Sermon for November 24th, 2024

Luke 19:1-10

19 He entered Jericho and was passing through it. 2 A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. 3 He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. 4 So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. 5 When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” 6 So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. 7 All who saw it began to grumble and said, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.” 8 Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “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.” 9 Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he, too, is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

Zacchaeus' Sacrifice: Seeing the Lord

What? It's not easy being a wee little man!

I'm Zacchaeus. Yes, yes, I know, the name is longer than the person. I've heard that one before. I suppose next you'll be telling me that I'm a real down-to-earth kind of guy, or that I never look down on anyone (because I can't). Well please don't stoop to my level. Although...did you hear the one about the short psychic who escaped from jail? She was a small medium at large!

Seriously though, of all the things I dislike about my size (it's actually a pretty short list!) the worst is that it's harder to see, or to be seen in the world—you either get stepped on by the crowd, or else you get stuck in the top of a tree.

What do you see when you look at me? Do you see a man small in stature or a man great in generosity? Do you see an important man? A wealthy man, perhaps? Or just a wee little man stuck in a treetop?

People see what they want to see.

That crowd back there, they look at me, and all they can see is ἁμαρτωλῷ (hamartolo). A wretched sinner.

I know most of them well enough. I go to church with them, at the Jericho Presbyterian Church. Simon the shepherd over there, he works for the grocery store. So does Jacob the fisherman. Both of 'em, dirt poor. Ruben the blacksmith over there, he works for the chariot dealership. He does alright, thanks to all the Romans here now. It's no sin to sell things to the Romans. Only to work for them.

Which brings us to me. I work for the IRS. The Imperial Revenue Service. In other words, the Romans. So, that makes me a wretched sinner. ἁμαρτωλῷ.

People see what they want to see.

The first time I ever laid eyes on this tree, what I wanted to see was the Lord. Jesus of Nazareth had just arrived in Jericho, and everyone was saying that he could be the long-awaited מָשִׁ֫יחַ (mashiach), messiah, the Lord.

A dense crowd gathered around him, and I tried to make my way through it, so I could see—but I could not. Too short!

"Get back, ἁμαρτωλῷ! Why would the מָשִׁ֫יחַ want to see a little sinner like you? Go home!" And then I saw the tree. A tree? I may be small, but I'm a grown man! I have some dignity, you know. What if someone saw me, up in a tree? Someone I knew? Someone I collected taxes from? I was ashamed, and I hesitated. And then מָשִׁ֫יחַ was gone.

My pride kept me from seeing the Lord that day.

The next time he came, I was ready. I swallowed my pride, and I climbed this tree before the crowd even began to gather. We were waiting for Jesus right in the place he said he would be. This time, I knew I would see him. While the crowd was gathering, I did see... someone: It was Matthew! Matthew who owed me (well, technically he owed the IRS) sixteen months of back-taxes. Matthew, whose children always said he was "too sick to even come to the door." Matthew, who was clearly the picture of good health that day. How much did he owe me again? Let's see, that's six denarii times 4.5 weeks, times 16 months at 33% interest, 50% goes to Rome, which leaves me... Hey, wait a minute! Where did he go? Matthew saw Jesus that day, but I did not.

My business (and my busyness) kept me from seeing the Lord that day.

Perhaps it's just as well. I heard from others that a rich man came to see Jesus that day. A righteous rich man, who is well respected in the church—one who keeps all the commandments. No one could hear exactly what Jesus said to the rich man, but after awhile, the rich man lowered his head in shame and left in despair. If there was no hope for this man...how much less for a wretched ἁμαρτωλῷ like me?

The third time Jesus came, I didn't bother to climb the tree. I didn't even bother to leave my house. I was ashamed, and afraid of what he might say to me.

My fear kept me from seeing the Lord that day.

The next Sunday was commitment Sunday at the Jericho Presbyterian Church—the end of our annual pledge drive and giving campaign. It was our custom on that day that each one would come forward, say a prayer of thanksgiving, and offer a sacrifice to God, usually a percentage of our personal income. Usually I avoided this day just as carefully as Matthew (and everyone else) avoided me on tax day.

But for some reason, I felt the need to be in church that day. I felt lonely, and tired, and empty.

One of the leaders of the church stood up to make his prayer and offering. He said, "God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like that tax collector over there. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income."

When he said "that tax collector over there" he looked directly at me. That tax collector. He didn't call me by name, even though we had been attending the same church for years. But then again, he didn't see me as a person, a human being. He saw me as a wretched ἁμαρτωλῷ, as one who was lost, never to be found.

People see what they want to see. And I still wanted to see the Lord.

When my turn came that day, commitment Sunday, I could not go forward. I could not bear to lift my eyes to heaven... but still I raised my prayer:

Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner. I don't know what to offer, but whatever I have is yours. I lay down my pride and my dignity. I lay down my busyness and my business. I lay down all my fear and shame. Take half of what I own—the other half already belongs to Rome. And if I have treated anyone unfairly—Matthew, Simon, Jacob, Ruben, anyone!—let me make it up to them four times over. I don't want anything between us anymore. I just want to see you, Lord!

That was last Sunday. Today Jesus will pass through Jericho one last time. And so here I am... in this tree again!

I have no idea whether or not I will see the Lord this time. But that's okay. I do see things much more clearly now that I have placed everything in the Lord's hands, and in his service.

You know, we all have our tall trees to climb.

We all have things that distract us, that keep us from seeing the Lord.

We all see what we want to see, whether it's the very worst in someone or the very best.

We all see what we want to see, in each other, in ourselves, in the world around us.

What do YOU want to see? And what are you willing to sacrifice in order to see it?

(begins to climb down tree)

ZACCHAEUS! COME DOWN! I AM COMING TO YOUR HOUSE TODAY!

Yes, Lord! I see you! I see you! Here I come!