Mass readings for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Wisdom 11.22-12.2 Psalm 145.1-2, 8-11, 13-14 2 Thessalonians 1.11-2.2 Luke 19.1-10
Last week we had a parable of Jesus that raised the problem of self-righteousness illustrated by a comparison of a pious Pharisee and a tax collector, the epitome of sinfulness among people of that time – and it wasn’t that they collected taxes but this had more to do with who they collected them for: the Romans and their local client rulers.
And while last week, the focus was on the Pharisee and his mistaken assumptions about his relationship to God, his thinking he was justified and saved; this week we get, not a parable, but a story about Jesus encountering a tax collector named Zacchaeus. And he is not just any tax collector, but a chief tax collector. So, this is a guy further up in the system; a system even he had to admit wasn’t great for the people of Israel.
And so, this famous story tells us there is hope for us all if we turn to Christ, no matter how “lost” we might be in the world, entangled in its evil and corruption.
Here we’re invited to consider all those people who are caught up in, what we might call, “the system.”
I think you know what I’m referring to, it’s the situation we find ourselves in as human beings throughout history where we know how things ought to be, and yet the way we as a society live our lives, organize our politics, run our economies, cultivate our culture, these all seem to conspire against rational good choices, common sense, but most especially doing the right thing. If ever you’ve been confronted with a situation that leaves you saying, “well, that’s stupid” or “that’s wrong” to be responded to by another with a shrug, and “that’s just the way it is” you know what I’m talking about.
I hold back from offering specific examples because frankly, I’m bound to offend someone here if I do. And why? Because we are all to some extent part of this dysfunctional system. And while we might all complain about how the problems are down to others, we often get defensive when talk of actually doing something threatens our comfort. Everyone to some extent is implicated with very few exceptions; we call those people “saints”.
The process of civilizing does not run smooth, but I would argue that the project we know as Western Civilization, what was formerly known as “Christendom” is by far the most successful civilization ever to be. It has through its struggles achieved many great things: it ended the acceptability of slavery; it created wealth sufficient to lift billions out of poverty. Yet, you will know from my past homilies that I share in the concern that of late things are going badly wrong.
Go back two thousand years, to Judea, Samaria, the Galilee, and you would find a great many Jews feeling very much the same way: things are going badly wrong. God has brought us to the Promised Land, and yet we have lost control of it. We’ve been conquered, subjugated, our religion threatened regularly with corruption and even elimination; and while it’s acknowledged that a lot of the responsibility for this lies with our rulers, it also falls on the people generally. So, things aren’t good, we don’t know how to fix them, we’re hoping for a saviour, but in the meantime, we tear at the social fabric as we become divided into factions, and we go looking for scapegoats.
And the tax collectors were an obvious scapegoat. They facilitated the whole rotten system by collecting the money to pay for it.
Now today we get a sympathetic picture of a tax collector in the person of Zacchaeus. This isn’t sympathy for the devil, but for a human being who finds himself caught up in a system of exploitation and evil; and who likely resented some of what was said about him because from his perspective he had his reasons, his rationalization. After all, someone’s got to collect the taxes; and this is a cruel world, and I’m just looking out for me and my own. I look after my employees, my dependents, I pay taxes too!
I thought to compare Zacchaeus to a mobster like television’s Tony Soprano – if you know that show, the people who watched it actually came to like Tony despite his criminality and cruelty.
A more apt comparison for us today would perhaps be Zacchaeus as a hedge fund manager, a guy who makes his money shorting stocks. Such people have a rational place in our economy, but I do get that they often make money off the misery of others.
Now this is an interesting story because it’s built around this humorous encounter: Jesus finding the chief tax collector of Jericho up a tree.
That’s something we find funny, I’m not sure why, but
I think our gospel writer, Luke, in hearing this story thought it was terrific because of all the stories about Jesus and tax collectors, the humour of this one makes us more sympathetic toward someone who wasn’t very popular. Remember what I said about tax collectors last week? A necessary part of their business was in being intimidating. And even short in stature Zacchaeus doubtless had both lawyers and goons to deal with those who owed him money.
This story is unique to Luke’s gospel. Luke likes to include stories and parables of Jesus that bring us to compare and contrast individuals. Last week it was a pharisee and a tax collector. If you know Luke’s gospel, you’ll be aware that this story follows Jesus’s meeting with the rich young man on the road. Remember him: he tells Jesus he keeps all the commandments, but Jesus says he must do one more thing to be justified before God: sell all your possessions, give the money to the poor and follow me. And the young man slinks away from our Lord despairing. He can’t do it.
And now Jesus meets this chief tax collector, Zacchaeus. And the little guy is actually excited to meet our Lord, he’s curious to the point of climbing up that tree, not worrying about the potential embarrassment. Why? Does he on some level of his spiritual sub conscience know that here’s a chance to get out, to escape the system he finds himself a part of, that he knows is a participation in evil, in oppression?
Well, whether or not he starts out with such thoughts, being in the presence Christ brings him to ponder a change in course in his life; and Jesus does not ask him to do anything. Nevertheless, Zacchaeus, in response to Jesus and the Good News, announces he is giving half of all his wealth away. Jesus didn’t ask him to do that. And then Zacchaeus goes on to offer compensation to anyone who can prove he has been unjust to them.
Jesus then pronounces that “salvation has come to this house.” Zacchaeus is saved!
Now, hold on. How is that fair to the rich young man on the road? Jesus asked him to give it all up. Zacchaeus only offers half.
Jesus takes what he can get. Zacchaeus is on the way, he’s on the road, he’s going in the right direction, he will know the joy of the kingdom in his good works, in the generosity that comes of the joy of the gospel. Jesus knows that Zacchaeus is hooked.
Indeed, Christian tradition says that in the years after the Resurrection, Zacchaeus eventually did give it all away, and became the bishop of Caesarea.
You know, there’s a reason Christianity is so often the target of revolutionaries. We don’t believe in social transformation by violence; we don’t believe in bullying people into submission; we don’t want the bloody red flag of revolution flying over the streets. We know this is not how things truly change for the better.
The transformation of the Roman Empire, a slave-holding, conquering, brutal regime down to what we see today as a society that still holds compassion and caring as a core value is a tremendous achievement; and it only took two thousand years! Consider the tens of thousands of years of brutality that came before.
We change this world through sharing of the Gospel, through bringing people into the presence of Christ, through the conversion of hearts and minds. Through a generosity of heart that does not seek to embarrass a man like Zacchaeus, but rather greets him wherever he is found, and graciously visits with him knowing that will set him on the road to salvation.
Amen.