Bird's Eye View

Luke 19:1-10

July 25, 2021 • Mount Pleasant UMC

All right, everyone together if you know 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 going to your house today! For I’m going to your house today.”

How many of you grew up singing that song in Sunday School or Vacation Bible School? I still remember singing that in the basement of the Rossville United Methodist Church and doing all the motions along with it. I thought we’d start with that this morning because this is, after all, VBS week, and we’re going to be doing a lot of songs with motions in this place every evening this week. I’ve been watching the videos to get ready, just like Ginger told us to, and I’m a little concerned about all the dance movements. Music time is a lot more complicated than it used to be!

This morning, we’re continuing this series of sermons we started a couple of weeks ago, exploring the themes that are part of this week’s VBS, “Press Play.” The stories we’ve been looking at revolve around finding confidence, but not just the kind of worldly confidence that convinces us we can do whatever we think we can. This is not self-help confidence; we’re focusing on the kind of confidence God gives when he fills and transforms our lives. It’s the kind of confidence that comes when we know we are known by the God of the universe. It’s the kind of confidence we get when we realize that we belong to that God. And it’s the kind of confidence that comes when we experience his power by being forgiven and having our lives changed. That’s the kind of confidence we find in the story of that “wee little man” named Zacchaeus.

Now, because we have sung his story in Sunday School or heard lessons about his life at VBS, it’s easy to think we know his story. But to fully understand where he ends up, we’ve got to understand where he begins. Zacchaeus wasn’t just a “wee little man,” though Luke says he was “short” (19:3). But he was not just short in stature; he was also short in character. Zacchaeus was a “genuinely bad man” (Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 212). He wasn’t someone you kind of disliked; Zacchaeus was hated by pretty much everyone in town. He was a sell-out, and by that I mean he sold out his own people for the sake of his own success. His W-2 said “Roman Empire” in the “Employer” box, because Zacchaeus collected the Roman tax from the Jewish people. And he was good at it, so good in fact that he became a “chief tax collector” (19:2). One author puts it this way: “Of the hated group of tax collectors, he is a cut above” (Card 211). Tax collection in the Roman world wasn’t a matter of filling out your 1040 and sending it in by April 15. It was more of a pyramid scheme. Zacchaeus would have started out as a regular old tax collector, sitting along the road at his tax booth or maybe in a shop in town, accepting the payments the people brought in. Rome demanded a certain amount, but the Empire also said Zacchaeus could collect as much above that as he liked. Rome didn’t care, as long as the Empire got its share. As the work increased, Zacchaeus would have hired other men to do the actual collecting, and he would become the overseer. It’s hard to say how many layers of the pyramid bureaucracy existed by the time Jesus comes to town. With every layer, Zacchaeus’ cut increased. He paid Rome, and they all paid him. Zacchaeus has gotten wealthy by basically extorting his fellow Jews. “He is a slimy, good-for-nothing thief. And he knows he is” (Card 212; cf. Bock, Luke [IVPNTC], pgs. 306-307).

So let’s put ourselves in the sandals of the inhabitants of Jericho for a moment. Think of the worst person living today. Don’t call out any names, please, and for heaven’s sake, don’t point at anyone! Just think of someone who might be a modern-day Zacchaeus in your life. Someone who isn’t well-liked but really doesn’t care. They have their money to comfort them. They’ve gotten wealthy by basically stealing money from those who don’t have it to lose. They’ve not done anything illegal, but they’ve done lots of unethical things. Now, think about about how you’d feel if you knew that that person, that bad person, would be remembered by name in two thousand years while your name, your good name, is forgotten. Think about that: we don’t know the names of any of the inhabitants of Jericho who were in the crowd that day. And every one of them would have been horrified to think that we would still today, two thousand years later, know the name of the bad, bad, bad man Zacchaeus (cf. Wright, Luke for Everyone, pg. 222). He was the kind of man people loved to hate, the kind of man for whom there is not a strong enough swear word. Got the picture? That’s what’s behind our sweet, innocent Sunday School song. Kind of makes you think twice about teaching it to children, huh?

