KCL Chapel
Autumn term Sermon Series
9th November 2016
Luke 19:1-10
ZACCHAEUS
May I speak in the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
From Sunday School onwards, we know and love Zacchaeus, the short sinner who scooted
up a tree to avoid missing his chance to see Jesus. If I started singing ‘Zacchaeus was a very
little man; I’m confident that many of you could join in. We’re so familiar with the story of
how his Encounter with Jesus changed him so dramatically.
This section of Luke’s gospel is framed by a question of the disciples in response to Jesus’
encounter with the Rich Ruler in the previous chapter. A man who knew and fulfilled all the
requirements of the law, but could not rise to Jesus’ challenge to sell his possessions and
follow him. The disciples are, as usual, incomprehensive, asking ‘who then, can be saved’. If
this faithful, successful man cannot, who can?
In Zacchaeus, we have another rich man, and the answer to the disciples’ questions. As a tax
collector, quite the opposite of the righteous ruler. A collaborator with the occupying
brutes. An extorter of his own people for personal gain. Widely hated. Sinner. And yet,
Zacchaeus seems able to respond to Jesus with repentance and an overwhelming generosity
in a way that the apparently righteous man could not.
‘Who then, can be saved?’ Jesus tells us. Zacchaeus, the sinner can. Salvation has come in
his house. He has realised his manifold sins, repented whole-heartedly, and is saved by the
Son of Man.
And yet, perhaps in our familiarity with this reading of this story of salvation, we’ve
misunderstood the true nature of the transformation that takes place as a result of this
encounter.
Because there’s something of a debate around the tense of the verbs in verse eight. The
NRSV version which we just heard, has Zacchaeus making a promise to give away half his
possessions, at some point in the – we assume, near - future, and likewise he will pay back
four times anything he has defrauded. And yet, in the KJV, they more accurately translate
the Greek tense, as Zacchaeus uses the present tense, not the future. ‘I am giving half my
possessions to the poor’, ‘I am making restitution’. What if he is already giving abundantly,
generously, with honest zeal, before he encounters Jesus directly, not in response to
meeting him. In this interpretation, Zacchaeus is not offering up his wealth in repentance,
but is offering a challenge in response to all those present who call him a sinner. An
explanation in contradiction to their assumption about him, based on their knowledge of his
wealth and job.
‘Who then, can be saved’? Perhaps it is actually those who are grumbling who require
salvation, and not Zacchaeus at all. Perhaps he grasped what the requirements of the law
were pointing to all along, and that’s why he was so desperate not only to see Jesus, but to
see who Jesus was. Perhaps those who need to repent are actually the ‘All who saw it’, and
grumbled. Crowd, followers, disciples, the whole lot. They couldn’t be open-hearted enough
to rejoice in their Lord engaging with one who they resented. One they viewed as a sinner.
Someone with whom their prophet should not be wasting time or breaking bread.
If we see this story of Zacchaeus’ encounter as being about a dramatic transformation of a
terrible sinner, then it’s very easy for it not to be a story about us. Of course we learn
something from Zacchaeus about repentance and generosity. But most of us probably don’t
consider ourselves major-league sinners on the scale of collaborators with oppressive
regimes and corrupt officials who enrich themselves at the cost of the exploited poor.
But if we see this as a story for all those who grumble, then it is also a story about salvation
from a different set of sins, little sins which creep in quietly and take root. Sins of
judgement, not extortion. Sins of hard-heartedness. Of a lack of willingness to open our eyes
to see a Saviour who insists on staying in the homes of those we really don’t like.
Who might we look up at in that tree and resent our Lord favouring over us? To my shame I
can think of plenty, and very quickly. Our modern day equivalents of the despised tax
collectors. Oh yes, I may well grumble if Jesus stopped and stayed at their houses.
‘Who then, can be saved?’ Perhaps this encounter is not primarily for the sake of Zacchaeus
at all. Perhaps he’s already saved. Perhaps it’s for everyone else, the grumblers, for us and
all those like us. The not-quite-so-terrible-as-all-that sinners. Challenging our human-made
divisions, assumptions and judgements about who is, in fact, a sinner at all. Showing us once
again the welcome that Jesus extends which constantly subverts our expectations.
This, slightly different, interpretation of a familiar story rings true to me, because whilst
Luke’s gospel has plenty of individual accounts of salvation, it also points to the Kingdom of
God as transforming society as a whole. Certainly, each individual is challenged to make a
choice in response to their own encounter with the Lord. But Jesus’ ministry is also about a
much wider reconciling of creation with God, and within that, reconciliation between people
within society and communities, with each other as well as individually with God. There are
many accounts in Luke’s gospel of healings which signal the in-breaking of the Kingdom of
God enabling people to be full members of society and worshipping communities. The
woman with the haemorrhage who would have been prevented from entering the temple,
as would those with leprosy. All manner of outcasts and sinners. Time and time again,
encounters with Jesus break down barriers in society, in surprising and scandalising ways.
Now, hearing the news of the election of Trump this morning, I wondered if I should tear up
this whole sermon and start again. I haven’t, not only due to a morning full of meetings, and
the sense that I don’t yet have the words to respond to this news, but also because I trust in
God to speak through a sermon prayerfully crafted, even when I didn’t know what the news
would bring. And perhaps, actually, this passage is a good text to ponder today if it calls us
to examine our own hearts. Trump may yet surprise us by being a faithful, generous, open-
hearted man. But even if he doesn’t, we are not called to hatred, despair or cynicism in
response. At times like this, all I can do is to cling to the foundations of my faith, the
knowledge that we are called to love. And then work out how to express that in a world
seemingly increasingly better and divided. How do we, as individuals and a church, work to
bring about something of that reconciliation which Jesus brought through his encounters?
Having said that, as Christians we are not called to passive acquiescence with the powers of
this world. Anyone following the lectionary for Morning Prayer at the moment, reading
Daniel and Revelation, will be reminded of how God, ultimately, deals with those who
misuse and abuse power. We must all, as Christians, prayerfully consider how we stand with
our vulnerable Saviour before the power of Empire, and dare to challenge their
mistreatment of the vulnerable, the understanding of what constitutes true power, and
their definition of ‘truth’.
Zacchaeus’ encounter shows us that we all need transforming, our attitudes, our
judgements on others, our (mis)understandings of our Saviour. Not just the major-league
bad guys, though we may pray for a conversion for them too! And it certainly teaches us
that just standing around that metaphorical tree grumbling is not a great way to go about
that.
We don’t know what happened after Zacchaeus’ encounter with Jesus. Surely, wherever he
started from, it transformed him as he gladly welcomed his Lord in. Hopefully, many of
those who failed to have the eyes to see the depth, breadth and height of the grace and
love of God were also transformed. And I pray that this encounter continues to transform us
too, as we examine our own hearts and response to Jesus’ startling love for those who we
had, in our hearts, already written off.
Amen.
Carrie Myers,
USPG & Member of General Synod