"Come, Let Us Reason Together"

November 4, 2001

Lectionary Texts: Isaiah 1:1-18, Luke 19:1-10

 

At yesterday's CMBA Annual Meeting, Jim Queen, its Executive Director, reminded us that CMBA's mission is to be a spiritual force for transforming the city. To that end, he called us to be people who are surrendered to Christ. And he was very deliberate about that word. We usually speak of commitment to Christ, he said -- but not of surrender. And there is a difference. If a small group of people surrendered to an evil cause can cause so much havoc to our nation, can you imagine what the churches that are surrendered for God's good purposes can achieve, he asked? To that end, he is calling for Solemn Assemblies to be held during the winter months.

His comments reminded me of a young man in India who left home and traveled in search of a spiritual master. After a long search, he found the master he was searching for, sitting in prayer beside a river. The young man begged the master to teach him. The master rose slowly, deliberately, then suddenly grabbed the younger man and dragged him into the river and put him under the water. Seconds passed, then a minute, then another minute. The young man struggled and kicked, but still the teacher held him down until at last he drew him coughing and gasping out of the water. "While you were under the water, what was it you wanted?" the teacher asked, when he saw that the other was at last able to speak again. "Air," the young man said, still panting. "And how badly did you want it?" "All . . . it was all I wanted in the world. With my whole soul I longed only for air." "Good," said the teacher. "When you long for God in the same way, come back to me and you will become my disciple."

These days as we worked our way through the gospel of Luke, I've been struck by the way Jesus challenges, agitates and calls people to deeper discipleship. I mean, these have been some hard hitting parables and stories. They challenge us about the ways we ingeniously try to cozy up to the values of the world. They challenge us to serious obedience and to discipleship. Jim would say, the stories don't just call us to commitment, they are in fact call us to surrender. By the way, that's what Islam means. It means total surrender to God.

How badly do you want the air? How badly do you want to know God? And what is holding us down? It seems to me, reading Luke, people in Jesus' day had the same sort of problem in surrendering to God as we do. Among the main issues that held people down is their attitude toward money. I mean, how many stories have we heard about this? There's the story about a man would built barns and said to himself, my soul, eat, drink and be merry, there's the story of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus, there's the story of the rich young man whom Jesus loved so much that he invited him to give away his wealth to the poor and come follow him. But this man could not surrender. The money had become too much of an idol for him. Now, I want you to understand this distinction carefully: In these stories the issue is not money itself -- but our attitude about money. How much or how little you have is not the issue. The issue is how much of an idol it has become. Jesus clearly says that its a bigger a problem for those who have money -- it can more easily become an idol for them, whereas people who have less are forced to live in faith and daily depend on God's provision. Did you notice that preachers tend to avoid talking about this subject? We prefer to talk about salvation and not about money. And that's mostly because money can be an idol for us too. So, if we preach about it, we have to preach to ourselves first -- which is something I try hard to do. But you know, whenever Jesus speaks about it, notice this carefully now, our attitude about money is directly related to salvation. The rich fool who built barns was told that night that his soul would be required of him. Lazarus died and went to Abraham's bosom and the rich man to hell. And immediately after the rich young man went away disregarding Jesus' invitation to give his money to the poor, Jesus says, how hard it is for a rich man to enter God's kingdom. So, let's make sure we get this connection that we don't often get: our conversation about money is serious matter -- it has eternal consequences. This is why Jim's distinction is helpful: we are not talking just commitment here, but about surrender. And surrender means one thing -- it means that we acknowledge that the money and everything we have, not just a 10% but all of it, and all of who we are, including our lives and our bodies is God's. Given to us as a trust; to be used as good stewards would.

So, here's this week's installment. Jericho was an important town just north of the Dead Sea, and with a great history. It is the lowest city on earth, 840 feet below sea level, and claims to be the oldest. It's not surprising that it's still a market town. Here, you may remember, Joshua "fit the battle." It was a busy town, with the kind of business any crossroads town would have. Its entrance roads were bordered no doubt with lovely trees, as ancient towns were -- trees like the sycamore that we hear of in today's gospel. The sycamore tree combines features of the fig and the mulberry, and it grows to the height of an elm, with stout branches not far from the ground, that make it easy to climb.

