A few years ago, I was on staff at a relatively large downtown church. I observed something in my time there that I had never encountered at any other church. For lack of any better way to describe the rather disturbing trend at this church, I’m going to call it “resume members.” Let me explain what I mean. This particular church had a relatively large contingent of what we might call “high profile” members who would make an appearance on a Sunday morning about once every four to six months. They were members of the church, but they were also prominent businessmen and women in the community, or politicians, or otherwise independently famous or wealthy. Now don’t get me wrong; for every one of these “resume members”, there were two to three others just like them who did regularly participate in the worship and other activities of the church. The reason I share this with you, though, is in order to offer a good example of how we Christians often “use” our Christian faith to our advantage.
For these “resume members”, their church membership at this high-steeple, downtown church, allowed the people to, in essence, use their Christianity to make themselves look good when they wanted the next big promotion or were trying to get more votes at the polls. They came just enough to be seen and to be able to say they were Christian, but not so much that their important schedules were disrupted. Now, before you start judging these people, whom you don’t even know, understand this—we all do this to some degree. We all “use” our Christian faith at times to get something we want; whether it’s a free pass to a glorious afterlife, or just a good feeling in worship, sometimes we all lose track of the true role of faith in our lives.
If I’m being honest, I have to say that there are times when my work as a minister is just that—work, a job; it’s not about my faith or service to God at all, it’s just about the paycheck. And if I can say that to you all, then you can all probably think back over your time as a Christian and see those moments when you, too, have lost hold of the true faith. We complain about worship because it doesn’t make us feel good, even though worship isn’t about us anyway. We put our faith on the back shelf whenever something better comes along; we can always pick it back up when we’re done, we think. We feel like we want to grow closer to Jesus, but we are afraid that we might lose friends. We say we’re Christian when it will get us something we want or need, but we hide that truth when it might bring shame.
But the thing about our Christian faith is that it should mark a complete change in our lives; it should define all of who we are and everything that we do. And that’s what this story of Zacchaeus is all about. If there’s anybody who should be ashamed, it’s Zacchaeus. If there’s anybody who might use a newfound Christian faith to his advantage, it’s Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was a tax collector, and we all know about tax collectors, but it wasn’t even that Zacchaeus was just a tax collector; he was a chief tax collector. So take everything you know about tax collectors and multiply it a few fold, and you come up with guys like Zacchaeus. He was a turncoat Jew, pilfering his fellow Jews for all they were worth, but then on top of that he almost certainly made even more money from the tax collectors working under him. We can only imagine the reaction of his neighbors as Zacchaeus’ home become more lavishly decorated, his clothes became finer, and his food became richer. There can be no doubt that on the streets of Jericho, Zacchaeus was a dirty name.
With such a reputation, public appearances would have been uncomfortable at best for Zacchaeus. He would have been sneered at on a regular basis, and it wouldn’t be surprising if the residents of Jericho openly mocked Zacchaeus about his short stature; their only line of defense against this shameless robber. Keeping in mind Zacchaeus’ less than ideal reputation around town, it’s a little bit surprising to find him in this story in the midst of a great crowd waiting to see this prophet named Jesus. If Zacchaeus knew what was good for him, he would’ve just stayed home, out of the way. But as it was, he found himself in the midst of the mob, so completely surrounded that he couldn’t see the road, much less who might be coming down it. He was probably getting pushed and shoved around, more on purpose than by accident most likely, as people saw a unique opportunity to give Zacchaeus a little taste of his own medicine. And yet, that didn’t seem to bother Zacchaeus. He was not deterred by the mob surrounding him, there was something about this man Jesus that had compelled him to be there, and he wasn’t even going to let his vertical challenge keep that from happening.
Eventually, Zacchaeus broke free from the crowd and he ran ahead to a sycamore tree standing by the side of the road. Now sycamore trees are not grand trees, but they have low branches, and are good for climbing, and it would’ve given Zacchaeus just the boost he needed to see down the road. And yet, keep in mind that by climbing on this tree, Zacchaeus was making himself even MORE vulnerable to the sneers and jeers of the crowd. Whereas before he could only be seen by those standing right around him, atop the sycamore tree, he was in full view of the whole crowd. Still, that did not stop Zacchaeus; he was not ashamed, he was not afraid. He just wanted to see Jesus. There was such a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Jesus, that it was already changing Zacchaeus; nothing else mattered.
