The Rev. Carol S. Wedell
November 4, 2007

What do you see when you look at someone?  What jumps out at you?  Their face?  Their clothes?  Their race?  Their height? Their weight?  Their age? Their eyes? What assumptions do you make when you see those things?  What are you looking for?  What do others see when they look at you?

Last Sunday, eight youth from our Presbytery challenged us to move past our long held assumptions and stereotypes.  The last person who spoke, an African American young man named Jonathan Lykes asked us what we would think if we were walking down a dark alley and saw an African American youth coming toward us.  Would we be afraid?  Would we assume that his pants would be baggy and his favorite music rap?  Would we assume that he was up to no good?   Let's be honest - we would make some assumptions - and he wouldn't be too far off the mark.

Then Jonathan went on.  "But what if I told you that I was on my way home from youth group?"  We might indeed see him differently, would we not? 

Our gospel lesson, the familiar story of Zacchaeus, is another challenge to see things from a different vantage point.  Jesus enters the town of Jericho, a bustling city and religious center.  Now you would think that Jesus might choose to spend time with the many priests that populated the city.  Not quite!  No, Jesus heads straight through town.

Luke tells us that there was a man named Zacchaeus.  Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector and was rich.  Right away we have some very important information -- information that tells us exactly how Zacchaeus is seen in his community. 

One of you recently told me about having a neighbor who worked for the IRS - who managed to keep that information a secret until after he retired!  This neighbor made some assumptions about how he would be viewed - and he was probably right.  Yet, as much distaste as we may have for the IRS, most of us do not view individual IRS workers as corrupt. They're simply doing their job.

Such was not the case for Zacchaeus.  In Jesus' day, tax collectors were suspect.  To begin with, they were working for the occupying forces - the Romans.  Add to that the way in which taxes were collected.  Essentially, a tax collector could demand any amount of payment - and it would have to be paid.   There was no appeal process!   

The tax collector would send off to Rome the required amount, and keep the rest for himself.  It was assumed that all tax collectors were getting wealthy at the expense of those from whom they collected taxes.  Since Luke tells us that good ole Zach was rich, the local folks would have assumed that he was taking in far more than his fair share. 

Beyond that, we know that the rich don't fair too well in Luke's gospel.  The rich man is told to sell his possessions and give them to the poor, and he walks away sad.  In the gospel of Luke, wealth is a huge stumbling block to following Jesus.  So it would be easy to assume that Jesus won't see much of value in this wealthy and likely cheating tax collector.

But Zacchaeus must have thought there was something of value to see in Jesus.  We don't know why Zacchaeus headed out to try and catch a glimpse of Jesus -- perhaps curiosity, perhaps a deep longing to be seen in a different light, perhaps he felt that something important was missing in his life.  What we do know is that he tried to see Jesus, but the crowd of people wouldn't let him.

Remember that these folks don't like Zacchaeus.  He might have been wealthy, he might have had power over them, but they did not respect him.  Not at all. They viewed this man as despicable.  They think they know who Zacchaeus is - a total scum bag.  There was no way they were going to give him a front row seat in this standing room only crowd.  No way.  It's fine to stand in his way, to ignore his requests to get through, to look right through him, as if he isn't even there.

Luke tells us that the crowd kept Zach from seeing Jesus because "he was short in stature."  We've long assumed that meant that Zacchaeus was short - you know the Bible song, "Zacchaeus was a wee little man..."   But actually, the Greek is a bit unclear about who "he" is - it may be that Jesus was the short one!  (See how our assumptions can color our vision?!)

Whoever the short one is (and believe me, I have nothing against short people - how could I?), Zacchaeus decides the only way to get to see Jesus is to climb a tree.  Sycamore trees are the perfect climbing tree, with lots of sturdy, low branches. It must have been a rather humorous sight to see this important man scurrying up a tree!

As he is sitting up in that tree, Jesus walks by and stuns everyone.  "Hey Zacchaeus - come on down!  I simply have to stay at your house today."   Jesus sees Zacchaeus and extends a remarkable invitation.  Remember that religious people simply didn't eat with sinners or tax collectors.  In fact, if Jesus violated that law, he would be forbidden to testify in court for the rest of his life - his credibility would be destroyed. Further, if two or more people ate a meal together it was the same as a contract of life-long friendship.  You couldn't simply "do lunch"!  There were huge ramifications.

