On his way to Jerusalem, Jesus passed through Jericho. The city lay at the intersection of major trade roads and was a beehive of commercial activity. In the Roman province of Judea, it was one of the top markets for the collection of tolls and fees. The system was simple and effective: the collection rights for all districts were auctioned off by the Roman authorities to the highest bidder, then the bidder paid the governor and hired locals to collect tolls at bridges and gates.
In Jericho, Zacchaeus had won the auction. He wasn’t just a tax collector; we’ve met plenty of them already in Luke’s gospel. He was a chief tax collector. Whatever bothered people about tax collectors, Zacchaeus represented, as they say, a whole nother level of bad. And he was rich. Luke doesn’t tell us how Zacchaeus got rich, but a good number of people in Jericho probably would have been quick to tell you that that fancy house of his had been paid with coins from their pockets. Needless to say that he wasn’t a popular man. People shunned him, ignored him when they could, and the day Jesus came to town, they could.
The streets were packed with onlookers, and Zacchaeus wanted to see who Jesus was, but he couldn’t, on account of the crowd and since he was small in stature. He didn’t measure up, both in terms of his height and on the likability index. He was a short fellow, and nobody was going to let him through. When I picture the scene in my mind, I see somebody like Danny DeVito staring at the backs of a wall of people standing shoulder to shoulder, with barely a crack between them. He stretches his neck, stands on the tip of his toes, he even attempts a few jumps, but he can’t catch a glimpse of the man he wants to see. Luke tells us that eventually he ran down the street a little way, and he climbed a tree for a better view. You have to like the fellow; so determined to see who Jesus was, he didn’t mind that everybody was laughing at him.
Zacchaeus was rich, and in Luke news about the rich is consistently bleak: They are the ones sent away empty when the hungry are filled with good things.[1] They are the fools who can only think of building bigger barns after a good year.[2] They are the gluttons feasting daily who don’t seem to see Lazarus starving at the door.[3] And the last time Jesus had looked into the eyes of a rich man, he said, “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”[4] But rich as he was, Zacchaeus didn’t enjoy life strolling in the sunshine of his fortune and of his neighbors’ respect. Yes, he lived in Jericho, and he may have had one of the nicest houses in town, but he didn’t feel at home. That wall of bodies he tried to squeeze through? That was something he faced every day, one way or another: being ignored, rejected, excluded.
Why did he want to see who Jesus was? It had to be more than just curiosity. No grown man runs down the street and climbs a tree like a little boy merely out of curiosity. Zacchaeus was rich, but he was cut off from the life of the community like he didn’t even exist. Perhaps he had heard people talk about Jesus, the prophet from Galilee. He may have heard them call him a friend of tax collectors and sinners, and they said it with disdain in their voices, but to him it sounded like hope, like the promise of a different kind of life. Perhaps he was sitting up in that tree because he had been wondering for some time, if it could be true: acceptance, belonging, friendship even, for someone like himself.
Haven’t you sat in that tree? Some of you may have been sitting in it for quite some time, wondering who this Jesus is, who is so compassionate, so ready to forgive, so quick to relate to any person as a beloved child of God — Jesus who heals, and challenges, and calls us with great love. You want the stories to become real in your life. You want to see him, you really want to see him, know him, be with him.
A magical moment happens in the story: Jesus comes near the tree and he looks up, and he doesn’t turn away and move on, no, he stops, and he sees Zacchaeus and says, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” Luke says, So he hurried and came down, and he welcomed him joyfully. Joy erupts! The pronouns in the scene are ambiguous. He hurried and came down, and he welcomed him joyfully. We assume it’s Zacchaeus welcoming Jesus, but it could just as well be Jesus welcoming Zacchaeus, and of course both readings are true because the welcome is mutual and the joy complete. Either was eager to see and be with the other, and now they are on the way together to the welcome table where the guest is the host and Zacchaeus is at home.
