The Story Of Zacchaeus
Sermon
From Every Angle
A Compendium Of Stewardship Resources
Winston Churchill once said, "We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give." Jesus said, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions."
More than anything else in the whole world, a man wanted to possess a house of his own. Not just any house, but a house that everyone would marvel at. So he worked long hours and hard days over many years until at last he acquired the house of his dreams. Alas, once he set foot in his house, he was never seen again. He dared not leave his prize for fear that thieves would steal or vandals ruin what he had labored so hard to possess. Is it possible that whatever you possess, possesses you?
Or, perhaps we are like the three church professionals: a Protestant minister, a Catholic priest, and a Jewish rabbi were discussing how much of the congregations' contributions they returned to God. The Protestant minister said, "I draw a line and throw the money up. What lands of this side of the line belongs to the Lord." The Catholic priest said, "I draw a circle and stand inside and throw the money in the air. What lands inside the circle belongs to God." The Jewish rabbi said, "I draw a circle, too, and stand inside, and throw the money up in the air and say, "God you take what you want first and the rest belongs to me." All that we own, we owe to God.
In 1995 a Gallup poll reported the lowest rate of household giving in eight years: 69 percent, down from 73 percent the year before (Dallas Morning News, October 10, 1996). Twenty--five percent of all church members in our country give nothing to their churches. Our unemployment is the lowest in 26 years, and our economy is healthy.
The story of Zacchaeus is a story of the stewardship of time and talent, the giving of oneself that speaks to our social, economic, physical, and spiritual well--being. Therefore, it becomes a sermon for Stewardship Sunday, a "hatching of the heart."1
Zacchaeus had an addiction. So? All of us, if we are alive, have addictions. Annie Dillard, a writer has an addiction to reading books and wonders what would happen if she ran out of reading matter.
C. S. Lewis had an addiction for God and an apology for the Christian faith. My granddaughter has an addiction for potato chips, popcorn, and goldfish crackers. Some people are addicted to smoking. Some to drinking. Some to work. Some to play. Some to sex. Some to praise. Some to making money. But we cannot be sure we know another's addiction.
What we do know is that to be alive is to be addicted and to be addicted is to be in need of grace. In our story for today, the writer pictured Zacchaeus and his addiction. He was the head toll or tax--collector at Jericho. He was addicted to defrauding others, for at that time taxes were collected from the poor for whatever government was in charge. It was a systemic addiction to pay for their military and economic might. The tax collectors paid a set amount out of their own pocket. Then whatever extra they could charge was their profit.
We all know the addiction to win, whether it is an athletic contest, a political or religious office, a parlor game, a war, a physical or mental test, supporting a family ... "keeping up with the Joneses." To be alive is to be addicted and to be addicted is to be in need of grace. So Jesus came.
The story is a popular one with children because Zacchaeus was small. When we are small (be it stature or rank, financial or spiritual), we can identify with the "underdog," the little, the least, the last.
"I'll take Bill," the leader of one side shouts.
"I get Susan," counters the leader on the other side.
And who is last? The little, the least, in whatever the contest.
We are frustrated today by the idea of stewardship. For whatever it is named, we wonder how it will be used. There is a sense of distrust in organizations, their expenses, their "over" head, the term for power.
In Jesus' time the people paid taxes to the government and the temple. Today both are suspect. Domination. Power. Zacchaeus, being small, sought his power in whatever way he could. Jesus, however, was against power, for power corrupts both physically and spiritually. It corrupts the way we see, and the way we see determines what we do, how we pay our taxes, tithes, and talents.
Jesus really believed, or so we glean from his words and actions, that before God we are equal - rich and poor, woman and man, president and peasant - and all are equally in need of grace, the awareness of the abundance of God's blessings.
Zacchaeus was in need of grace, so Jesus ate with him, for eating together was what Jesus' message and mission were, are, all about. A member of the congregation to which I belong does not take communion because it means, "I am your brother. I am responsible for you." He takes it seriously: "If she has a debt, it is my responsibility." So did the people of the Old Testament. "I am my brother, my sister's keeper." That is what eating together means. Eating is the way we begin and continue a relationship. Jesus ate with his disciples. He ate with sinners and tax collectors, and he told us to do the same.
Jesus ate with Zacchaeus, an enemy of the people. Of course they complained; so did the Pharisees, for Jesus lived out the dream of God, and that is scary for most of us. It calls attention to our addictions. Jesus showed us another way of acting. But to follow him might mean giving up our addiction, and how can we live without it?
We worry whether our church, our Christianity, will survive into the future. Jesus was concerned about the moment. "I will stay at your house today." Jesus met the need of the moment. For Jesus the grace of God was compassion, and through his passion for social justice he focused on individual change on structural change.