So Jesus comes to Jericho, Zacchaeus’ town. Or, actually, through Jericho. Luke says he was only “passing through” (19:1); he is on his way to Jerusalem. Jericho is sort of the “last stop” on the way out of the desert as you head up toward Jerusalem. But Jesus by this time is pretty famous, and so when word comes that he is “passing through,” a crowd gathers. Everyone wants to see the celebrity, maybe shake his hand or hear him teach something. Today it would be a crowd with their smartphones out, all videoing Jesus and posting it to YouTube, right? We’d be trying to get a selfie with Jesus—#SonOfGod. The people in ancient times were no different—well, they didn’t have the smartphones or YouTube or selfies, but they were no less enamored with celebrities, especially religious celebrities. (It was a thing back then!) Even Zacchaeus, who was hated and not welcome in the local synagogue, still wanted to see Jesus. I mean, after all, it wasn’t every day that a celebrity came to Jericho! But when he came out of his tax office, he found the street filled with people. Lots and lots of people. They all had the same idea he had. Lots and lots of people wanted at least a glimpse of Jesus. Zacchaeus was already at the back of the crowd and, as Luke tells us, “because he was short he could not see over the crowd” (19:3). He knew no one liked him enough to let him through to the front, so if he was going to see Jesus, he had to come up with another idea.

The mathematician in him did some calculations. He saw where Jesus was and figured out the likely route Jesus would take through town, so he headed that way. Maybe there was some way he could get ahead of the crowd. And that’s when he saw the sycamore-fig tree. This is a picture of one such tree in Jericho; it is highly doubtful that this is the actual tree Zacchaeus climbed, but it is marked off in Jericho today as a way to remember this event, this famous climbing. As you can see, Israeli sycamore-fig trees are sort of like a short oak tree. They generally have a squatty trunk and wide branches (cf. Bock 306), easy for a short guy like Zacchaeus to pull himself up into and perch on. Up in the tree, somewhat hidden from the crowds, he would have had a bird’s-eye view of the whole parade. He might not be able to touch Jesus, or even hear what he has to say all that well, but at least he could catch a glimpse of him. He could see the whole thing from up in the tree.

Of course, that is what happens. He sees Jesus—maybe just before Jesus sees him. I read this story and sometimes think, “If you think you can hide from Jesus, just try it. He’ll find you, he’ll see you, and he’ll call you out.” That’s what Jesus does to Zacchaeus. Can you imagine what Zacchaeus was thinking as Jesus got nearer and nearer, and just as he expected him to keep on walking right by the tree, Jesus stops, turns toward the tree, and looks right at Zacchaeus. And then, more than that, he calls Zacchaeus by name. The short little tax collector has got to be wondering, “Who told him my name? And how did he know I was up here?” But those questions would have to be asked (and maybe answered) later, because Jesus just announced to everyone that he was coming “to stay” at Zacchaeus’ house. That meant a meal, and maybe clean linens—for thirteen men, if it was just the men disciples who were with Jesus. It might have been more than thirteen. Imagine how much your spouse would love it if you came home and said, “There are thirteen more people behind me—and they’re staying the night!” Zacchaeus needed to get home and get his servants busy. There were things to do, to prepare. So Luke says he comes down from the tree. Now, I don’t know about you, but I can’t ever remember a time when I’ve gotten out of a tree gracefully. It’s always sort of this half-jump, half-fall, mostly hoping you land somewhat on your feet sort of thing. And Zacchaeus has to do that in front of this famous teacher, not to mention all of the people who already think he’s a terrible person. But something is happening in Zacchaeus that means he doesn’t really care any more how he looks. There is something in Jesus’ invitation that begins a change in Zacchaeus—an acceptance that results in a change that culminates during dinner at the house (cf. Bock 306).

Now, of course, we always picture this taking place at dinner, though Luke doesn’t mention anything about a meal. What he does tell us is that “all the people” in Jericho complained about the company Jesus was keeping (19:7). “All the people” knew Zacchaeus was a “sinner.” A bad, bad person. Why would a holy person, a religious teacher, a Jewish celebrity be hanging out with Zacchaeus and his band of “bad people” (cf. Wright 223)? Regardless, Jesus doesn’t have to ask their permission before he goes to Zacchaeus’ house. Now, Luke does not tell us what they talked about in the house, or if they talked about anything at all. Maybe just being in Jesus’ presence was enough to let Zacchaeus know two things: he could be forgiven and his life could change. However it happens, Luke only tells us the result of the time they spent together. Zacchaeus is not the same person at the end of this story that he was at the beginning. He stands up and publicly proclaims the difference. The money that has defined him? He’s going to give a whole lot of that away. He’s going to try to make things right. And the people are strangely silent, quick to pass judgment earlier, but not saying anything now that Jesus has come into Zacchaeus’ life.