In every town, including this one in those days was the presence of the Roman Empire. A lot of folk collaborated with the occupying Roman Army. Among the officials who served the Roman masters there was a little man named Zacchaeus: an ironic name, for it means "the Pure One." He had made himself rich by extorting money from ordinary, poor people, by bullying them to pay more than what the law required; and decent people would have nothing to do with him. In every country and in every class of society there are those who will collaborate with the Empire, and last Sunday we met such a one, daring to enter the Temple at the same time as a holy man, a Pharisee, to say his prayers.

Today we have this little man who made himself tall by his fraud, and by shinnying up the Sycamore. He has doubtless heard about this radical rabbi who has come to town with his disciples. Zacchaeus is more likely apprehensive than eager, and has no reason to be glad for his coming. Jesus is already unpopular with the Scribes, the Pharisees, the temple officials and his name had reached the ears of the High Priest and King Herod, who has long heard of this celebrity and wants to see him do a miracle. Zacchaeus too is probably fascinated by the celebrity and in that age before television, one had to go to the street to look. So, he goes out but this short man cannot look over the crowd he squirrels himself up the Sycamore tree. He has found safe place. He doesn't want to be seen in the procession, waving a palm perhaps, nor to be a part of the rabble that is thereby roused, because you see, Zacchaeus is a bystander.

Now, isn't that true for many of us? We prefer to stay in our tree, amongst the figs, for it's safer to watch the procession as a spectator than to come down to the dusty street and follow the Rabbi. As he passes by, Jesus sees a stirring in the branches, and amongst the heart-shaped leaves sees Zacchaeus clinging like a ripe fruit, ready for pinching into maturity. "Just looking, thank you," Zachaeus might have nodded to this unexpected attention from below -- because even though Zacchaeus went to a place where Jesus might be found, he did not expect to be found by him. Zacchaeus thinks it is possible to look down safely upon the Jesus' procession down the street, and stay uninvolved. Jesus will soon "walk on by" and he can get back to his ledger and his crooked business practices.

For all you know, Zacchaeus may have been a practicing Jew. Going to the synagogue every sabbath and keeping the rituals and the religious festivals. And for all you know, it would be about people like Zacchaeus that Isaiah spoke about in his first chapter. Isaiah points out how God hates people who bring offerings and even keep solemn assemblies because they are full of iniquity. "When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you:" says God. "I will not listen, because your hands are full of blood." When Zacchaeus went to the synagogue most people would have shunned his company because he was a despised man in his society. So, he is content to just go on doing what he is doing without considering their implications for his life or for others, without caring for God's law or justice. But Jesus ups the ante. He stops under the tree and calls out to him. "Zacchaeus, Hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today." "Come let us reason together" God call out to us through Isaiah "though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." Jesus' yell is not only up Zacchaeus' tree, for he has been barking up our own trees these two thousand years.

In our time, the Church is mostly made up those who have figured out a way to accommodate ourselves to the world. We are Zacchaeus and his friends, compromised believers. Now we know also that Jesus, is a poor man who comes for the poor, to bring good news to the poor and liberty to the captives. "Though he was rich for your sake he became poor," writes Paul in 2 Corinthians. But we wonder, is he here for us too? Can there be liberation for Zacchaeus and the rest of us? Can we be saved who've been a part of the problem, and not part of the solution? Jesus bids us too. "Come out of your tree, for I'm moving in with you today."