The Baal Shem taught his followers to fight "smallness" with joy: "The man who looks at himself cannot but sink into despair, yet as soon as he opens his eyes to the creation about him, he will know joy."
Jesus prayed, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." And then he did it. He not only did it. In some graceful way, he enabled Zacchaeus to do it, as well.
As we step inside the story and into Zacchaeus' home to listen to and observe that meal, we wonder what Jesus said to entice Zacchaeus to let go his addiction, to create his compassion? For those who think the story was merely a fiction, I contend that fiction carries truth as far as fact. It was the way Jesus told his truth: "Jesus told them a parable."
For the fact is that we, made in the image of our compassionate God, are called to seek grace, to let go of our addiction, and to be compassionate, for to be alive is to be addicted and to be addicted is to be in need of grace. Jesus says, "Come, for I must stay at your house today."
So I would change Meister Eckhart's paraphrase, "What does it matter if Mary birthed Jesus 2,000 years ago if I do not birth Jesus today?" to "What does it matter if Zacchaeus became compassionate and gave back four times the money he had taken from the people 2,000 years ago if I am not compassionate today?"
And Jesus says, "Go, now, and do likewise."
Zacchaeus was small in stature
But that wasn't his problem
But that was his problem
Because he became a tax--collector to be Big
in the eyes of his family and community.
His house was bigger, his mule was bigger, and as his possessions grew,
His hunger grew bigger, his need grew bigger, his desire
grew bigger.
Then Zacchaeus heard that Jesus was coming.
Because Zacchaeus was small in stature,
He climbed a tree to see,
But that wasn't his problem
But that was his problem because
Zacchaeus needed a new perspective, a new forgiveness, a new birth,
And Jesus, because he was born from above, looked up and said,
"Come down, I am going to your house today."
Jesus looked up to see and he saw Zacchaeus' hunger
And though it wasn't for food, Jesus ate with him.
For to eat at the table with Jesus means forgiveness,
a new perspective, a new birth from above.
Then Zacchaeus gave away twice what he had taken
For that was his problem,
But that wasn't his problem
For Jesus said,
"Today salvation has come to his house."
That was Zacchaeus' problem
And that is my problem
And the problem and work of the world.2
And Jesus says, "Go, now, and do likewise." Amen
____________
1. With appreciation to Marcus J. Berg, The God We Never Knew (Harper San Francisco, 1997).
2. Elaine M. Ward, Asking for Wonder (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., 1997), p. 72.
More than anything else in the whole world, a man wanted to possess a house of his own. Not just any house, but a house that everyone would marvel at. So he worked long hours and hard days over many years until at last he acquired the house of his dreams. Alas, once he set foot in his house, he was never seen again. He dared not leave his prize for fear that thieves would steal or vandals ruin what he had labored so hard to possess. Is it possible that whatever you possess, possesses you?
Or, perhaps we are like the three church professionals: a Protestant minister, a Catholic priest, and a Jewish rabbi were discussing how much of the congregations' contributions they returned to God. The Protestant minister said, "I draw a line and throw the money up. What lands of this side of the line belongs to the Lord." The Catholic priest said, "I draw a circle and stand inside and throw the money in the air. What lands inside the circle belongs to God." The Jewish rabbi said, "I draw a circle, too, and stand inside, and throw the money up in the air and say, "God you take what you want first and the rest belongs to me." All that we own, we owe to God.
In 1995 a Gallup poll reported the lowest rate of household giving in eight years: 69 percent, down from 73 percent the year before (Dallas Morning News, October 10, 1996). Twenty--five percent of all church members in our country give nothing to their churches. Our unemployment is the lowest in 26 years, and our economy is healthy.
The story of Zacchaeus is a story of the stewardship of time and talent, the giving of oneself that speaks to our social, economic, physical, and spiritual well--being. Therefore, it becomes a sermon for Stewardship Sunday, a "hatching of the heart."1
Zacchaeus had an addiction. So? All of us, if we are alive, have addictions. Annie Dillard, a writer has an addiction to reading books and wonders what would happen if she ran out of reading matter.
C. S. Lewis had an addiction for God and an apology for the Christian faith. My granddaughter has an addiction for potato chips, popcorn, and goldfish crackers. Some people are addicted to smoking. Some to drinking. Some to work. Some to play. Some to sex. Some to praise. Some to making money. But we cannot be sure we know another's addiction.
What we do know is that to be alive is to be addicted and to be addicted is to be in need of grace. In our story for today, the writer pictured Zacchaeus and his addiction. He was the head toll or tax--collector at Jericho. He was addicted to defrauding others, for at that time taxes were collected from the poor for whatever government was in charge. It was a systemic addiction to pay for their military and economic might. The tax collectors paid a set amount out of their own pocket. Then whatever extra they could charge was their profit.