Zacchaeus spells out two very specific things he is going to do in response to Jesus. First of all, he is going to give half of what he owns away to the poor. Now, the cynic in me says, “Well, let’s suppose he has a million dollars. He’ll still have half a million after he’s done. I think I could live on that.” You may think he’s not really giving away all that much, relative to what he has, but regardless of the amount, he will be living in seriously reduced circumstances (Wright 223). And he goes beyond that. He also promises that to anyone he has cheated (and I wonder if there was a laugh at this point, because everyone there felt he had cheated them)—to anyone he has cheated, he will pay back four times the amount. That’s extravagant, to say the least. Normally, restitution meant adding 20% to the payback, or in some extreme circumstances, 40%. But adding 400%? Zacchaeus may not be giving his whole fortune away, but he’s going to come close (cf. Bock 307-308; Card 212)!

Which leads some to ask: is this the response Jesus requires? I mean, just in the last chapter is the story of the man we call “the rich young ruler,” the man who basically asked Jesus how to be saved, and Jesus told him, “Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven” (Luke 18:22). That young man, we’re told, went away sad because he couldn’t do what Jesus asked him to do (cf. Wright 222). Zacchaeus, apparently, can, but is this the requirement to get into the kingdom? First of all, we don’t know for sure that Jesus asked him to do this or if this is just a spontaneous response of Zacchaeus’ heart. My guess is the latter. But when you take a broader view of the Gospels, what seems to be happening every time someone comes to Jesus is that Jesus asks them to seriously consider what it is that keeps them from following him, and to deal with that. To a man who asked to wait until his father had died, Jesus said, “Let the dead bury their own dead” (9:60). To another one who wanted time with his family before he followed Jesus, the Savior said, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God” (9:62). We know there were people who began following Jesus and later turned back because it was too hard (cf. John 6:60-66). Jesus asks us to take a good, long look at our lives and consider what stands in the way of our following him. He asks us to give up those things that get in the way; we can’t follow him and drag along our “stuff.” For Zacchaeus, it was his wealth, his money, his lifestyle. If he was going to follow Jesus, he needed a new way of life. And when Zacchaeus gives it up, Jesus is able to say, “Today salvation has come to this house” (19:9).

Our bottom line today is really in two parts because at VBS this week, they’re going to spend two nights on the story of Zacchaeus. So here’s the way I’d put these two together: I can have confidence because I am forgiven; because I am forgiven, I can change. Let’s take these one at a time, and talk about how Zacchaeus experienced forgiveness. We want a dramatic scene, don’t we, of him breaking down and realizing all the bad things he has done? Maybe we’ll get that when The Chosen gets around to telling this story, but in the text as we have it, what happens to Zacchaeus instead is as simple as an invitation. Jesus invites him—well, actually, Jesus invites himself to come and stay at Zacchaeus’ house, but it’s sort of understood that Zacchaeus is being invited into Jesus’ life, into following Jesus, and that’s something that begins when we experience forgiveness. It’s a simple invitation that opens the door for all that comes after.

I love reading this story at the beginning of this week, because I believe that for some kids, a simple invitation to VBS is going to change their world. Because of the hard work of Ginger and Melissa and their team of volunteers, I believe there will be some kids who could meet Jesus for the first time this week. But some of them may still be waiting on an invitation from you. They are waiting on you to invite them to come and see, to get out of the tree where they are watching and uninvolved and get down into the street where Jesus is passing by. And once they come, when they come, we have to be bold enough to invite them to follow Jesus, unapologetically. It’s said that the average mainline Christian invites someone to church once every 37 years; inviting someone to follow Jesus happens even less frequently. Let’s not let this opportunity pass by this week. Had someone not invited me during VBS, I might not be your pastor today. I know I tell this story nearly every year at this time, but I want you to know why VBS is so important, and why it’s so important to me. I grew up in church, from a solid Christian family. We were in church every time the doors were open, pretty much. But it wasn’t until that week during VBS when the teacher directly invited our class of boys to follow Jesus that something clicked. I gave my life to Jesus as the result of an invitation during VBS. I experienced forgiveness and new life because someone invited me to do so. So did Zacchaeus. It begins with an invitation. Maybe someone is waiting on you to say, “Zacchaeus, you come down, for I’m going to your house today.”

