Up In A Tree

Luke 19:1-10

November 15, 2020 • Mount Pleasant UMC

All right, everybody together, if you know the song—let’s get this out of the way because I know you’re thinking it.

Zacchaeus was a wee little man,

And a wee little man was he!

He climbed up in a sycamore tree

For the Lord he wanted to see!

And as the Savior passed that way,

He looked up in the tree,

And he said, “Zacchaeus, you come down!

For I’m goin’ to your house today!

For I’m goin’ to your house today!”

I remember singing that song so many times in the basement of the Rossville United Methodist Church—along with, of course, the motions (most of which I still remember). So whenever I hear the name “Zacchaeus,” I naturally and immediately think, “wee little man.” But there’s so much more to this man than his height. This morning, Zacchaeus will show us how to respond to Jesus and his generosity.

This morning, we’re in the second part of a two-week series called “The Generosity Challenge,” and last week, I challenged you to practice gratitude. I hope—well, I hope two things came out of that experience. For one, I hope you don’t stop. A daily practice of gratitude is good for our soul and, as we talked about last week, even for our body. And I also hope that it has given you perspective on what you have and what is important. Because that’s also what happened to Zacchaeus, as we’ll see as we walk through his story this morning.

So Jesus, we’re told, was passing through Jericho (19:1). He hadn’t intended to stay; his destination is Jerusalem. We’ve known since chapter 9 that he was headed there. Now he’s getting very close; Jericho is only twenty-three miles from Jerusalem, and it’s an uphill climb. Jericho is in the desert, an oasis of sorts, and it is still a popular place to live. My favorite tour guide in Israel, Mike, told us he plans to retire in Jericho. It is the lowest city on earth (1,300 feet below sea level) and because of that, the summers there are unbelievably hot. One fine summer day when I was there, the temperature was 132 in the shade—but it’s a dry heat! Yeah, well, it was still hot. Jericho also claims to be the oldest city on earth, having been inhabited for 10,000 years. In Jesus’ day, it was known as the “city of priests” (Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 211); a lot of priests lived there because it was close to Jerusalem and the Temple and then, like now, it was probably cheaper to live in Jericho than Jerusalem! Anyway, Jesus is passing through this city and, as is normal at this point in Jesus’ ministry, a crowd gathers. He’s a celebrity and they want to see him. So religious and non-religious alike, they all gather—including at least one tax collector, a short little man named Zacchaeus.

Of course there’s more to Zach—do you mind if I call him Zach?—there’s more to him than his limited stature. Luke tells us he is a tax collector, and we know there were few people hated more in first-century Israel than the tax collectors. For one, they were Roman collaborators, which made them in the minds of most people traitors to their own people. Tax collecting in those days worked this way: let’s say Rome expected every person to pay $1 in taxes. So they would tell the tax collector to collect that, but he also has to make money, so he would then charge you, let’s say, $1.50 and he kept the 50 cents. It was legalized extortion because Rome didn’t care how much extra their tax collectors charged, as long as they got their money. And it’s worse in Zach’s case, because he was a “chief tax collector.” That means he oversaw other tax collectors. So how do you think he made his money? It’s a pyramid scheme, everyone taking from everyone “below” them. Let’s not make a mistake here: Zach wasn’t just misunderstood. “He is not the victim of circumstance. He is a genuinely bad man…The people don’t despise him because they are close-minded and judgmental; they despise him because he is a slimy, good-for-nothing thief. And he knows he is” (Card 212).

So is it any surprise that, when he wants to see Jesus, the people stand in his way, push him away? Of course not. He’s a bad man. He doesn’t deserve to see Jesus. He’s never done anything for them, so why should they do anything for him? This scene always makes me think of being at Disney World when our kids were small and they wanted to see the parade. So we got there early and they sat up front, and I watched as adults tried to push them out of the way. I sort of picture that happening here, and Zach finally gives up. But then he sees a tree. A sycamore tree—Zacchaeus was obviously an Indiana State fan. If you go with me to the Holy Land in 2022, we’ll visit Jericho and you’ll see this sycamore tree. I highly doubt it’s “the” tree; there’s certainly no way to prove it one way or the other. But they remember Zacchaeus here and it gives us an idea of the sort of tree he turned to. He shimmied up in the branches, found a solid perch from which he could watch the parade of Jesus and the disciples passing through Jerusalem.

