Sermon
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Zacchaeus
Much
of what I do in my ministry remains private.
There are stories of pain and hurt that I will take to my grave with
me. Many people come and share personal
shortcomings, seeking relief from guilt and also direction, trusting that I
will never repeat these things and that they will get some guidance from
me. From these experiences, I have taken
inspiration, I have been greatly humbled by some of them, I have grown in my
faith because these situations have inspired me to pray more, I have gone home
in tears because some of them are so sad.
There are many things I wish I could share with the congregation, some
because they are so inspiring, some because they show so clearly the power of
God, and some because they are so sad—they make some of our everyday problems
seem so petty. Some, however, can be
shared, some people have asked me in fact to share their problems with others
in the hope that help can come to them from us as a community. If you look on the prayer list in the weekly
bulletin, every person on there has a story, and every person is sharing their
story in part, because they’ve asked to be on a community list so we can pray
for them. There are people in our
community, and we, all of us, have the power to offer that help. For instance, what if you knew that a devout
member of our community was dying and did not have life insurance—would you
feel sorry for them? Would you reach in
your wallet and take out $100 and say, I’ll go without something so you can
have a proper funeral?” Or would you
shake your head and just walk away, saying, “Not my problem,” or “Stinks to be
them.” What would you do if you knew of
someone in this parish who was lonely and needed someone to talk to? Would you give up some of your time and
listen, or just brush it off and think to yourself, “someone else will take
care of that”? What would you do if
someone came into the coffee hour and sat by themselves at a table? Would you invite them to sit at your
table? Or would you even notice? What would you do if I told you specifically,
“There is someone in this community that is your age, that does the same job
you do, who comes from a similar background, who needs a friend, and I thought
of you.” Would you be mad at me for imposing? Would you make an effort to be the friend
they needed? What would you do if you
asked someone “how are you?”, and they said, “my whole life is falling apart, I
need to talk to someone right now.”
Would you cancel your plans for the rest of the day, or would you say,
“there, there,” and quickly go your way?
If
you walked in my shoes for a month, you’d know at least four things. You’d know that there is a God. You’d know that there is a lot of hurt in our
world, and in our own community. You’d
know that there is no way that one priest can get to all the people. And you’d know that there are some concrete
things you could do to help, if you just invested the time to look around and
get to know some people.
The Gospel lesson of this morning tells
us that Jesus was passing through
Zacchaeus, the Gospel tells us, was a
short man and could not see Jesus on account of the large crowd. And he could not get to the front of the
crowd because he was so unpopular.
Ironically, the name Zacchaeus means “the pure and innocent one.” But as the crowds looked at Zacchaeus trying
to get a glimpse of Jesus, they saw anything but a pure and innocent
person. Here was the town lowlife, the
dishonest tax man, and they certainly were not going to give him a front row
seat to see Jesus, the one who personified goodness, purity, innocence, and all
the values that Zacchaeus did not have.
Undeterred, Zacchaeus ran ahead of
Jesus and the crowd and climbed into a sycamore tree and waited for Jesus to
pass that way. When Jesus came to the
place, He looked up and saw Zacchaeus, up in the tree, and He said to him,
“Zacchaeus, make haste and come down, for I must stay at your house
today.” The greeting and invitation of
Jesus were very personal. He didn’t tell
Zacchaeus to come to the Synagogue some Saturday to listen to Him as He
explained the scriptures. He didn’t tell
him to make an appointment with one of the disciples so that He can see him in
His office. He didn’t refer Zacchaeus to
some committee or think for one second, “Someone else can take care of
this.” Jesus completely stopped in His
journey and changed the course of His entire trip, of His entire day. He didn’t put off for a second what needed to
be done at that moment. Why? Because Jesus came “to seek and to save the
lost,” and the lost sheep in
Zacchaeus was moved indeed that Jesus
had not only stopped to talk to him, the town pariah, but that Jesus said to
him, “I MUST STAY at your house, and I must stay there TODAY!” And this encounter with Jesus changed
Zacchaeus’ whole life. Zacchaeus came
down from the tree a changed man, changed because He had had an encounter with
Christ, changed because He felt that Christ loved even him. In fact, he realized that Jesus cared about
him so much that He altered the course of His journey and went to be a guest in
his home, even listened to all the people in the crowd complain about it. And he pledged in front of everyone to repent
of his sinful ways. He said, “Look Lord,
I give half of my goods to the poor; and if I have taken anything from anyone
wrongly, I restore not only what I took, but four times what I took.” The crowd, upset that Jesus had stopped His
journey and had decided to spend so much time with Zacchaeus, complained
saying, “He has gone to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.” And Jesus responded, “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.”
