Luke 19:1-10

New Revised Standard Version

¹He entered Jericho and was passing through it. ²A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. ³He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd, he could not, because he was short in stature. ⁴So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. ⁵When 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." ⁶So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. ⁷All who saw it began to grumble and said, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner." ⁸Zacchaeus 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." ⁹Then Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. ¹⁰For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost."

Common English Bible

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through town. ² A man there named Zacchaeus, a ruler among tax collectors, was rich. ³ He was trying to see who Jesus was, but, being a short man, he couldn’t because of the crowd. ⁴ So he ran ahead and climbed up a sycamore tree so he could see Jesus, who was about to pass that way. ⁵ When Jesus came to that spot, he looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, come down at once. I must stay in your home today.” ⁶ So Zacchaeus came down at once, happy to welcome Jesus. ⁷ Everyone who saw this grumbled, saying, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.” ⁸ Zacchaeus stopped and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord, I give half of my possessions to the poor. And if I have cheated anyone, I repay them four times as much.” ⁹ Jesus said to him, “Today, salvation has come to this household because he too is a son of Abraham. ¹⁰ The Human One came to seek and save the lost.”

Many years ago, my husband, Ben, taught Sunday School to a class of children. The last year he taught Sunday School the story of Zacchaeus was on the schedule. When I asked him later that day how things had gone, he told me he decided to improvise, and he told the children that what Jesus actually said was, “Zacchaeus, you come down out of that tree. If you fall and break your arm, I’m not healing you!” Whether or not this had anything to do with it being his last year teaching Sunday School, I will let you decide.

While you never assume that everyone in the congregation is familiar with the text you are reading- in fact – I rely on it- the story of Zacchaeus is one of the more familiar stories in the New Testament. 

So familiar, in fact, it’s easy to overlook it, skim over it, and think we know it better than we do.

It reminds me of a story I read in USA Today a few years ago[1], the story of a painting in the home of a French woman.

A small painting, 10 inches by 8 inches, of Jesus being mocked as he is led to crucifixion, the woman thought it was no more than an unimportant icon. It wasn’t in a prized place in her living room. It wasn’t behind glass in a special viewing area. It was hanging in a hallway between her kitchen and the dining room.

It was not an unimportant icon. It was a work by the 13th-century Italian artist Cimabue. 

His work is known, but it’s all in museums or private collections. The article said that nobody knew how much it would sell for because a Cimabue hadn’t ever been for sale. Too precious to sell. The woman’s small painting sold for almost 27 million dollars.

I wonder how many times she walked past it. Maybe she had grown up with it, always had it in her home, and just didn’t notice it anymore. So familiar, it didn’t get any attention. She was so certain she knew what she was seeing, her eyes didn’t entertain any other possibilities.

What possibilities are there with the story of Zacchaeus? First, let’s start with what we know. Or what we think we know.

Zacchaeus is a sinner. We assume that because the Bible tells us he is a tax collector, and rich. He wants to see Jesus, and maybe avoid the other people, he travels down the road and climbs a tree. When Jesus comes along and calls him down, Zacchaeus sees the error of his ways and tells Jesus he will give away money and change his ways.

But… is that what the text says?

If we look a little closer, here is the story we see. We hear.

Zacchaeus. Yes. A tax collector. Yes. Rich. But the text does not say he is a sinner. We do know that his name means “Pure” or “Righteous.”[2]

He climbs the tree- something that would have been embarrassing and degrading, beneath his station. But he does it because he really wants to see Jesus. It feels like more than curiosity.

And when Jesus passes by Zacchaeus, he calls Zacchaeus down from the tree as if they are old friends, and then Jesus invites himself to Zacchaeus’ house.

Here’s where the grumbling starts. We’re used to people complaining, and grumbling in the gospels about something Jesus is doing or not doing, but what makes this grumbling a little different is that it isn’t just one group or a part of the group, it’s all the people. Everyone. They are all apparently, mad that Jesus is going to hang out with Zacchaeus. Are they jealous? Are they justified? We don’t know. We just know that they grumble.

Zacchaeus isn’t deaf. He isn’t blind. He both hears and sees the people grumbling. And while the saying goes that what other people think about you is none of your business, Zacchaeus can’t let their grumbling stand. Zacchaeus decides to respond to their false judgment. He defends himself.

“I don’t just tithe,” he tells them. “I give away half of all that I receive.”

“And if I’ve done something wrong, I repay the person four times as much.”

Did you hear that? Unlike the version I grew up with in which Zacchaeus tells Jesus he WILL do these things, the more accurate translation is of these verbs in the present.

Taking that with the rest of the contextual clues,

Maybe Zacchaeus isn’t the one who needs conversion here.