But that's not the end of the story. When Jesus moves in with us publicans and sinners, he rudely sits at the head of the table and expects radical change. I mean, not just the paper napkins of cosmetic hospitality, not just appearances, not just commitment but surrender. Zacchaeus received the Lord with joy, we are told--he has apparently been waiting for someone to liberate him from his life of luxury and no friends left. So Jesus says, I'm your friend, Zaccheus. I'm here for supper. And Zacchaeus revolutionizes his life -- that is, he repents, turns 180 degrees around, give up on his idol. "I give half of my money to the poor," he says. That's a nice beginning. If every Christian in the U.S. were to do that, wouldn't it be a stick in the eye to starvation in the world? And to those I have cheated, says Zak, I will do what the scriptures require, I will pay it back four times over. This is not just a giving from the top, this is a redistribution of wealth, and that is a sign of the coming of God's reign. Salvation has come to this house, Jesus says, this man is liberated from his idolatry to money. He is now free to live in the experience of God's abundance. So now, unlike previously where his community shunned him, Jesus restores him to his community -- because Jesus says, he too is a son of Abraham.

Luke does not tell us this story merely as an example of an individual escape, a soul snatched like a branch from the burning. The story is an example of our proper religious practice, of our new lifestyle in the kingdom. It outlines the way our assets are to be assessed and redistributed in God's reign. We are to invite Jesus into our lives, into our homes, to sit at our kitchen tables and look at our tax returns and books of household accounts, with the help of our newly converted taxman Zacchaeus. Explain the income and expenses, Jesus might say. "Come now, let us reason together." Come down out of your tree, you who are bystanders, the savior wants to come indoors and cast a liberative look at your ledger.

When I was a kid, I used to wonder how Zacchaeus would have managed if had to give half his wealth to the poor and four times as much to those whom he has defrauded. Even in my young mind, I could do the math to figure out that that wouldn't leave him with much. But you know the interesting thing is that this is the kind of example Jesus holds up all the time.

You remember how Jesus once observed rich people giving their offerings, proudly making their way to the offering containers clanging in their gifts. And then a widow came and dropped in two copper coins. They were the smallest unit of money, worth less than a penny. And this was all she had. Who gave more? Those who put in $1000, or the woman who put in 1¢? A little child can tell you that. But Jesus says that the widow with her two little coins gave more than anyone else did! In Jesus’ economics, it is what comes from the heart that matters. He said, "All of those rich people have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on." It is not the size of the gift, but the size of one’s heart. It is not the amount of money, but the magnitude of the sacrifice that matters to Jesus. And still, wouldn't we say this woman was crazy. Living in poverty, living on the brink, she gives everything she has to live on.

A pastor heard that a man he had known years was in a nursing home, and he was surprised. The man had always been in great shape physically, was a hale and hearty outdoors type. But then the pastor was told that he went to the nursing home not because of his physical condition, but because of his "distressing mental state." This surprised him even more. This man had always been a thoughtful, intelligent and a very stable person. "Well you see, it’s like this," they said. "His children became distressed about his mental well-being. In his retirement, John volunteered to work a couple of days a week at a church-sponsored soup kitchen. As he served people, he chatted with them and became their friend. John became so involved in that ministry one day he sat down and wrote them out a check for $100,000. Just like that, with no discussion, no forethought. He handed it over to the soup kitchen. That was most of what was left of his life’s savings. Of course, they thought he had gone off the deep end and forced him to go to a nursing home where he would receive supervision."

Jim Queen said, we must surrender, not just commit. Surrender means offer to God everything. Our homes, our possessions, our careers, our hopes and dreams, our families, and ourselves. This is not about how much money we have or how little. It is about an attitude of the heart. I know, our anxieties and worries about our day to day life, and our greed for more and more, keep us from surrendering. So, like Zacchaeus we climb on a tree. We come to church to be awe-struck by the celebrity and see the procession go by. But you know, God's grace for Zacchaeus was that he was found at a place where Jesus could call him down. God's grace for us right now is that we are here in a place where Jesus calls out to us right now. So, he comes to your tree and calls out to you by name. I want to come to your house for supper. How are you going to respond? Would you eagerly open your household accounts to Jesus, or are we going to say, "Jesus, I welcome you to my heart, but please stay away from my pocketbook"? When Zacchaeus made the declaration he did, Jesus said, Salvation has come to this house. And let me tell you -- it is our salvation that's on the line here -- nothing less.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1