LUKE 19:1-10
At that time, Jesus was passing through Jericho. And there was a man named Zacchaios; he was a chief collector, and rich. And he sought to see who Jesus was, but could not, on account of the crowd, because he was small of stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaios, make haste and come down; for I must stay at your house today." So he made haste and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw it they all murmured, "He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner." And Zacchaios stood and said to the Lord, "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold." And Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man came to seek and to save the lost."
I was very into the Lord of the Rings as a kid, long before most people even knew what it was. Only the real geeks read that stuff, those strange books about the dwarves, the elves, and the hobbits. And it felt a little odd when they finally made the books into a series of blockbuster movies, and suddenly most people, even those who never bothered to watch them, knew what a hobbit was. Those books, especially the main three, were never really children’s literature, but I think if found them so approachable when I was young because of the hobbits. As a child, it is easy to see yourself in their shoes. Well, in their furry feet – because hobbits don’t wear shoes.
I remember reading in an interview with Tolkien that he got much of his inspiration for the hobbits – those pint-sized people who liked to eat, drink, and get into all kinds of mischief – from his own children. And as a fellow parent of four, I can see where he was coming from. I sometimes feel like I’ve been living in the Shire for the past 15 years.
Those stories of Middle Earth are full of elven warriors, powerful princes, trolls, dwarves, dragons, and myriad other creatures ever more strange and dangerous. But none of those great warriors and princes are ultimately able to save Middle Earth. Rather all the machinations of these great and evil powers are ultimately undone by the work of this little, childlike race of hobbits. There is something very wonderful about that narrative, the small and the weak overcoming the large and powerful. And that’s likely why it’s a relatively common literary device. Think of the spider in Charlotte’s Web, the little tailor, jack and the beanstalk, the mouse and the lion; there is something that makes our hearts swell when we hear about the lowly, the innocent, the childlike, overcoming the great, the evil, and the powerful.
The bible loves to use this device as well. We think immediately of the young David overcoming the giant Goliath; of Gideon’s small army standing up to the Midianites; we think of the slave-born Moses standing up to the Pharaoh. And because of this, I think when Zacchaeus is introduced to us in today’s story as being small in stature, we might be excused if we are a bit pre-disposed to recognize a potential protagonist. But other than single this note regarding his diminutive size, the initial description of Zacchaeus actually pushes us in the opposite direction. Zacchaeus is described as a chief tax collector and very wealthy. It was just one chapter earlier in the Gospel of Luke that Jesus had confronted the rich prince and had lamented to his disciples that it is harder for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than for the wealthy to enter into the kingdom of heaven. So, sure, he’s a little guy. But there is a lot wrong with him.
So, if we start with a bit of mixed image, the behavior of this rich and powerful little man doesn’t help clear it up. Because as we are introduced to Zacchaeus, he is scrambling around just trying to get a look at Jesus. We immediately ask ourselves what is this chief of the sinners doing trying to get a glimpse of Jesus? And then his behavior becomes even more inexplicable. When he can’t see, because the crowd is too tall, he scrambles up a nearby tree. Why would this wealthy man behave like this?
And here’s where I’d like to suggest that Zacchaeus may share more than a little of the hobbits’ literary DNA. Luke describes Zacchaeus as mikros which was translated this morning as short, but it is exactly the same word Jesus uses when he instructs his disciples to “allow the littles ones to come unto me.” Luke is not saying Zacchaeus is a child, but I think his word choice here allows us to see something child-like in Zacchaeus’ behavior. After all, climbing trees is also a very childlike behavior.
So, why is Zacchaeus climbing that tree? Why do children climb trees? They climb trees for no reason at all, right? They climb trees for the love of the tree, for the excitement of the height, and because the sky is always so much more beautiful when seen through the topmost branches of a good climbing tree. Kids climb trees for the wonder of what they might find. And that is exactly why Zacchaeus climbed his tree – for the wonder of seeing Jesus. He had nothing to ask of Jesus, he just wanted to see him. And it is this simple act, performed with a pure heart, that catches Jesus’ attention. Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.
Thus, out of all the people swarming Jesus that day as he came into Jericho, Jesus choose this man, this little Zacchaeus, this chief of sinners, to lodge with. And notice Jesus doesn’t ask if it’s okay, he demands a place to stay. Jesus speaks to Zacchaeus like a parent would to his child, or like a lord to his servant – “Get down here immediately! I will be staying in your house today.” And Zacchaeus did not demand to be recognized as the powerful man that he was. He was not offended. Instead Zacchaeus responded just like a child, like a servant. He scrambles down the tree just as he was told and receives Jesus into his home with joy.
This story is the last one Luke tells before he tells us of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. Jerusalem will also welcome Jesus with great joy, receive him as their king. But that joy will not remain for long as Jerusalem and those who are in power there turn against their Lord and ultimately shout, “Crucify him!” Even here in Jericho we see foreshadowing of humanity’s looming betrayal. Luke tells us that, “when they saw this they all murmured, ‘He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.’”
But if we suspect that Zacchaeus may also be offering a superficial reception, the story shows us right away that this is not the case. Jesus was not mistaken when he had recognized great potential in Zacchaeus. Almost as if to prove the murmurers wrong, Zacchaeus immediately proclaims his repentance for all he has ever done. And this is not a lip service repentance, but the real deal. In front of all, Zacchaeus leaves everything behind.