A few years ago, a good friend of mine took his young daughter, Alice, to her first circus. Before the event my friend tried his best to describe the exciting atmosphere of the big top. Of course, Alice asked lots of questions along the way. Would she get to pet the elephant? Could she swing on the trapeze? Would the clowns come and talk to her? The night before, she could hardly sleep. She woke her parents with: "Daddy, Daddy, come on. We can't be late."
As they drove to the circus grounds, Alice’s eyes sparkled. When they finally arrived, her father had to hold her hand tightly to keep her from running ahead of him. He bought her peanuts and Cracker Jacks before taking their seats in the stands. Alice giggled as her father put the ring in the Cracker Jack box on her finger, pointing out the three rings in the center of the tent.
"When's it going to start, Daddy? When's it going to start?" she asked again and again. Finally it began.
Alice clapped her hands to the music and squealed with delight as she watched the parade of animals and performers. Her eyes darted back and forth, not knowing which of the three rings to watch. Then suddenly, Alice became very still and quiet.
"What is it, Alice?" my friend asked.
"Daddy," she said, her voice filled with awe, "I was so excited to see the circus, and this is even better than you said!”
There’s nothing like the simple awe of a child at her first circus to remind us of the sort of excitement and anticipation we should feel every time we have an opportunity to encounter Christ. Zacchaeus, though hardened and hated, was already being transformed by Christ as anticipation drove him to the top of that sycamore tree. But his transformation didn’t stop there because as Jesus made his way into Jericho, he spotted Zacchaeus in the tree alongside the road, and Jesus called out to him, summoning Zacchaeus down. If Zacchaeus hadn’t caught a lot of attention before, he certainly was now. Jesus has stopped to talk to, of all people, the worst guy in town. And more shocking still is the fact that Jesus wants to dine with Zacchaeus in his home. The crowds were probably busy reasoning that Jesus was hungry for a good, lavish meal, and he knew you only find that sort of thing in the home of chief tax collectors who have stolen everyone else’s money.
But while the crowds were still busy judging Zacchaeus, Jesus did something else entirely. He loved Zacchaeus when nobody else did. Jesus showed compassion to a man that in many ways was undeserving of any mercy, and who certainly had not received any from his peers in Jericho. And so it is that Zacchaeus’ reaction to Jesus is even more amazing than Jesus’ reaction to the man in the tree. Zacchaeus pledged to Jesus, and to all the people in the crowds witnessing this strange encounter, that he would give half of all his riches to the poor and then he would restore fourfold all that he had cheated out of others.
Zacchaeus knew he wasn’t a great guy, and he had heard of this man named Jesus who loved sinners. It was enough to compel Zacchaeus out among the harshest of judges in order to meet this unusual prophet. And sure enough, Jesus showed complete, unconditional love for Zacchaeus. It changed Zacchaeus’ life, he had finally found the “more excellent way,” and he wasn’t afraid to show it. It didn’t matter that he was now out of work completely. It didn’t matter that he was about to lose everything and probably become poor like all those people he’d been overtaxing in Jericho. This newfound faith meant a new life to be lived in a new way, and that’s exactly what Zacchaeus did.
So this is what we need to hear this morning. Jesus loved Zacchaeus, and he loves each of us, too. What we have done or left undone matters not; we are all sinners who fall short of the glory of God. We all have much of which to be ashamed. But Jesus still loves us, and when we have accepted that love and entered into a relationship with Christ, it changes us. We have to live that changed life. We can’t just give only when it’s convenient, or worship only when we don’t want to sleep in. We can’t use our faith as a springboard to the next great thing in this life. Real, genuine faith in Christ transforms us so completely that everyone we encounter will see the love of Jesus in us, as we live the way Jesus lived.
The simple story of Zacchaeus teaches us that Christ forgives sinners. The more complicated story reminds us that Christ’s forgiveness results in transformed lives full of anticipation, generosity, and love. When Jesus found the lost Zacchaeus and his life was changed, Jesus told him, “Today salvation has come to this household.” Tempering our faith because of social expectations, or fear, or shame will keep us from experiencing full salvation through Christ Jesus our Lord. So, as always, we have a choice—we can continue on as “resume Christians” pulling out the “faith card” only when it’s convenient for us, or we can be more like Zacchaeus.
What will you do? Will you simply meet Jesus, or will you allow Jesus to change your whole life? The answer to that question really does matter.
