Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 26C, October 30, 2016; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

O God of Mercy, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will. Amen.

Our first reading this morning is from the beginning of the short book of Habakkuk – the prophet. It begins with a title: the oracle, the pronouncement that the prophet saw – although that can also be translated the burden that Habakkuk saw. What Habakkuk saw was indeed a great burden: violence everywhere and a God who seemed not to see the degradation of justice and the utter devastation of well-being, of shalom. Habakkuk has two complaints: 1) God has done nothing to stop the violence so far and 2) it’s about to get worse. In this book, the voice of God is heard, but it’s not particularly good news. Essentially, the response is that the violence is due to the greed of the people and the failure to recognize the Holy One. The violence is understood by Habakkuk as the Holy One’s punishing response, rather than simply a predictable consequence that breaks Love’s heart.

I think that for those of us who work to create new models of relationships that eschew violence and dominating power, the prevalence of violence and the image of God as the divine warrior-king [1] in both the First and Second Testaments must always be preached against. Some argue that violent scripture texts should never be read in church, but it seems to me that if we don’t hear or learn about the bad stuff, if we just skip over those verses, we cede those passages of scriptures to others and we lose the sense of urgency of offering alternatives to violence, which are also based in the Holy Scripture of the First Testament and the Second Testament. We must assert again and again that ancient views of a violent warrior-king God do not have the last word. The last word must be about the fidelity and kindness, compassion and tenderness of the Holy One, in whom love and knowledge cannot be distinguished. The biblical idea of mutual affection, mutual regard between God and the people of God, which abounds in both the Hebrew Bible and the Christian Testament, must be asserted again and again.

Both Habakkuk and the second letter to the Thessalonians urge faith and patience in the midst of uncertainty and strife. Faith, here, is not about intellectual assent to implausible ideas presented as facts. Rather, faith is fidelity to the Spirit of the Divine, the Spirit of Love, at work in the world, even when it’s difficult or even impossible to discern. It’s heart work. Faith is fidelity to the commitment to treat every human being with dignity, even and especially when they don’t necessarily behave in a manner worthy of respect. This is the essential work we are implored to do! If this is what is required (and it is), then who can be saved? That is the question that the Gospel of Luke is answering for us this morning in the story of Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus.

The writer of the Gospel of Luke is such a good story-teller. Luke tells stories about Jesus that one could easily stage. And today’s story is no exception. I’m going to miss the stories from the Gospel of Luke when we move to lectionary year A in a few weeks at the beginning of Advent. Can’t you just see the crowd, and little Zacchaeus climbing a tree to get a better view? How many of you learned the Sunday School song about the wee-little man Zacchaeus when you were wee-little children?  Songs and stories often communicate truth better than prose. Our cantata today, originally written on the text of the unfaithful steward [2] is equally apt for the story of Zacchaeus.

The story goes that Jesus was passing through Jericho. According to historians and archaeologists, Jericho in Jesus’ time was an agricultural/commercial center, a customs center, a garden city with royal estates of Herod and probably functioned as a winter resort for Jerusalem’s elite. Think Palm Beach. So a chief tax collector would have been a busy man in Jericho. And his work must have paid off – he was a wealthy man. But tax collecting was notoriously dirty business. Tax collectors were often named in lists of bad guys – like robbers and murderers. They took advantage of people who were vulnerable – a clear violation of the Torah. Tax collectors appear in ancient lists of jobs that no good Jew could hold.

One of the great things about this story is that the name Zacchaeus means “clean” or “pure” or “righteous.” It’s a nice touch – kind of funny. It’s like a story of a prostitute whose name was Chastity. Or a mafia hit-man whose name is Christian. Someone named Clean was doing dirty work and getting filthy rich. And he wasn’t just doing his own dirty work, he was supervising others’ dirty work. He was the boss of dirty work. Zacchaeus was the chief dirty-worker in Jericho.

Zacchaeus must have heard of Jesus. Jesus’ reputation had preceded him. Zacchaeus wanted to see who Jesus was but he couldn’t see because he was too short (or because Jesus was too short – it’s ambiguous), so Zacchaeus climbed a tree. It makes sense. Get up higher and get a better view, a better perspective. And because Luke is such a great storyteller, he has Zacchaeus climb a sycamore-fig tree that bore an inferior kind of fruit, consumed by poor people. Also, what Zacchaeus probably didn’t think about was that as soon as he could see Jesus better, Jesus would also be able to see him better! And Jesus did see him. And not only did Jesus look up and see him, Jesus said, “Zacchaeus, come down right now. I must stay at your house today.” Zacchaeus gladly did as he was told. The Greek word is “rejoicing.” He must have been wild with excitement. But even through the excitement, I imagine he noticed the others grumbling about Jesus being the guest of a sinner. The dramatic tension of this story has reached its peak.

Zacchaeus stood up and said, “Look, Lord! Right here, right now, I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount!” Wow. That’s the biblical mandate. According to the Torah, you’re not just required to repay the amount stolen. If you steal something, you owe four times whatever you stole as restorative justice. Right there, right then, Zacchaeus came clean, he became Mr. Clean! It’s an amazing thing – and even Jesus was amazed because he responded that salvation – deliverance – recovery — had come to Zacchaeus’ household (which is also the word for economy) because Zacchaeus had become again who and Whose he was meant to be. Zacchaeus was lost and now was found. He had come clean in his offer to make up for what he had done and left undone. He repented of the evil he had done and the evil done on his behalf, to use the words of our confession of sin. And since Jesus’ mission was to seek out and save the lost, he must have thought to himself, “I found one!”

You might have guessed where I’m headed next – those of you who have been around awhile. Here it is. I’m pretty sure that each of us has a part somewhere in us like Zacchaeus. Some part that wants to see who this guy Jesus is. Some part that is willing to do something kind of foolish like climb a tree or get out of bed to come to church on a Sunday morning to get a better look. And I’m pretty sure that each of us has a part – or parts of ourselves that are sullied – by chance, by choice – by bad luck or bad decisions — usually a combination. What would it be like to imagine that Jesus wants to come to that part today, to see that part today? Not the parts that are already clean and shiny and humming along. Jesus wants to come to the part of you (of us), to see the part that we are not so proud of – that make the other parts of us grumble.  What is that part of you that make the other parts of you grumble?

What part of you might just be moved to come clean? I’m pretty sure that the Holy One longs for all of us to come clean. Whatever it is, put it down, let it go, give it away, pay it back (four times), get it off you, stop – whatever it is – whatever dirt keeps you from knowing what a beloved child of God you are and whatever it is that keeps others from seeing what a beloved child of God you are and acting that way; whatever dirt keeps you from knowing what a beloved child of God you are and acting that way.

The final chorale of today’s cantata comes after pleas for mercy in the two preceding tenor parts. The chorale is about returning to Jesus, returning to Love, and acknowledging that Love’s grace and mercy is greater than any sin. So receive mercy. Have mercy. Come clean. Give Jesus a chance to say, “I found another one!” Each of you has a name. Although it may be spelled differently, it translates in God’s language to Beloved. Every one of you is called Beloved by God. Live into it. Become who and Whose you are.

1 Judith E. Sanderson, “Habakkuk,” in The Women’s Bible Commentary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992), pp. 222-224.

2 BWV 55