There’s a lot of great art depicting Bible stories. Not this one. So in the end, I went with a simple straightforward Sunday school visual aid. As I hunted for an illustration, I realized how conditioned we are to see Zacchaeus as a ridiculous figure. A grown person perched in a tree—how silly! Still, there’s something more to this story, as there always is with stories that involve Jesus.
There is an ambiguity in the Greek language that complicates our reading. The question is: was Zacchaeus a bad guy who had a change of heart? Or was he a good guy doing the right things all along? It depends on how we read Zacchaeus’ statement to Jesus about sharing wealth and repairing harm. The verb translated, “I will give” is actually a present tense verb. The present tense in Greek can describe future action. However, it’s also quite possible that Zacchaues was declaring what he was in the habit of doing all along. Maybe he was saying: “I already give half my possessions to the ones who have none. If I have cheated anyone, I always give them back four times as much.”
The First Nations Version reminds us that the name Zacchaeus means Pure of Heart. So I wonder if the tax collector was shown to be true to his name in a way that surprised everyone. We know, from the grumbling of the crowd, that people didn’t like Pure of Heart. “What is Jesus doing?” they muttered “Why would he go to the house of an outcast?” Tax collectors were widely disliked because they aligned themselves with the Roman empire, participating in a system of taxation that oppressed their own people . And Zacchaeus was not just any grunt. He was a chief tax collector, holding a powerful managerial position. He would have been free to cheat if he wanted, to demand extra and take an exorbitant cut for himself.
This fall, as a congregation, we’re considering the practices that help us cultivate a community for all to belong. I keep returning to Peter Block’s book simply titled Community. Specifically, today’s Gospel reading brings to mind his thoughts on leadership. Community-building leaders, Block argues, don’t fit the common stereotype – the hero, the role model, the one who casts a vision and motivates others to follow. Instead, Block says, “leadership is convening.”1 Leaders shape gatherings that allow people to embody the future they long to create. Leaders invite people to focus on gifts and generosity instead of fear and fault, and on possibilities rather than problems. Leaders do not fix things for people. They engage others and ask for their commitment – ask them whether they are willing to take responsibility for changing what needs to change. Block explains: “The world does not need leaders to better define issues or to orchestrate better planning or project management. What it needs is for the issues and the plans to have more of an impact, and that comes from citizen accountability and commitment. Engagement is the means through which there can be a shift in caring for the well-being of the whole, and the task of leader as convener is to produce that engagement.”2
No matter how we translate and read today’s Gospel story, one thing I notice is that Jesus and Pure of Heart were leaders who convened people. Despite his status as an outcast, Pure of Heart desired to be in relationship with others. He was willing to make a spectacle of himself climbing a tree in order to find out what was going on with his community and how he could be part of it. And though he worked within a corrupt system, he cared for those around him by sharing his wealth and seeking to mend the harm he had caused. Jesus, in inviting himself to the home of this tax collector created a moment of engagement and challenge. He gave Pure of Heart a platform to tell his story and be seen for who he really was—a human being seeking relationship; a disciple, committed to justice and repair. Then crowd then had to consider their own response. Would they accept Pure of Heart as a member of their community? Would they spend time in his home and get to know his family and work beside them to create a better future for everyone? “This is a good day,” Jesus said, “because this man and his family have finally been set free”—set free from stereotypes; set free from isolation; set free to belong and contribute.
Pure of Heart resembles the richest 1% of our world. They could surely afford to give half of what they have to the ones who have none. They could repay harm four times and still have plenty. And doing so would not be charity; it would be justice. It would begin to transform systems that over many generations have advantaged some and robbed others. As far as I know, none of us here have that kind of wealth. So it would be pretty easy for this story to lead us to feel dis-empowered.
And yet, here we are, once again in the season of stewardship. This is a time when we engage each other about what is at stake in our choice to belong to this First Church community. And these questions of accountability, of what we are willing to give and share in order to cultivate the world for which we long, are especially urgent now. So many people are in crisis in our current political context. With the interruption of SNAP benefits, millions are wondering how they will feed their families this month. With the proposed cuts to Medicaid, many are at risk of losing their healthcare. This authoritarian regime is growing in boldness to persecute folks because of their skin color, immigration status, gender identity, or who they love, or simply because they choose to resist and dissent.
My friends, Pure of Heart and Jesus are leaders who convene us and invite us to risk investing our lives in creating the world we long to inhabit. Our capitalistic culture and this present climate of fear, scarcity and repression urge us to shrink and isolate and protect ourselves, and hoard what we have. There’s real power and liberation in asking ourselves instead, What do I have to share? What do I want to give? How can I be part of making repair? With whom will I stand? What I am willing to do to cultivate a community of belonging? May it be so. Amen.
1 Community by Peter Block (p. 89)
2 Ibid. (p. 91)