He had only intended to watch the parade. He just wanted to see Jesus. He hadn’t intended to be noticed, let alone be called out by name. All of these people along the road and Jesus sees Zacchaeus in the branches of the tree. All of these people who live in town, and Jesus knows Zacchaeus by name. In a city filled with priestly homes, Jesus invites himself to Zacchaeus’ house to stay. What in the world is going on here? It’s one of Luke’s main themes in his Gospel: Jesus will go anywhere and do anything to reach the least, the last and the lost, and Zacchaeus is all three.

So Zach welcomes Jesus and the disciples into his home—his fancy home, his home taken care of by slaves, his home full of rich food and lavish decorations bought with the ill-gotten money of his neighbors (cf. Wright, Luke for Everyone, pg. 222). And those same neighbors, the people who welcomed Jesus into town, begin to “mutter.” “Mutter” is a good translation; the word means to grumble, to complain, and it especially refers to a complaint that filters through a crowd. Before too long, everyone’s saying it—and this was in the days before social media! They mutter: “Have you heard? Jesus has gone to Zach’s house! All of these priests who live in town and he’s having dinner with a known sinner!” (cf. 19:7; Card 211). And in those days, eating with someone was the same as “approving” of them, of welcoming them into your social circle. For many in Jericho, this is probably a huge faux pas on Jesus’ part. Being seen with Zach just might ruin Jesus’ reputation in the eyes of the “good, religious folk.”

True, it might do that. And…it just might change Zach’s life. You know the rest of the story. It is a story, though, that challenges the way we normally think about such things. There is no preaching of a gospel message. There is no recorded altar call. There is no scene of Zacchaeus kneeling and asking Jesus to forgive him. No, here’s what happens: Jesus eats with Zacchaeus. He treats him as a beloved child of God; he treats him like no one else in town did, as a human being. And there is something in the way Jesus interacts with him that changes Zach’s heart. Maybe, like the famous Grinch Who Stole Christmas, his small heart grows three sizes that day. And so Zach stands up and makes a bold announcement. First of all, he calls Jesus “Lord.” That’s not a throwaway title. In Zacchaeus’ world, the Romans were his lord. They were in charge. Calling Jesus “Lord” here is an announcement that he has switched loyalties. In the other two things he says, he shows that he’s beginning to get it, maybe more than some of us do, because Zach’s change in loyalties means a change in his priorities.

Here’s what he declares: first of all, he’s going to give away half of what he has. All the things that make for a lavish lifestyle—he’s going to give half of it away to the poor. I’ve walked in the ruins of first-century houses in Israel, and you can tell a distinct difference between the homes that were for the “ordinary” person and the rich person. The “ordinary” persons’ homes were small, cramped and not built to last. The homes of the wealthy—they’re spacious, sprawling, in many of them, you can still see the painted plaster and tiled artwork on the floors, beauty that has survived 2,000 years. My point is this: Zach would have had a lot of nice stuff, a nice home, and a lot to give away. Think about giving away half of what you currently have. It’s not a decision that anyone would make quickly, and—let me point this out—it’s not something Jesus asked him to do. This is a decision Zach has come to on his own, as is the next one: “If I have cheated anybody” (did anyone cough at that one? They all know he has cheated not just anybody but everybody) “If I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount” (19:8). Four times the amount! In a couple of places in the Old Testament law, restitution is defined as adding one-fifth of the value to the payback, so 20% (cf. Leviticus 5:16; Numbers 5:7). If I stole a dollar from you, I’d have to give you back $1.20. In another law, if I stole a sheep from you and slaughtered it, I would have to pay back four sheep and if I stole a cow from you, I had to pay back five cows (cf. Exodus 22:1), but there’s not a clear “payback” or restitution guideline. And yet, no matter who you ask, Zach here is going above and beyond in his attempt to make things right. By the time he gives away half of what he has and pays back four times his theft (let’s just call it what it is), he’s going to be in seriously reduced financial circumstances. And for these actions, Jesus blesses him. In fact, Jesus announces that salvation has come to his house.

