more than us have been blessed.  The salvation in this story is a salvation we need still.

Even more importantly, the mysterious work of the Spirit and the charismatic love of Jesus are still working in our world today.  If we dare to go out on a limb, literally or otherwise, there’s no telling what God might do with us.  If we can live with the courage and hope this story offers, there’s no telling how our world might be transformed.  Alleluia and Amen!