31ST SUNDAY OF THE YEAR--1O/31/10
by Msgr. Eric R. Barr, STL
READING: LK 19:1-10
I. Zaccheus
A. Being short like Zaccheus sometimes has its disadvantages, but being short is nothing compared with having to live in Jericho. I know; I was in Jericho back in the autumn of '78, and let me tell you, Saturday night in Jericho is about as fun as the weekly Fish Fry in Bagley, Wisconsin. Like the song says, it's like being nowhere at all. Of course, it didn't always used to be this way. Two thousand years ago, Jericho was a thriving town of commerce and the only thing dead about it was the Dead Sea just down the road a bit. It was the place to be for business ventures and entertainment in the Jordan valley. And because it was so important, it had many tax collectors, and, of course, the tax collectors were, next to garbage, the rottenest things around. Their boss was the chief tax collector, a short little man named Zaccheus who was very rich. The townfolks thought him the lowest type of scum, a breaker of the Covenant, a renegade to the Jewish race, a traitor to Israel, a leech of Rome.
B. We heard his story in the Gospel today, but now let's read between the lines and see if we can flesh out what happened. For Zaccheus, tired of being pushed around by a hostile and angry crowd of people who hated him, climbed a tree so he could see who the Galilean people were calling "Messiah." The things he heard about Jesus penetrated even the greed in his heart; he wanted to catch a glimpse of this extraordinary person. What do you suppose happened when Jesus got to the tree where Zaccheus was? I used to wonder about whether Jesus ever laughed. Surely this had to be one of those times. And when the laughing Christ looked up at Zaccheus and said, "I want to stay at your house tonight," what did Zaccheus see and hear? Well, I'll tell you what I think he saw and felt. When the laughing eyes of the man from Galilee looked at Zaccheus, the tax collector saw the human face of God. He looked into those eyes of Jesus and felt an offer of mercy and forgiveness.
C. And when the words, "Zaccheus, I'm staying at your house today," were spoken, Zaccheus heard Christ accepting him for who he was . Christ did not ask for repentance but simply accepted the tax collector saying,"Zaccheus, I like you, let's have lunch." To Zaccheus, it did not matter that he was short; he did not care that the crowd hated him. Jesus had given him dignity just by noticing him and together they went walking through the shocked crowd toward Zaccheus' house. But extraordinary as that was, it was not the end of the story. For as the crowd griped and complained about Jesus' action, Zaccheus remembered what else he saw in the eyes of Jesus--not just unconditional love and acceptance, but an offer, an offer of friendship. And to accept that offer, Zaccheus had to choose to change. He had to repent not because Christ demanded it, but because friendship with God is a two-way street: If he wanted to be a friend of God, he had to change his life. And so, Zaccheus stood up and announced he was making restitution, and giving away half of his property to the poor. And Jesus said, "You're saved!" Then they had a great party.
II. The Message
A. Three things happened in this Gospel and if you get these three things, you've got the point of the Gospel and my homily. The first two points are easy to accept; the third one is quite difficult to swallow.
1. FIRST, JESUS ACCEPTS US JUST AS WE ARE. No matter how we have lived, we are loved unconditionally, no strings attached. And that ought to be a comfort to all of us who feel less than perfect, who do things wrong, who sin. Yes, unconditional love is great--it's wonderful to be loved by God no matter how bad we sometimes are, but within this unconditional love is something else, a second thing.
2. SECOND, JESUS OFFERS US FRIENDSHIP WITH GOD. This offer is what Zaccheus saw in the face of Christ. He could accept or reject that offer--God would not have loved him any less. Jesus wants us to be more than just normal, everyday, average folks. He wants us to be what his Father has destined us to be, and that can only happen if we become God's friends. The moment Zaccheus accepted Christ's friendship, he became a Christian, and then the really hard reality set in.
3. THIRD, THE MOMENT WE ACCEPT GOD'S FRIENDSHIP, WE HAVE RESPONSIBILITIES. One who accepts the offer of Christ must accept the terms of Christ's friendship: we must be responsible for living our faith, we must be responsible for others, we must be faithful. God's love is unconditional; God's friendship is not. And this is the killer. Unconditional love, we can accept. The offer of friendship with God sounds great--but this--this responsibility we are shackled with if we accept the offer of God's friendship--well, that's pretty difficult. But it's also the key to being a Christian.
B. We can receive unconditional love all day long--God saying, "I love you, I love you, I love you"--but we are only transformed when like Zaccheus, we accept the offer of friendship and repent, change our lives. Zaccheus didn't become a new person up in that tree. He was just interested, intrigued by Christ. Jesus didn't say, "Zaccheus, you are saved, let's go have a Big Mac." Jesus only pronounced salvation when Zaccheus changed and offered to make restitution, when he allowed the love of God to transform his life. So there you have it--the Gospel message: God loves, God offers friendship, and we respond by changing our lives.
C. So what are you going to do? In the past few months, from this pulpit, you've heard how to examine your conscience each night before going to bed--do you do it? You've heard the basics of how to pray--have you done it? The Church is open every day--have you stopped in for a visit? You've had opportunities each day to speak kindly of someone, to help someone, to heal someone--have you done this? We have had the same opportunity as Zaccheus, but I fear most of us have not taken the same advantage of that opportunity as Zaccheus. We're glad Christ loves us; we're flattered that he wants to be our friend, but we just don't commit. Zaccheus changed his life and will be remembered forever, but is that going to happen to us? I fear we are left up in that sycamore tree waving as Christ passes by and watching him fade into the distance. Or maybe we are bold enough even to accept his invitation to dinner--after all, most of us receive the Eucharist here--but we make no dramatic gesture like Zaccheus; we don't change. We say, "Thanks for supper, let's do it again sometime," and we walk away from Jesus. What a missed opportunity. We are loved, God asks us to be friends, but we don't accept our responsibilities. We let eternal life slip away from us. We make the fatal mistake of assuming that since God loves us no matter what, we will be saved no matter what. Rest assured, if Zaccheus had not repented, Christ would still have loved him, but Zaccheus would not have been saved, and Christ would have wept. We have it within our power to accept salvation; we must accept it or we will not be saved. To each of us, Jesus says, "I want to have dinner in your home today--I want to be your friend, a part of your life." Zaccheus said yes. What is your response going to be?
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