There are many lessons to be taken from
this Gospel lesson,--the anger of the crowd towards Jesus because He paid
attention to Zacchaeus. The great
repentance, the great change in Zacchaeus; the inclusiveness of Christ, who
came for everyone, even people like Zacchaeus, the ingenuity of Zacchaeus who
was kept outside the crowd but was undeterred in his desire to get to
Christ..
But I want to focus on the issue of
immediacy. How Jesus looked into the
heart of this man, and He saw two things—He saw the potential for good, and He
saw how His soul was wounded and needed healing. And He stopped His entire journey, His entire
day, to take care of Zacchaeus—He didn’t put off for tomorrow what needed to be
done today.
I will share a couple of the highlights
and the lowlights of the last week with you.
I became aware of a very sad situation in our community, involving
someone who is very sick, whom I think many of us can help. I went home very sad that day. I asked someone to visit this person, and the
person whom I asked eagerly did so. That was a highlight. I will be asking more
of you to help with this situation, and others like it, in our community, and I
am hoping you’ll respond with a generous outpouring of support. I received a complaint about something that
in the big picture of things is pretty petty, with a veiled threat, that if I
don’t comply, someone will leave the community.
I’m sad about that thing. Because
in the big picture, this community is about seeking and saving the lost, it’s
about finding Zacchaeus and ministering to him.
I’ve said it again and again, I’ll minister to the needs, the wants are
not that important—please learn to classify appropriately when asking me to do
something. As I was feverishly writing
the Messenger for February, I examined our stewardship totals for this year and
was both pleased and disappointed—pleased that our average pledge at this
moment is exactly $1,000 per family.
Disappointed, however, that only half of our families have pledged so
far, disappointed that there are some people whom God has richly blessed,
because I’ve seen your cars, I’ve been to your homes, who are still putting
down $50 or $100 a year when they could and should do so much more. That was a lowlight. And then I received a phone call from a young
person who recently went to an Orthodox conference for college students, who
was so inspired by the experience, she decided to go to Alaska on a mission
trip this fall. Another highlight.
Sometimes I think my job is more of a
salesman than a teacher. A teacher
educates those who want to know more. A
salesman tries to convince the disinterested to buy. It makes me sad when my role becomes that of
salesman, or referee or politician.
Because it is supposed to be teacher, preacher, and healer. It makes me sad when so much energy in our
church is spent on keeping the constituents happy, rather than seeking their
spiritual growth and healing. And I
guess because there are still so many that need convincing and prodding to do
the right thing, I take on these roles which take time away from my true
ministry as a priest. I ask your
forgiveness for saying that parenthesis.
I spent some of this past week frustrated with a couple of you, I cried
when I heard the pain of some of God’s children in this parish this week, I
smiled when I saw the enthusiasm of a couple of them.
This morning’s Gospel passage is
compelling because it calls us to action.
The mission of Christ, to seek and to save the lost, is also the mission
of Christ’s church. Have you ever
thought of the church as it relates to this story? Imagine that our church is like Jesus, and
--Zacchaeus is the person who comes to
visit our church who has never been to an Orthodox Church; someone who is
seeking something different in their spiritual life.
--Zacchaeus is the person who tries a
new church every Sunday, who doesn’t even know what Orthodoxy is, who can’t
seem to have their thirst for spirituality quenched anywhere they go.
--Zacchaeus is the new arrival to
--Zacchaeus is the man or woman who is
going to marry or who is married to an Orthodox Christian in the Church and is
struggling to decide whether to make Orthodoxy their own faith.
--Zacchaeus is the parishioner who has
attended church for many years but who is still not sure what to make of
Orthodoxy.
--Zacchaeus is the person struggling to
see Jesus but having a difficult time because they are surrounded by a crowd of
tragedies or unfortunate life circumstances that make Christ seem far away, the
person who has scars from childhood, or an abusive relationship, or the
negative outcome of a job or business venture, or the sadness and grief that
come with losing someone they love.