Now, like I said, people get bothered that there’s no scene of Zacchaeus specifically repenting of his sin, saying he’s sorry for all he’s done, or praying the sinner’s prayer. Because that’s what we expect people to do, but do you know what? You don’t get that in the Bible. In Scripture, forgiveness is not by and large evidenced by a shedding of tears or by experiencing warm, fuzzy feelings. No, the proof of forgiveness in the Bible is a changed life. You know as well as I do that someone can pray a prayer and shed a few tears, say they are committed to Jesus and yet live like the devil the next day. The witness that someone has truly experienced forgiveness is a changed life—they begin to live the way Jesus wants them and calls them to live (cf. Wright 223). And that’s exactly what we find in the life of Zacchaeus. He is forgiven and he is changed.

The evidence of his change is seen in his public proclamation, and in the donations and paybacks that undoubtedly followed. But, again, it’s not about the money and it’s not about whatever amount of money this life change amounted to. It’s about a reordering of priorities. In the moment that Zacchaeus truly experiences the forgiveness found in Jesus, the other things don’t matter. His life is reordered. What few friends he might have had—most likely other tax collectors, maybe not even friends but “employees”—they probably couldn’t make sense of what had happened to Zacchaeus, and they definitely couldn’t understand why he is seriously downsizing his fortune. Many of them had probably hoped to be him one day, to have his job and a fortune like he had. Why would he give it all away? The simple answer: because it didn’t matter anymore. You see, we often get this wrong, but the world’s priorities are not the same as the Christian’s priorities. When we seek to look just like the world in what we have, in what we do, in how we live, how will anyone know that our lives have been changed? I’ve never forgotten Bishop Bevel Jones (who went to be with Jesus just a few years ago) when he spoke at Asbury while I was a student there. I couldn’t tell you his whole sermon, but I do remember the question he asked us: “If you were accused of being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” What would you say to that? Forgiveness is proven and evidenced by a changed life.

Last Sunday afternoon, Pastor Rick and I had the privilege to participate in several baptisms out at Helton Pond (and I want to thank Max and Kathy Helton for allowing us to use the space for the last several years). For every person in that line, being baptized is a big deal. It’s not just a ritual or just a little bit of water. Baptism is a radical act that identifies you publicly with Jesus. Whatever age you are baptized at, in that act, Jesus claims you as his own. A lot of times we think baptism is something we do, but that’s looking at it backwards. Baptism is something that is done to us. It is a symbol of something God is doing in us, and as I told the folks who gathered there last Sunday, if you don’t know Jesus, baptism doesn’t really “do” anything for you. You just get wet. What happened in that pond last Sunday is a lot like what Zacchaeus did at this dinner party: it’s a public profession that from this moment on, Jesus is our main priority. Everything else is secondary. “Whatever I have now, Lord, I give to you to use however you want to.” Because forgiveness is proven and evidenced by a changed life.

I can have confidence because I am forgiven; because I am forgiven, I can change. So, two questions for you today. The first, and it’s first because it’s most important, is this: have you experienced Jesus’ forgiveness for yourself? Have you responded to his invitation to get down out of the tree, stop simply watching what is going on from a bird’s eye view, and invite him into your home? He is inviting you this morning, and it’s as simple as telling Jesus, “I want you to come into my life. I want to be forgiven and I want to follow you.” He will forgive you when you ask and you can have confidence when you are forgiven. So—have you responded to his invitation? And, secondly, what is the evidence? What does Jesus want to change in your life? What are the obstacles that stand in the way of your fully following him? What excuses do you make? “Well, Lord, when I do this, or when I do that, or when this task is done…” Jesus says, “Follow me.” “But, Lord, I’ll have to change this or that. I’ll have to live differently.” Jesus says, “Follow me.” You take the first step, walk beyond the obstacles, put them aside, and he will help you the rest of the way. The evidence of forgiveness is a changed life.

So VBS begins tomorrow evening. It’s time to “Press Play” on the music of God’s love, mercy, grace and forgiveness, and I hope that, even if you’re not directly a part of the event here, you’ll be praying that the kids (and adults) who come will experience the forgiveness and change that only Jesus can bring. Because that’s why we do it. That’s why we give five nights this week over to fun, games, crafts and music. It’s so that all the Zacchaeuses in the community have a chance to climb down out of the tree and meet Jesus face to face. That’s why we do anything here at this church. It’s because of him and the change he will bring. So we’re going to pray, and as we pray I invite you to ask Jesus: what change do you want to make in me today? Let’s pray.