Okay. We can’t read Zacchaeus without doing some short jokes, right? Why do short people get mad so easily? Because they have short tempers! Unfortunately, I crashed into the back of a car at the lights today. A really short guy got out of the car and said, “I’m not happy.”
I said, “Well which one are you then?”
I’m sorry! We can’t be too hard on short people. After all, short people are the only people in the world who are always looking up. Oh, and don’t forget, God only lets things grow until they’re perfect. Some people simply don’t take as long as others. Enough about short people. I only mention it because of the character Luke introduces us to in our Gospel passage today—Zacchaeus. Most of us know Zacchaeus from our Sunday school days from the little song “Zacchaeus was a ‘wee’ little man, and a ‘wee’ little man was he…” Yes, I’ve preached on Zacchaeus since I’ve been the pastor here, and that’s okay because there are so many nuances to this encounter, that we could spend several weeks exploring each one. Today, we look at his transformation. Zacchaeus’ story, while unique to Luke’s Gospel, is not unique at all. It tells the story of personal transformation made possible by a living encounter with Jesus Christ. It illustrates the transforming effects of that encounter. Perhaps we can learn something that will be useful in understanding our own transformation.
Zacchaeus was an unlikely candidate for spiritual transformation, but perhaps that is Luke’s reason for including the story. As Jesus makes his way to Jericho, Luke simply introduces Zacchaeus to us by saying, “There was a man there named Zacchaeus.” When we read our English translations, we fail to catch the irony of the situation, for, if scholars are correct, the Hebrew root for the name Zacchaeus means “pure” or “acquitted one.” So, Luke really stokes the irony when he adds, “He was the chief tax collector in the region.” Tax collectors were local Jews hired by cities and towns to collect taxes for the Romans. Zaccheus was a “chief” tax collector which meant he probably had supervision over a region and a number of tax collectors. Luke’s words “and he was rich” would certainly not go unnoticed by Jews in Jesus’ day. The privilege of collecting taxes was offered at a steep price and those who held that job set tax rates that often exceeded by far any quotas demanded by Rome. While having no authority to confiscate funds or property, they could exact severe penalties by reporting tax delinquency to the Romans. This they often did whether the charges were true or not. Keep in mind also that tax-collectors were notorious for their corruption, and the mere mention of their name aligned them with sinners. And, so here Luke presents a villain who is ironically named. He was anything but pure or blameless in character; he was, in fact, the exact opposite.
This past Monday was tax day here in the United States. Let me set a contemporary context for Zacchaeus. Suppose an IRS agent shows up on your door, presents you with a tax bill for $1,000, and then says, “But, you have to pay my collection commission, so the total will be $1,250.” Zacchaeus would be that guy, and he was in charge of other tax collectors, in Jericho, which was a center of the tax collecting community. It would be like he was the IRS agency chief in the Austin, Texas office.
But this sinner is soon found to be in a seeking mode. How and when he heard about Jesus we don’t know. What kind of report sparked his desire to see Jesus is also unknown. However, what we read paints an ironic and somewhat comical picture. Zacchaeus was obviously well-known in the area (v.7) at least by reputation. His position and wealth would have placed him on the highest rung of societal status of Jericho. But, this “big” man in society was lacking in physical stature. He who often looked down at people from his pinnacle of societal power could not see Jesus over the crowd. Although left unstated, I cannot help but conclude that some desperate spiritual need could have forced a man of his status to take up the humiliating posture of an adolescent tree-climber.
Luke’s irony continues as Jesus stops under this sycamore tree and calls Zacchaeus to come
down. With all eyes drawn to this despised tax-collector, the potential for a prophetic rebuke was possible (and perhaps even anticipated by the crowd). But Jesus does not berate him, or add to his obviously humiliating posture. Instead Jesus honors him by calling him by name and declaring his intent to be a guest at his house.
For all that we know about Zacchaeus and his encounter with Jesus, there is still something missing from the story. It somehow seems incomplete. Except for the peoples’ complaint that Jesus was going as a guest to the home of a sinner, Luke says nothing about what happened next. Instead we find Zacchaeus stopping and saying to the Lord, “I will give half my wealth to the poor, Lord, and if I have cheated people on their taxes, I will give them back four times as much!” Somehow, perhaps while fellowshipping with Jesus in his home, the taker was transformed into a giver. The greedy cheat who defrauded people was transformed into a man with a benevolent and just heart. Zacchaeus even adopts the spirit of the Law when he commits to making restitution for past sins. Nothing can account for this dramatic change, except the transforming power of the grace of God in Jesus Christ.
