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Sermon
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ZACCHAEUS – LOOKING FOR A CHANGE His retort set me back. “John, you’re a very lucky man. You have a profession, a purpose in life that satisfies you, and a meaning system that guides and empowers you. This guy is in a …. job. (He used a coarse word). He only comes alive on week-ends when he can pack up the family and escape. Five days of slaving in a job he hates is the price he pays for two days of feeling fully alive. If you could understand that, you might see why he is now in debt up to his neck.” So to Zacchaeus. Although not at all short of money (Luke says he was rich), Zacchaeus was a man far from happy in his work. He was employed in Jericho by the Romans to supervise collection of taxes from his fellow citizens. As such he would have been unpopular, probably shunned and possibly subject to the occasional act of violence. His income would have been substantial, but the social costs also would have been considerable. We have no mention of his family, but it is safe to assume that they too would pay a price for their breadwinner being employed by Rome. “Papa, must you work for Caesar? The neighbours cross the street when they see us coming. They say you are not a good son of Abraham.” Zacchaeus would sit by himself under his olive trees and wonder how he got into this predicament. His kids were right in what they said. He was a man looking for a change – in three ways. I
Zacchaeus was looking for a better purpose. This weird but winsome wandering minstrel from the Galilee sang of a different kind of world. He said “Imagine a world where Caesar is no longer on the imperial throne, but God the just and merciful one is enthroned.” The Galilean called this ‘the kingdom of God’. To Zacchaeus it rang with mystery and magic; could it ever be? Curious, he made his way to the place where Jesus – ‘Yeshua’ the Galilean – was expected to pass. We’ll come back to Zacchaeus in a moment. A year or so ago a man I guessed was in his early thirties struck up a conversation on the train. “Do you remember me?” Rather than say ‘no, I don’t remember you’ (not a nice thing to say to anyone), I said, “I fancy I do; help me with it.” In his teens he had been linked with a Uniting church; his parents said they knew me. Curiosity had brought him to the Chaplaincy at Melbourne University to say ‘hi’. It was early 90s, and he was in Engineering. I saw little of him thereafter, but began to remember. He had been thick-set with longish hair and scruffy beard back then; now was slimmer, short-haired and clean-shaven. But I remembered the voice and speech patterns; he had an unusually deep voice and spoke deliberately. “In my social life I felt it necessary to keep up the engineers’ reputation; knew every pub in the district. Didn’t do much else, and didn’t want to. That’s probably why you didn’t see a lot of me. I remember you buying me lunch at the staff club and asking how I proposed to leave the world a better place. In my last year, I had a girl friend in Amnesty International. I didn’t join the group, but in O Week I helped them set up their stall. Their passion about human rights made me think about your question.” I asked what he was doing now. He said he was an engineer, in a good job that paid well. “But it’s a means,” he said. “My real passion since graduating has been Amnesty. I chair a group. I’ll probably quit engineering in a few years and work for Amnesty if they’ll have me.” He had found a better purpose, a life-expanding mission in human rights work. Jesus would have been pleased. II
The second thing Zacchaeus was looking for was a better self. Zacchaeus didn’t like what he was doing, and he didn’t like himself very much. There’s a close connection between feeling good about what we’re doing, and feeling good about ourselves. In any case, people in Jericho who were not Caesar-sympathisers called him abusive and disparaging names. Hear it often enough, and you start to believe it – even if you didn’t before. This was the case with a girl most in her circle called ‘Alf’. I knew her some years ago, when a casual conversation led to my arranging counselling for her. I have permission to tell the story. Why should she bear a male nickname? The explanation lay in her schooldays, around years 11 and 12. ‘Alf’ was a variation on ‘alpha’, a term often applied to males. In the animal world an alpha male is the dominant male in a pack of wolves, or similar pack or troop of animals – that other members submit to and follow, and that gets priority in the mating season. The term is also sometimes used of females. An alpha female is one that controls the activities of a group and to whom others defer. This is how ‘Alf’ got her name. She was a very dominant young lady, and continued to be so through her 20s. The nickname was given her not by boys (although they knew it), but by other girls. She hated it, because she knew it packaged stuff that others disliked in her. I did not feel qualified to help her go deep into all this; I knew she wished she could be less dominant and more liked, and I directed her to a woman counsellor I knew. But there seemed to be an obvious and good explanation. ‘Alf’ was the youngest in a family of six, with all the others being boys. She had grown up in a competitive male environment, where her survival depended on being as tough as any boy. But she wanted to be different; that is the key, as it was with Zacchaeus. He wanted a better self, and sought Jesus' help with this. III
The third thing Zacchaeus wanted was a better ethic. Actually, he had been well ‘kitted out’, shall we say, as a son of Abraham. He knew the commandments, he knew what the prophets taught. He had been initiated in the Torah, and had gone to synagogue through his teens. But somehow he had mislaid a lot of this. It was like he needed someone authentic, who had the power to call him back to all these good things and help him re-start his life. At the very least, there’s a hint of urgency here, perhaps even desperation, in the way the event is recorded. Luke makes a point of saying that Zacchaeus was ‘vertically challenged’. As such, his view of the Jesus party could easily be blocked – especially by a crowd few of whom wanted him around. And so, according to Luke, he shins up a sycamore tree. Jesus spots Zacchaeus up the tree, turns and addresses him. “Zacchaeus, hurry up and come down. I’m going to be your guest today.” So Zacchaeus climbs down and welcomes Jesus. But the bystanders grumble their disapproval. “Now he has gone to stay with a sinner!” Then Zacchaeus stops and said to Jesus, “Look, sir, I will give half my property to the poor. And if I’ve swindled anyone out of anything, I’ll pay him back four times as much.” Zacchaeus knew the official teaching about recompense, but says he will go well beyond that: the kind of thing Jesus taught. For Jesus the spirit was more important than the letter. Where did that come from? Let me close by explaining where we believe this originates. When Jesus was born around 5 BCE, there were two great schools of thought in Judaism: the house of Hillel and the house of Shammai. Hillel was born in Babylonia and through his rabbinic studies in Jerusalem supported himself as a woodcutter. He became renowned for his kindness, his gentleness and his concern for humanity. Shammai was an engineer, known for the strictness of his views. There were many disputes between the followers of Shammai and the followers of Hillel. The Jewish Talmud tells that a gentile came to Shammai saying he would convert to Judaism if Shammai could teach him the whole Torah while standing on one foot. Shammai was furious at this, and took to the man with a stick. Hillel said he could do it. He converted the gentile by saying to him, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbour. That is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary. Go and study it.” Modern ‘Jesus Research’, to which our minister has introduced us, reveals that much of Jesus’ teaching comes straight from Rabbi Hillel – who may well have instructed him personally. For Jesus, ‘ethical conduct’ began in that simple axiom of Hillel – ‘that which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbour.’ Deep down Zacchaeus knew that too, and Jesus gave him the impetus and the incentive to be a changed man. That’s why Jesus could say “Salvation has come to this house today!” Thanks be to God. ___________________________________________________
An
address presented by the Rev Dr John Bodycomb at St Aidan's
Uniting Church North Balwyn, on 4th November, 2007 IT MAY BE
REPRODUCED WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF AUTHORSHIP. |
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Page updated 07/11/07