Wait a minute, you may be thinking (at least I hope you are)! This almost sounds like Zacchaeus has purchased his salvation. You’re always telling us, pastor, that salvation is by grace and not by anything we do. And we certainly can’t buy our way into God’s good grace. Yes, that is true. That is the consistent witness of Scripture, so what is going on here? Let’s be clear: Jesus is not giving Zacchaeus salvation in response to his actions. Jesus is announcing what has happened. There has been a definitive change in Zacchaeus, evidenced by his actions, and it’s a change that only God could work in Zach. In Judaism, repentance results in action, making amends, seeking restoration. It’s why John the Baptist called for “fruit in keeping with repentance” (Luke 3:8). It’s not enough to say, “I’m saved.” Those who are saved are expected to live like it. Jesus is announcing, not granting. He’s telling us what has happened to Zacchaeus, that this now-former tax collector has turned his life over to God and is already showing changes in his life. Because of his changed life, he has become generous—180 degrees away from where he was when he was up in the tree (cf. Card 212; Wright 223; Liefeld, “Luke,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 1007).

Luke tells this story after the story of the rich young ruler. Maybe you remember the story from Luke 18—a young man asks Jesus how he can “inherit eternal life” (18:18). And Jesus cites several commandments, which the young man says he has kept faithfully. Then Jesus tells him to sell everything and give it to the poor. I’ve said it before—that wasn’t meant to be an all-encompassing command. This was directed to this man for whom the biggest hindrance to his being able to fully follow Jesus was his possessions. And, Luke tells us, this man went away grieving “because he was very wealthy” (18:22). He couldn’t do what Jesus asked. That causes Jesus to comment that it’s hard for the wealthy to enter the kingdom of God. It’s so easy for our money, our possessions, our stuff and our status to get a firm grip on our heart. Luke wants us to compare that young man with Zacchaeus. One goes away intensely sad, unable to follow Jesus. The other opens his heart and turns his possessions into objects of repentance. One grabs more firmly to what he has. One becomes the most generous man on the block. I think Luke wants us to see both of these men and ask the question: which one is most like me? And even deeper: which one do I want to be?

“Zacchaeus was willing to listen to God and faithfully let go of all he had accumulated. By responding faithfully, Zacchaeus is able to return home to the loving and generous person he was born to be” (McKenzie & Miller, The Generosity Challenge, pg. 68). Because, as I said last week, we were born to be generous. You and me, every bit as much as Zacchaeus. For Zacchaeus, living out his new life results in generosity (cf. Wright 223). For us, if we’re becoming more and more like our generous God, a God who did not withhold his only son, then our new life ought to result in generosity as well. We are born to be and called to be generous people. Eugene Peterson put it this way: “Giving is what we do best. It is the air into which we were born. It is the action that was designed into us before our birth” (qtd. in McKenzie & Miller 68).

Mount Pleasant, generosity has been a part of the DNA of this church for a long time. Every year, including this strange one, you pack and send 500 shoeboxes to parts unknown so that children can have a Christmas gift and hear the good news about Jesus. I read a story a month ago about a whole District that packed 700 boxes, and my human/carnal response was, “Big deal, we pack 500 by ourselves!” Now, this year has been different in that regard (and in every regard, actually), but a small group dove in and got it done. The boxes will be on their way this week. Generosity! When the schools closed down in March, several of you stepped up and helped deliver meals to families who otherwise might not have had anything to eat for lunch without school in session. We focused on families with special needs students, and many of you helped deliver over 50 meals a day every day for two months. Generosity! This past summer, we participated in a community outreach event with Brian “Head” Welch, and your Leadership Council made one of the largest financial donations to the event in the community. Generosity! You have continued to support many different ministries in several locations through this pandemic. You heard about them earlier this morning: Deb Williams with Mountaintop Ministries in Haiti (and Deb has been able to make a couple of trips there recently), Jessie Oliver in Costa Rica, Andrew and Kelly Wheaton in Chile, McKenzie Barber with InterVarsity here in the Wabash Valley, and Jeff and Emily Horstman in Lafayette with their foster care ministry. And we’ve continued to support them even though the fundraisers hosted by the missions team faced unprecedented challenges this year, and we do it because of your generosity. In addition to that, we’re getting ready to embark on the Angel Tree ministry again this year, though the details are still being worked out. Angel Tree allows us to be the hands and feet of Jesus as we buy and deliver gifts from prisoners to their children. It’s another way, especially during this holiday season, we can demonstrate our generosity.

