Proper 26 - Year C Isaiah 1:10-20, 2 Thessalonians 1:1-12, Psalm 32, Luke 19:1-10 October 31, 2004 The Rev. J. Brian Ponder, Chaplain Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi In the Name of God who Creates, Redeems and Sustains. Amen. In today's Gospel, we hear once again, the wonderful and timeless classic story of Zacchaeus. I refer to it as "wonderful" and "timeless," because it is for me. It's one of the first bible stories I remember learning in Sunday school. I remember it from my early, early childhood, as it was recounted not only through story, but also through song. Maybe some of you remember the catchy number… Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he. He climbed up in a sycamore tree to see what he could see. To see what he could see. Okay, I concede that for many the image of "wee, little" people just might more easily conjure up for us images of St. Patrick's Day and leprechauns, rather than of Zacchaeus. And maybe that's somewhat appropriate for even Halloween! The song did do what it was meant to do, at least for me. I remember the story. But these days I can't help somehow blending the two images together - not that I think of Zacchaeus as a leprechaun, nor as Irish, but when I think about that song these days, the storyteller behind the song is always Irish! Because, who else uses the phrase "wee, little man"? Anyway, today we encounter Zacchaeus. Today, we encounter Jesus. For Zacchaeus, I think meeting Jesus was something of a chance encounter - at least I think it must have been that way in consideration of the intentions that drew him from his home that day. In fact, Zacchaeus, based on the impression of him by others in Jericho, probably wouldn't have been expecting anyone home for dinner that night, let alone entertaining Jesus! You see, Zacchaeus was unpopular. He was as unpopular as anyone could be in that day, and the irony of the meanings of his name to the reality of his lifestyle were surely laughable to all who knew him. Zacchaeus - the pure, righteous, just, good and innocent - was chief among the publicans. He was the dreaded chief tax collector - one of Rome's cronies, collecting monies, skimming off the top, taking bribes, pushing people for more than they owed, falsifying documents, changing records. This is the kind of stuff that has de-popularized and made suspicious many within the corporate world in our own day. The circumstances are quite different, but it might as well have been Martha Stewart or an Enron executive up in that tree! You get the point. Zacchaeus was not liked, and it's no surprise that no one was willing to give up their vantage point to let him see this spectacle, this visitor, this Jesus that was passing through town that day. Now I think that it's safe to assume that we've all been to parades, and I'm sure that I can further assume that most, if not all of us, like to have good views of the festivities. We like to see the floats, we like to see folks dressed up, and hear the music as bands pass by. Those in the front usually get a lot of the prizes and treats that are thrown. Kids, because of their height, usually have a place of prominence towards the front of the crowds, so that they can really experience what's going on. It's not unusual for shorter people to be elevated on people's shoulders, people climb up on curbs or fence-lines or hold on to trees or lamp posts to get a better view. Besides seeing things for yourself, one of the biggest parts of the fun of a parade is being around people who are having a good time. I'd even suggest that the success of a parade - or at least part of it - can be judged by the majority of people being "happy," or excited about the whole thing. This isn't rocket science. Most parades have some kind of unifying aspect based on shared experience. That's not to say that everyone gets along, or that parades are the best things ever. That's simply part of what a parade's about. Well, Zacchaeus wanted to be part of that experience. He wanted to know this Jesus, and more precisely, he wanted to know of this Jesus - to see him. I don't think Zacchaeus had any pretenses about what others thought of him. He knew his status within society. He knew that he was not liked, that many had condemned him as a sell-out, a turncoat, if you will. That he was "short in stature" had a couple of meanings. Not only was Zacchaeus not tall, he was not held in high esteem either, and he knew this. He knew his presence would not be welcomed amongst the crowd, but he went anyway. And, when he couldn't get one of the good spots as Jesus made his way through Jericho, Zacchaeus improvised. It's in this moment, I believe, that Zacchaeus has his real conversion. It is here that he determinedly resolved to see this Jesus, not expecting to be seen himself. But this is where we see his sense of urgency which drives him on, hurrying ahead. And it is here that Zacchaeus - the wee, little man - does no small thing. With great resolve, he climbs a tree to get a view (not a better view, but a view). Now a sycamore, here, is a variety of fig tree. It's of decent size, but it's not overly robust or grand. In fact, it is probably quite symbolic of the one who sits in its branches in our story. It doesn't tower over the other trees, but in full bloom, it produces a great deal of fruit. Zacchaeus chooses this tree, knowing that Jesus would pass that way. Simply put, he has belief. Surely there could have been other routes for Jesus to have taken. But Zacchaeus believes, and his belief leads to a very fruitful encounter. It's a leap of faith, which, quite literally, puts him out on a limb. It is in their encounter that Jesus becomes the "uninvited" to the crowd - a role reversal of grand proportions. In fact, he invites himself into Zacchaeus's home. In this act, Jesus shares the burden, in a sense, for Zacchaeus, not only being willing to go home with him and to dine and lodge in his home, but to become in the midst of the crowd, who had gathered in much excitement, the uninvited - something to which Zacchaeus could relate. And Jesus tells him, "Hurry." "Hurry." The urgency, the fervor is now Jesus'. Their stories in many respects become one and the same. This is the Jesus who was rejected lodging at his birth and now requests lodging in the home of a sinner and, while welcomed by Zacchaeus, is turned-against by the crowd. This is the Jesus who continues to upset the applecart, who flips things on end, who is and does the unexpected. And as quickly as Zacchaeus has climbed up and down the sycamore tree, the hearts of the crowd turn. Their grumblings are more about Jesus than of Zacchaeus. "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner." Their energy … their excitement … their parade, so to speak, fizzles. It's a dud for the crowd, because they don't get what they've come for. Zacchaeus, on the other hand, is the one who becomes happy and welcomes Jesus. The fear of missing sight of Jesus which instigated his climbing the tree in the first place has now passed. Zacchaeus professes his transformation, and Jesus proclaims not only radical inclusion, but salvation as well. The encounter, as one scholar puts it, is one that "redeemed the past, transformed the present and redirected the future" - certainly no chance meeting after all. This story of Zacchaeus - this story of Jesus - tells us a lot about ourselves. It tells us about being "the other." It tells us about experiencing things anew. To expect the unexpected. Where do we find ourselves in the story? Where is it in our own lives that we find ourselves to be the crowd, or Zacchaeus, or both? Where is it that we impose those roles on others, whether it's in our daily lives and routines, or in our communities, or even in the life of the Church? Zacchaeus had a willingness to see what was not already apparent to so many others. Zacchaeus greeted Jesus with different eyes, eyes that were tired of things being the way they were, eyes that had seen much more than one day too many of things remaining the same. His were expectant eyes, eyes that welcomed the overturned applecart, and I think that's key to the story. Zacchaeus realized the ushering in of change and new life that accompanied Jesus. He was open to and willing to see that change and to become, himself, an agent of change. The crowd was not looking for anything particularly different; they were expecting the status quo. They were so caught up in the spectacle that they were caught off guard and got more than they had bargained for. Where is it in our own day that we expect to meet Christ? Where is it that we hope Christ will find us? Where is it that Christ beckons us to look on things with fresh eyes, or from different vantages and perspectives? How will we respond? How will we be changed?