We all know the addiction to win, whether it is an athletic contest, a political or religious office, a parlor game, a war, a physical or mental test, supporting a family ... "keeping up with the Joneses." To be alive is to be addicted and to be addicted is to be in need of grace. So Jesus came.
The story is a popular one with children because Zacchaeus was small. When we are small (be it stature or rank, financial or spiritual), we can identify with the "underdog," the little, the least, the last.
"I'll take Bill," the leader of one side shouts.
"I get Susan," counters the leader on the other side.
And who is last? The little, the least, in whatever the contest.
We are frustrated today by the idea of stewardship. For whatever it is named, we wonder how it will be used. There is a sense of distrust in organizations, their expenses, their "over" head, the term for power.
In Jesus' time the people paid taxes to the government and the temple. Today both are suspect. Domination. Power. Zacchaeus, being small, sought his power in whatever way he could. Jesus, however, was against power, for power corrupts both physically and spiritually. It corrupts the way we see, and the way we see determines what we do, how we pay our taxes, tithes, and talents.
Jesus really believed, or so we glean from his words and actions, that before God we are equal - rich and poor, woman and man, president and peasant - and all are equally in need of grace, the awareness of the abundance of God's blessings.
Zacchaeus was in need of grace, so Jesus ate with him, for eating together was what Jesus' message and mission were, are, all about. A member of the congregation to which I belong does not take communion because it means, "I am your brother. I am responsible for you." He takes it seriously: "If she has a debt, it is my responsibility." So did the people of the Old Testament. "I am my brother, my sister's keeper." That is what eating together means. Eating is the way we begin and continue a relationship. Jesus ate with his disciples. He ate with sinners and tax collectors, and he told us to do the same.
Jesus ate with Zacchaeus, an enemy of the people. Of course they complained; so did the Pharisees, for Jesus lived out the dream of God, and that is scary for most of us. It calls attention to our addictions. Jesus showed us another way of acting. But to follow him might mean giving up our addiction, and how can we live without it?
We worry whether our church, our Christianity, will survive into the future. Jesus was concerned about the moment. "I will stay at your house today." Jesus met the need of the moment. For Jesus the grace of God was compassion, and through his passion for social justice he focused on individual change on structural change.
The Baal Shem taught his followers to fight "smallness" with joy: "The man who looks at himself cannot but sink into despair, yet as soon as he opens his eyes to the creation about him, he will know joy."
Jesus prayed, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." And then he did it. He not only did it. In some graceful way, he enabled Zacchaeus to do it, as well.
As we step inside the story and into Zacchaeus' home to listen to and observe that meal, we wonder what Jesus said to entice Zacchaeus to let go his addiction, to create his compassion? For those who think the story was merely a fiction, I contend that fiction carries truth as far as fact. It was the way Jesus told his truth: "Jesus told them a parable."
For the fact is that we, made in the image of our compassionate God, are called to seek grace, to let go of our addiction, and to be compassionate, for to be alive is to be addicted and to be addicted is to be in need of grace. Jesus says, "Come, for I must stay at your house today."
So I would change Meister Eckhart's paraphrase, "What does it matter if Mary birthed Jesus 2,000 years ago if I do not birth Jesus today?" to "What does it matter if Zacchaeus became compassionate and gave back four times the money he had taken from the people 2,000 years ago if I am not compassionate today?"
And Jesus says, "Go, now, and do likewise."
Zacchaeus was small in stature
But that wasn't his problem
But that was his problem
Because he became a tax--collector to be Big
in the eyes of his family and community.
His house was bigger, his mule was bigger, and as his possessions grew,
His hunger grew bigger, his need grew bigger, his desire
grew bigger.
Then Zacchaeus heard that Jesus was coming.
Because Zacchaeus was small in stature,
He climbed a tree to see,
But that wasn't his problem
But that was his problem because
Zacchaeus needed a new perspective, a new forgiveness, a new birth,
And Jesus, because he was born from above, looked up and said,
"Come down, I am going to your house today."
Jesus looked up to see and he saw Zacchaeus' hunger
And though it wasn't for food, Jesus ate with him.
For to eat at the table with Jesus means forgiveness,
a new perspective, a new birth from above.
Then Zacchaeus gave away twice what he had taken
For that was his problem,
But that wasn't his problem
For Jesus said,
"Today salvation has come to his house."
That was Zacchaeus' problem
And that is my problem
And the problem and work of the world.2
And Jesus says, "Go, now, and do likewise." Amen
____________
1. With appreciation to Marcus J. Berg, The God We Never Knew (Harper San Francisco, 1997).
2. Elaine M. Ward, Asking for Wonder (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., 1997), p. 72.