--Zacchaeus is the teenager struggling
with their identity as an Orthodox Christian and what it means to live a
Christian life at all times and in all places.
--Zacchaeus is the senior citizen who
fights to stay positive even though their health is declining.
--Zacchaeus is the person tenuously
clinging to life, whose every day is a challenge, just to survive.
--Zacchaeus is the one who is caring
for that person
--Zacchaeus is the person who goes to
work everyday, the mother that stays home raising children. . .
--Finally, Zacchaeus is everyone in
this parish, in this town, in this country and in this world who seeks to know
who Jesus is.
The mission of this parish, indeed the
mission of the Orthodox Church, is to seek and to save the lost. The mission of the church is not fulfilled
when we balance the books or fill the
calendar with programs. The mission of
this parish is fulfilled when we find Zacchaeus and we minister to him, when we
make his concern our concern, when we show that we are willing to alter the
course of our life to help him, when we take on the role of Christ in telling
Zacchaeus, “make haste and come down, I must stay at your house today.”
The ministry of our church is not to
preach money, it’s to preach Christ.
That’s why it is so sad to have to beg for money just to keep the doors
open, or to keep the iconography from falling down. Having a wedding in our church is not about
flowers or china sets, but about asking Christ to make a holy union between two
people—that’s why it’s so sad when couples fight about china sets or whether
they’ll have a band or a DJ. Be grateful
you have your health—I learn that over and over again in this ministry. I’ve got my health, I’ve got a beautiful
family—I’ve got no real problems, just some minor irritations—and that
describes most of us. Most of us make
petty things into problems—there are some people who are fighting to stay alive,
people who are filled with sickness, sorrow, sadness—these people have real problems.
The mission of the parish is to find
Zacchaeus, and to compel him to come and share the joy of Christ. Jesus told Zacchaeus “Make haste and come
down from there, for I must stay at your house.” We need to think, as individual people, but
more importantly, collectively, as a parish, who is Zacchaeus, how can we find
him, can we compel him to come and see what we are doing here, and when he
comes and sees, will he be compelled to stay?
Will he be welcomed enthusiastically?
Will he see a church that radiates the love of Christ? When we see Zacchaeus in our fellow
parishioners, we shouldn’t look at him in terms of pity or even compassion, but
in terms of help. And when we think
about the word love, we should be thinking of the kind of love that Christ had
for Zacchaeus, the kind of love where He altered the course of his day, even
though He was ridiculed for doing so; where He was willing to do anything to
help Zacchaeus, even if it meant altering His life to do so. I remember a priest who spoke about those to
whom we are called to minister. And he
said, “They don’t need your pity, they don’t need your compassion, they need
your help.” And sometimes a stewardship pledge
or a prayer is not enough, though it’s a good place to start—it’s holding a
hand, it’s lending a shoulder to cry on, it’s listening to someone, rather than
talking to them. And sometimes it is
prayer, fervent prayer. And sometimes it
is money, a lot of it.
Have you ever seen yourself as
Zacchaeus, somehow unable to get to Christ.
A member of the church for your whole life but still filled with more anger
over your past rather than hope for your future, a member of our church who
still sees it as a place to have fellowship with friends rather than a place to
commune with the Lord. The person who is
on the outside looking in who can’t find the sycamore tree, or who lacks the
courage or the strength to climb it.
The Son of Man came to seek and to save
the lost. This is the mission of the
church. This is a very serious
calling. There are some whom we will
have years to reach. And there are a few
we’d better get after today, either because they won’t have years, or because
they need not carry a hurt that can be healed today with your help. We need the stewardship—we need it today—we
need it with sacrificial generosity. And
along with that, we need caring and we need compassion, so that all of God’s
children whose lives resemble Zacchaeus can get to Christ, and get to Him
today. We can’t continue, as people, or
as a parish, to talk philosophically about helping in the future—we need to get
busy helping today.
The life of Zacchaeus was changed
because Christ took an interest in Him.
What if I told you that you had the power to positively change a life,
just by taking an interest in someone?
Would you think I’m crazy? Or
would you look for a person and do just that?
I leave you with this message—you have that power to change a life, to
bring the light of Christ to someone, just by taking an interest. The choice to do so, is yours. Amen.