As I said earlier, the nuances of the story are plentiful, but I only want to focus on two implications this morning. First, transformation always begins with the call of Christ in our lives. We Wesleyans believe that God comes looking for us. God knows us and calls us by name. Like Zacchaeus, we may be up a tree, but Jesus sees us. We call that “prevenient” grace. Transformation came to Zacchaeus when he became like a child and climbed that tree. It was the hidden call of Christ in his heart that compelled him to climb the tree in the first place. He was seeking Jesus, and all the while Jesus was seeking him. He knows who we are, and he wants to share fellowship with us. In the fellowship we find transformation. That’s the power of our symbol of baptism. Baptism acknowledges the call of God in our lives. Baptism acknowledges our seeking, and more importantly, it acknowledges Jesus finding. We don’t know how it happens, and sometimes we don’t even know when it happens, but we know it happens. Something is decidedly different.
Such is the story of transformation we hear from one of our own at FUMC, Monroe. I’ll call him George (though George is not his real name). George was raised in a home with a Christian mother and a father who was just beginning his journey. George was an only child, so that made him the “precious” one to both sides of his family. Unfortunately, George’s mother battled depression, but he had grandmothers and aunts who filled the void in his mother’s absence. George led a sheltered and innocent life until his sophomore year in high school. That was the year he improved in sports, molded by tough coaches and developed “some anger in the belly.” He was transformed into a type-A personality, becoming popular for all the wrong reasons, and that shy, innocent child was now the life of the party.
That “fire” continued to the corporate world, where George became one of the top producers for the company. The “fire” extended to the relationships he developed with his sons, and though he always went to church, he worshipped material things and recognition. That type-A personality carried him until one day his world collapsed. Professionally, he landed on his feet, but personally, he had even more hatred for those whom he perceived had wronged him.
As George tells the story, one night after many years of living with that hatred, he went to bed, and when he awoke the next morning something was missing. He had no anger. He had no hatred towards anyone. Like Zacchaeus in today’s Gospel, there’s no explanation for the transformation, it just happened because Jesus came calling. In that one evening, patience, understanding and caring replaced “the aggressive nature of my personality.” He’s no longer able to get angry with anyone, even when he still participates in sports activities, the competitive “fire” is gone, and it’s replaced by a desire for fellowship and relationship. George said that since that night he enjoys doing things for people, but he always tries to do it anonymously. He just wants to do it because it’s right to do it. And, with family and friends, he is once again, the quietest person in the room, and then he adds these words to close his transformation story—“sort of like going back to that little boy.”
A great segue into the second implication I want to draw from today’s story. It is this—transformation is restoration. Zacchaeus came to Jesus like a child. Children climbed trees, not Jewish men, and certainly not one of wealth or means. Jesus called him out of the tree. Child-like faith, child-like trust, is the beginning of transformation. Jesus’ call to Zacchaeus was a call back to his childhood. His transformation was the restoration of the Christ image within him. It’s the same image that we’re all born with, but which sin stains and taints—that original image whose characteristics are generosity and grace. The transformation of the person (and subsequently the transformation of the creation) is for the purpose of restoring that which sin has destroyed—the image of God.
“Today salvation has come to this house,” says Jesus, and he is speaking not just of a change in the condition of this man’s soul brought about by a private inner moment of faith. No, when the Luke speaks of salvation he is speaking of something far more comprehensive. The Greek word for being ‘saved’ is also translated “made well,” “healed,” or “made whole.” It refers not to some private transaction between God and the soul, but to the healing and transformation of the whole person! Those who experience this salvation are changed beings! Their lives are radically transformed! Salvation has implications for every aspect of life: work, finances, relationships, priorities, character, even spiritual practices. Everything becomes new! Greed gives way to generosity. Self-centeredness yields to self-sacrifice. Caring only about one’s self is transformed into a caring that flows out to family, friends and neighbors. The salvation Jesus offers radically alters every aspect of our lives: personal, domestic, social, economic and political. We are made new! And, this is the mission of Jesus. He has come to seek and to save the lost, to bring this salvation, this healing and wholeness, this forgiveness and reconciliation, this transformation, to the whole earth. He is the image of the invisible God, the sign of God’s love and acceptance, of God’s compassion and care, and his transformation restores that in each of us.
Have you experienced this salvation? Have you met this Jesus who stretches out his arms of love to embrace us all, who gathers the sinners and the outcasts and the poor as well as the wealthy and the powerful and makes us all new people, whose transformed lives reflect his kindness, generosity and love? Has he opened your eyes to see others as he sees them? Has he shown you that no one is outside his love, no matter how evil their lives are or have been?
This is why Jesus was sent into the world: “to seek out and save the lost.” And, this is why we are sent into the world—to bring God’s healing and salvation to others, to let them know that, no matter how twisted or broken their lives have become, there is love and salvation and healing in God. There is no greater mission than this—to be vessels of God’s transformation to every human being, and to the whole of God’s creation. Join the mission of Jesus Christ! There is much transformation yet to be done…in us…and, in the world. We believe that it is transformation that is entirely possible.