So why was it translated differently for so many generations?

Likely it was presbyopia. Old eyes. Assuming that they knew the story, the words fit what they expected it to mean.

How many times do you think the woman walked past the painting in her hallway without realizing what was there?

As I already told you it’s stewardship season. Among ministry colleagues, stewardship season is also known as the season when ministers everywhere find the three typos in the stewardship mailing exactly five minutes after they are all printed and stuffed in the envelopes.

Are there typos because there was no proofreading? No. There are typos because when reading something you’ve written, your eyes fill in the blanks with what they expect to see.

Zacchaeus not being a sinner, however, raises a couple of questions.

First, if it’s not Zacchaeus, who is it?

What if it’s the crowd, in other words, us? What if the lost ones Jesus is seeking are the ones who think they know Zacchaeus and have nothing else to learn about him? The ones who are certain they believe they know how God feels about Zacchaeus and there’s no need to learn or change?

I heard an interview with theologian Stanley Hauerwas this past week.[3] Hauerwas is a theologian I’ve read and heard speak before, but I had no idea that during a significant part of his working years, and his parenting years, his wife was suffering from severe mental illness that drastically changed all of them.

I wanted to weep for the pain he’d felt he needed to keep inside, for his career, for his family, because we’re still not good about normalizing talking about mental health and considering it, well, just health. 

How often do we think we know everything we need to know about a person, and it’s not even ½ of the picture God sees? And when we do see and know more, it changes us.

Maybe this text is a reminder not only of the blinders I wear but my continual need to grow and be open to change.

Maybe the sin here isn’t greed but a certainty, in thinking we/I can know the heart of God and whom God loves. Or that thinking that there are those whom God does not love and welcome.

The story of Zacchaeus reminds us that the Bible still has new things to teach us. 

That the word of God is still being opened to us in new ways.

I suspect that the church, for too long, and me right along with it, has suffered from Presbyopia, that problem of old eyes – seeing things the way we think they should be seen, the way we have always seen them.

Which is also a problem with what we are showing. If we are reluctant to show who we really are- and what is really going on in our lives - both the good and the bad, the hard and the wonderful, it makes sense that people see what we want them to see.

Zacchaeus' experience causes me to wonder, what does it look like when a church embraces Emmetropia - clear vision? New eyes? An ability to see with honesty, with care. With Grace. Generosity. Abundance. A God who doesn’t try and contain love and welcome, but continues to expand, starting with our own hearts.

And I am grateful for the way you are already doing this, and leading the way. I hear it every day when I meet people. Or look at the statement you put on your bulletin many years ago, words we will spend a lifetime living in.

Zacchaeus not only causes me to wonder, but Zacchaeus also inspires gratitude.

For the ways in which we are called to not only open the doors, but pull them off of their hinges to stake our claim of welcome, and to recognize that church isn’t just in here – it’s out there.

(for Bill Lessard’s sake, since he is the one who cares for this building, I will add that I mean this door tearing figuratively and not literally)

For as we know, Jesus came not to move the tables around in our world but to turn them over.

And this can be a little scary. Sometimes we want our faith to be comfortable and reliable, but a living faith is a faith that is transforming and transitioning. Starting here. Starting together.

And while it can be a bit scary, we can also see this as a gift. A gift to a new view, a new outlook, that we can receive arms wide open.

As Harry Emerson Fosdick preached more than a century ago, “Christianity is not a finished article, a static system; it is a growing movement…. Because it is a growing, living, vital thing, it never has been quite the same thing in any two generations…. but so long as its roots are in the spirit of Jesus let it grow, for its leaves shall be for the healing of the nations…    Christianity can be to us…that far nobler thing, a river, whose fountains are in the life of Jesus, whose flowing is the spirit of Jesus, an ever-growing, enlarging stream…..We cannot be static disciples of an advancing Lord.”[4]

Thanks be to God for Zacchaeus. Thanks be to God.

[1] https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/style/2019/10/27/masterpiece-found-chance-french-womans-kitchen-sells-26-6-m/2480630001/

[2] https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper26c/#Luke=

https://leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.com/2013/10/who-then-can-be-saved-this-guy.html

http://www.crossmarks.com/brian/luke19x1.htm

[3] https://katebowler.com/podcasts/more-life-fewer-explanations-2/

[4] From a sermon entitled “Progressive Christianity” preached on May 8, 1921. Found in A Preaching Ministry: Twenty-One Sermons Preaching by Harry Emerson Fosdick at The First Presbyterian Church in the City of New York, 1918-1925. New York: The First Presbyterian Church in the City of New York, 2000. Pages 156 – 172.