Come down Zacchaeus, give the Lord his tea!

 

Sermon. 30/10/2022. The Fourth Sunday Before Advent

 

·        2 Thessalonians 1

·        Luke 19.1-10

 It is not my first time in this church, but it is my first Sunday here. I’d be foolish to think the question is not in the air: “What kind of a preacher will this one be?” Well, when I sense such a question, I am at least from time to time reminded of a quotation from Kierkegaard. He said:

 “People have an idea that the preacher is an actor on a stage and they are the critics, blaming or praising him. What they don't know is that they are the actors on the stage; he (the preacher) is merely the prompter standing in the wings, reminding them of their lost lines.”

Something to ponder there. I just intuited that you are a congregation who looks for a bit of a challenge.

And after challenge, there should come comfort.

And there is much comfort in today’s gospel (less so in the epistle perhaps, but I intend to focus shamelessly on the gospel).

The story of Zacchaeus is about attraction, and is attractive. And will be told today in countless Sunday schools and Messy Churches, with its own pleasant ditty.

And the attraction is real. What is, as they say, not to like? A person with a stigma, and with dubious ethics, is drawn to Jesus, simply to seeing Jesus. And he sees him, from the vantage point of a tree, and, further, has a meeting with him. They share a meal. That person turns his life around. And Jesus says: “This is what I am about, turning lives around.”  

After the comfort, another challenge?

I can reassure you that it is not my intention to “deconstruct” the story. I think the story stands. I do think that this is what Jesus is about (turning lives around). We are utterly right to take comfort in that. What I am led to do, however, is point out some ways in which the story is not as clear as some standard sermons on the story are clear. Do we know what we think we know?

Do we know what we think we know? That the person was named Zacchaeus, for example. Well, he certainly would not have said that his name was Zacchaeus, for that is an English pronunciation of a Latin version of a Greek name, Zakchaios, which was itself almost certainly a version of a Hebrew or Aramaic name. It is likely that his name was Zakki. Zakki is not related to Isaac, or Zechariah. They are from different roots. Zakki is a name with a meaning, and the meaning is “bright, shining, clean, pure”.

Is this part of the story? Did Luke know that this person-called-pure lived a life which was impure, and seen as impure by his peers? It is possible. But it happens that the scholars tell us it is unlikely, seeing Luke as gentile, and not a Hebrew speaker. All the same, part of the story is that the central character is called “Mr Pure”.

Do we know what we think we know? That this is a classic story – perhaps the classic story - of a sinner who repents? Let us look at what he actually says: “[H]alf of my possessions… I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” If the order is important, he is confident he can give half his riches away and still be able to give fourfold sums back to any he might have defrauded. If there be anyone. Which he does not claim to know.

While of course what we have are only the bare bones of the story, it is pertinent that those bare bones do not include any admission of guilt, any expression of sorrow, regret, remorse. No “sinner’s prayer”; no “act of contrition”. What we seem to have is rather an exhalation of enthusiasm and exuberance. “In your presence, Lord, I willingly give away my wealth, on whatsoever grounds!”

Do we know what we think we know? I have saved what I think is the best till last. One thing we surely know about Zacchaeus (Zakki) is that he was short. Or do we? I happen to have found myself on social media in this last week (something I do not recommend), where (alongside all the hate) there happens to have been a discussion about this verse: “He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature.” It has been pointed out that, as in the English, so in the Greek, it is semantically ambiguous who is short in stature. It might, in other words, have been Jesus who was short. So Zakki thought: If I climb this tree, I will at least be able to see the top of his head, and that may be enough.

I have been shocked at some of the responses to this plausible hypothesis. People have refused to believe that Jesus might have been short. It is as if (as if? or literally that) people really think all those images of the tall, slim, handsome, bearded hippy-like Jesus are as good as photographs. But I tell you, brothers and sisters: Jesus might have been short.

But! But it happens there is another ambiguity in the Greek. Zakki was te helikia mikros. Mikros means small. And te helikia means “in terms of growth”. In terms of growth. Perhaps you are already seeing the range of meaning? To be small (mikros) in terms of growth may mean to be short. It may also mean to be… young. This sets out quite a different story. Our friend Zakki climbed a tree… because he was young. Because (by extension) he was a bright young thing. He was a go-getter. He was in more ways than one a social climber. He had become a tax collector as he saw that as a good way of ingratiating himself with the occupying power, as well as earning wealth. And he climbed that tree because, as the bright young thing he was, he had assessed the situation carefully and eagerly, plotted the likely route, and sought a seat of honour and excellent visibility.

It is a plausible reading. I offer it as nothing more. As it happens, I still think the most likely reading is that Zakki was short. But the other reading emphasises – brings to the fore - something that really is there in the story. Zakki had worked out what was best for him to do, which was to climb that tree.

This brings us to this question: where is the real turning point in this story? Is it when Jesus sees Zacchaeus? Possibly. Is it when Zacchaeus  says he is turning his life around? Possibly. It happens that Eastern Orthodox Christians especially tend to see a different hinge. They see the turning point as when Zacchaeus… comes down from the tree.

He has climbed up high. At Jesus’ invitation (at Jesus’ command) he comes down low. He humbles himself. He returns to the earth, the land, the soil, the humus, as the humbled creature he is. This is why in Orthodoxy, in the weeks before Lent, there is a Sunday of Zacchaeus, where this is the Gospel. The idea is that repentance begins with – or takes the form of – humility. Coming down from every high tree, every high horse, every high point of security and inaccessibility where we tend to seek refuge. “Come down, Zacchaeus, give the Lord his tea!” Indeed. “Come down!”

Let us all, whether as preachers or performers, be comforted and challenged, be challenged and comforted, by the story of Zakki-Zacchaeus. Amen.