Such joy, you’d think, would be uncontainable and contagious; such joy would pull in the whole crowd, you’d think, and they would all follow the two on their way to the table of gladness—but no, the old labels are very sticky, they don’t come off that easily. All who saw it, Luke tells us, began to grumble. All who saw it didn’t see what Zacchaeus saw, didn’t see what Jesus saw. All who saw it only saw what they’d always seen, and they began to grumble.
Grumble is the perfect word here, I hear it as a blend of growl and rumble.It’s a protest that can’t quite bring itself to speak, but remains a mumbled growl, a muffled thunder, a dangerous rumble just below the surface, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.” This has been a constant in Jesus’ ministry, practically from day one. Back in Galilee, Jesus saw Levi, sitting at the tax booth, and said to him, “Follow me.” And Levi got up and followed him. And then there was a great banquet at Levi’s house, and there was a large crowd of tax collectors and others sitting at the table with them. There was joy in the house, but some who were watching, grumbled, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”[5] Notice that in those early days the grumblers were still talking to Jesus, rather than about him. Later, though, when Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, a similar scene: Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus, but some who were watching, grumbled, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”[6] According to Luke, whenever people are watching Jesus and grumbling, it’s about the same thing—sinners are drawn to him, and he just can’t distance himself properly from them; on the contrary, he appears to be quite intentional about seeking them out. The grumblers are watching, but they can’t see what Jesus sees, they can’t see what the people in his company see, they can’t see the mercy of God dancing right in front of their eyes.
Zacchaeus doesn’t grumble; he stands and speaks. “Look, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold.” Some readers think, Zacchaeus is making a promise here, that in his former life he might have been selfish, greedy, and corrupt, but from now on he would act generously and justly. Others point out that his words are in the present, not the future tense, and that apparently Zacchaeus isn’t making a promise to bear fruits worthy of repentance, but protesting against being labeled a sinner.[7] According to that reading, Zacchaeus is finally able to tell us, and we are finally able to imagine, that he is indeed a generous person with a profound sense of justice, and not the stereotypical “sinner” of our labels. Zacchaeus is the Greek rendering of the Hebrew name Zakkai, and in Hebrew the name sounds like upright, innocent, righteous. This is who the man truly is, even when all the grumblers see are labels like sinner or taxman or camel forever stuck in the eye of the needle.
Jesus said, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” Today salvation has come to this house, because in the presence of Jesus we are seen and known, we get to be who we are, and we get to see one another for who we are: sons and daughters of the covenant, siblings of Jesus, members of the household of God.
Zacchaeus wanted to see who Jesus was, and he did. In his desire to see, I hear echoes of lines from Psalm 63, O God, you are my God; I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. Zacchaeus was rich, but he was thirsting for life, for connection with his neighbors, for a sense of belonging. He wanted to see who Jesus was, because like us he had heard that others had found life in his presence. Zacchaeus was seeking Jesus, and looking down from the tree, his eyes meeting the eyes of Jesus looking up, he discovered that in this relationship he was not the only seeker; Jesus was also seeking him.
So what? What does this mean come Monday morning? For the sake of life, seek the Lord with all your heart, knowing that the Lord is seeking you. And try to remember that, no matter how sticky your labels are, no person is beyond the reach of mercy.
[1] Lk 1:53
[2] Lk 12:16-21
[3] Lk 16:19-31
[4] Lk 18:25
[5] Lk 5:27-30
[6] Lk 15:1-2
[7] The Jewish Annotated NT notes, “Zacchaeus is less repenting than he is attesting his righteousness.” David Lose asks, “Are the present tense verbs in verse 8 to be understood, in fact, as present tense, thereby describing the current and ongoing behavior of Zacchaeus (as in the RSV and KJV)? Or shall we give them a future cast, describing Zacchaeus’ penitent pledge of future behavior (as in the NRSV and NIV)?” Scholars and translators are divided. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-31-3/commentary-on-luke-191-10-2