But you also know there are other areas we’ve struggled in the past year. Dwight shared some of that last week, and I don’t need to rehash what you heard then. But we want to get back to the place where we are paying our full tithe to the Annual Conference and the General Church. In case you don’t know, our tithe goes to support missionaries in other parts of the world, it supports a university that is making a huge difference in Zimbabwe, Africa, it supports our own local camps, and it supports the administrative costs of things like UMCOR so that when there is a disaster, like the many hurricanes this year, they are ready to go with help in the name of Jesus. And, for better or for worse, our connection represented in the tithe also enables you to receive the pastors you have. So, you know, make your own judgment call on that one! Together, as United Methodist Churches across Indiana, there is so much more ministry we do than we see just locally. And we would like to be able to do more in the community. As I said last week, our bills are paid—and for that we are grateful, believe me—but there is such a larger impact a church like Mount Pleasant can make in this community and around the world, and we can only do it through your generosity.

I understand—this has been a crazy year. Some of you haven't felt comfortable even coming back to church in person yet. I get it. These last two weeks of quarantine have exposed some of my own fears and the unease in my own heart. The rising COVID numbers in our community have caused us to make some adjustments to ministries again; it really has been a day-by-day thing. And I know there have been some uncertainties in the economy and the job market, and with an election and seemingly no end to the virus and a whole lot of other unknowns in 2021, it’s easy to be tentative, to be timid in moving forward. It’s easy for us to feel like Zacchaeus, so small next to all the bigger problems. I got to thinking about all the “world’s biggest” things over in Casey, and how small you feel when you stand next to those things. I think that’s probably how Zacchaeus felt a lot of the time, and I imagine that’s how a lot of us feel these days. But now is not the time to give up. Friends, we serve a God who is bigger than all of that. No, now is the time we need to “get up in a tree” to see the bigger picture. We get up in the tree and we listen for Jesus to call our name. “I’m coming to stay at your house today.” I want to use you to change the world. I’m bigger than all of this, and in fact, I’m giving you a brand new opportunity to do new things, to reach new people, to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. Yes, it’s a new day. Yes, it’s a new normal. And yes, things may never be like they were again. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad or it’s doom and gloom. It actually means there is room for God to work in a new way—through you and me and through our Zacchaeus-like generosity.

So here’s the “ask.” Today is what I usually call “Generosity Sunday,” though several years ago I was told by a rather cynical church member that I could “dress it up” any way I wanted to, but everyone knows it’s when we’re asking for money. So this is the ask. This is the moment when we ask you to make a pledge for the coming year, to make a statement of your intended generosity to God through this church. I’ve never been timid in asking because I believe in the mission of this church and the mission of the kingdom of God that much and because I fully participate in that mission. Years ago, when we were in seminary, Cathy and I made the decision to tithe, to give ten percent to the local church, and then give beyond that to missionaries whose ministry we believe in. And I have to tell you, it wasn’t easy. We didn’t have a whole lot of money in those days, but we did it. We stayed the course, and there have been times when it would have been helpful to hang onto that ten percent, keep it in our own account. But we believe the Scriptures when it says that we can test God by giving the tithe (the only place in the Bible where we’re told people can test God—Malachi 3:10) and that he will bless us for being faithful. And he has. He has provided for us. I believe he will do the same for you when you’re faithful.

So will you live into who you are and give generously to a God who has given generously to you? This year, due to the pandemic and other factors, we have an online pledge card. There are paper cards if you’d prefer, but we’d really like to ask you to use the online card if you can. The weblink is on the screen right now (bit.ly/mtp2021) or you can get to the pledge care through the church app. You go to “More” and then choose the “Pledge Card” tab at the top. It will ask you for several “required” things like name, email address and phone number. Then there are places to enter information about your giving to the general fund for 2021, as well as additional “above and beyond” commitments to the building/debt fund and the missions team. You’ve heard last week and this about the needs in those areas as well. And, if you’d like information on giving online or help in setting that up, check that box and someone will be in contact with you. That is an efficient and effective way to give these days.

So, I’m going to ask Pastor Rick to come and lead us in prayer and then he’ll give us some time to fill out the pledge cards. Unlike past years, we won’t be bringing them to the front due to concerns with the virus. So if you fill out a paper one, just fold it and leave it in the few and it will be collected later. And now, Pastor Rick, if you would come, we will give our best to the master.