“Wait!” the bean counters among you are saying. I was paying attention! He only gave half of his stuff away. And if that is what you heard, you are listening with modern ears. And I’ll admit that I heard it that way until I was preparing for today’s sermon. And I ran into many sermons trying to figure out this dilemma, of why Jesus tells the rich prince to give away everything and then seems so pleased when Zacchaeus gives away half. So don’t feel bad, you’re not alone. Today being a tax collector is a legitimate occupation. You can work for the IRS and make a decent wage without stealing from anyone. It’s like being an accountant. There is nothing inherently sinful about being a tax collector.
But when you start to read pre-modern sources, they have a very different view of tax collecting. Tax collectors were given a territory and an amount by their lord. They then went household to household collecting as much as they could. The only way a tax collector earned money was by collecting more than he needed. So by ancient standards, any money Zacchaeus had, and certainly any wealth he had accumulated, was considered ill-gotten gain. St. Theophylact, writing in the 11th century, reflects this older understanding when he writes: “Publicans get their livelihood from the tears of the poor.” So when these readers hear Zacchaeus offer to pay back four times what he had stolen, they immediately realize that he is offering to pay back his entire estate four times over.
The other detail worth noting is that when Zacchaeus is offering to pay back at a rate of four-to-one, he is intentionally citing the Old Testament law. For instance, in Exodus, if you were caught stealing one of your neighbor’s sheep, you owed him four sheep in return. So what we should also recognize in this proclamation is a two-step declaration. Zacchaeus is both proclaiming his intention to fulfill the law of Moses by paying back anyone he cheated four times over. And then he is also recognizing the law of Christ, in fact placing it first, by taking half his estate and giving it to the poor.
St. Theophylact describes it this way, “Even if we consider this with exactness, we will see how he has nothing left of his estate. For he gives half of his estate to the poor, and only half remains with him. Of this remaining half, he again gives four times to those he offended. Therefore, if the life of this elder of the tax collectors consisted of untruths, and he returns four times for everything that he acquired by untruth, then look how he lost everything. In this respect, he turns out to be philosophically above the Law, a disciple of the Gospel, since he loved his neighbor more than himself.”
This promise to give away his entire estate four times over was not, of course, the work of a moment. This would be the work of a lifetime. And it was. Indeed, the Church tells us that Zacchaeus went on to be a disciple, an apostolic traveling companion of Peter, and eventually bishop of Caesarea in Palestine. This is doubtless why his name is remembered by the Church, and that of the rich prince is long forgotten.
I think this is the point. When Luke tells the story of the rich prince in chapter 18 and then Zacchaeus in chapter 19, I think it is so we might compare the two. See how the wealthy prince approaches Jesus in an attempt to justify himself. And how different he is from Zacchaeus, who approached Jesus just to see Jesus! The prince tells us that he has kept the law from his youth up, but when Jesus tells him that to inherit the heavenly kingdom he must give all that he has to the poor, the rich prince leaves sorrowful because he finds this task too much to bear. But Zacchaeus, that miraculous Zacchaeus, even though he had flaunted the law his entire life, chooses in a moment to abandon all without a single instruction from Christ. Luke begins this literary diptych by making it absolutely clear that the burden of wealth can make it nearly impossible for the rich to inherit the kingdom of heaven, and then he concludes it by showing us that nothing – absolutely nothing – is impossible with God!
St. John Chrysostum has a very descriptive passage talking about how Zacchaeus prepares for Jesus’ visit. I think it will help us figure out what we are to make of this story. If you’re like me, you don’t spend your days worrying about what to do with your overabundant wealth. But Chrysostum makes this story pertinent to all of us when he writes: “Zacchaeus did not run to his neighbors asking to borrow curtains, and extra seats, and chairs made of ivory, he didn’t bring out luxurious hangings from his closets; but instead he adorned his home with adornments suitable to Christ. With what? Giving half his goods to the poor and restoring fourfold to those he had robbed. In this way let us too adorn our houses, so that Christ may enter into us also. These acts are the fair curtains wrought in heaven, they are woven there. And where these curtains are, there also is the King of Heaven.”
For St. John Chrysostum, we must prepare for Jesus as if he is coming to our house today, for indeed he already stands at the door knocking. Have you set a place for him? Readied his room? He’s not concerned with the age of your couch or the size of your TV or the quality of your food. None of these things are how he will judge you or your home. He is inviting you to join him for a spiritual banquet. And Zacchaeus shows us just how to prepare for such a feast. Acts of charity, mercy, and justice are the decorations that Jesus is hoping to see laid out on our table and adorning the walls of our hearts. It is the contrite heart that is the sacrifice acceptable to God.
Are these the items we have prepared? Or are we secretly hoping to have our cake and eat it too, to have pleasure on this earth and in heaven as well? This is not the feast Jesus is hoping to find, it is just the opposite – “He who saves their own life,” Jesus taught, “will lose it; while they who lose their life for my sake, will gain it.” And it is with this question that I will leave you. Are we going to be like the rich prince, keeping the law in hopes that the Lord will in the end allow us to keep our lives? Or will we be like the little Zacchaeus? Will we be brave enough to offer up the entirety of our heart and our soul and our mind to our neighbors, just as if it is to our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ, to whom be all glory, honor, and worship forever. Amen.