"I see you Zacchaeus.  I see you.  Come on down - I want to spend some time with you."  Responding to the loving eyes of Jesus, Zacchaeus comes out of hiding in the tree, and with pure joy, welcomes Jesus into his home - into his life.

Now the story could just end there.  Jesus has looked at a person that others could see only through their stereotypes and prejudices, and called him into relationship.  Jesus has seen what others have failed to see - a person of value, a person of worth, a person worth saving.

But the story isn't just about Zacchaeus.  It isn't just about those who are on the outside, desperately wanting to fit in, wanting approval, acceptance - love.

It's also about those whose eyes are literally blinded by assumptions and expectations.  The crowd is not happy with this turn of events.  Why has Jesus turned his attention on this low-life?  "He's gone to be the guest of a sinner!"  They couldn't see what Jesus saw - the saint in the sinner.

To be sure, Zacchaeus was a sinner - because all of us are.  Whether his sins were "worse" or "bigger" really doesn't matter.  He didn't always live in the way that God wanted him to live.  Neither did anyone else that was there that day, and neither do we.  We try hard - and we mess up.

But what the crowd couldn't see, what their assumptions and prejudices kept them from seeing, was that Zacchaeus was first and foremost a precious child of God.  They saw only what they expected to see - a wealthy tax collector.  Jesus saw a person in need of God's love. Don't be deceived - a saint isn't a perfect person.  In scripture, a saint is simply someone who follows Jesus.  In choosing to hang out with Jesus, Zacchaeus became a saint.  For isn't that what a saint is - someone who mixes it up with Jesus, just as Zacchaeus did.

Zacchaeus became a saint when he climbed down from his relatively safe spot in that tree and took the risk of letting Jesus into his life.  He gave up his easy observation post, and allowed Jesus to come into his home and begin rearranging things.  Beloved author, C.S. Lewis likens Jesus' coming into our lives to the renovation of a house. At first Christ just goes about fixing leaks and repairing what we knew was broken, but pretty soon it gets out of hand and you realize he's got something entirely different in mind. You think you'll just always be a nice, comfortable, small cottage, but Jesus is constructing a palace, and he intends to live there.

My study this week has led to some interesting thoughts about what happens next.  In most translations, Zacchaeus says, "Look, half of my possession, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much."  As it turns out, once again, the Greek is a bit ambiguous here. Instead of sounding as if this is what Zacchaeus intends to do in the future, it could read, "It has been my custom to give half of my possessions to the poor - and I intend to keep on doing so."

I'll be honest.  I don't know which reading is better, or even preferred.  But once again, notice how our assumptions shift.  What if Zacchaeus really wasn't the crook he was made out to be?  What if the crowds had just gone along with the stereotype that tax collectors were cheats and frauds?  What if he was just a lost soul, waiting to be seen and loved for who he was?

Either way, my friends, Jesus sees past what Zacchaeus does for a living.  He sees past any mistakes he has made in the past - no matter how small or big.  Jesus sees the possibility of a saint in the sinner.  As they get better acquainted, there is little doubt that Zacchaeus will become a different man.  But that is not what prompts Jesus final comment.  Zacchaeus isn't praised because of his generosity.  He's welcomed home simply because Jesus sees him.  "Today (not some time in the future) salvation has come to this house, because Zacchaeus too is a son of Abraham - a child of God.  For that's why I came - to seek out and to save the lost."

Friends, who do we need to see today?  What saints can we see in the sinners we meet?  Can we see the saint within ourselves?

Who do we need to welcome?  What assumptions do we need to set aside?

You know, we could start here - today.  After all, depending on how you look at it, we're either a bunch of sinners or a bunch of saints - or more likely, both!  Can we look each other in the eye and see one another as precious children of God?  As we serve one another communion, as we continue that table fellowship at coffee hour, can we see in each other what Jesus sees - beloved sons and daughters?

For that's what we are - all of us.  Whatever our past, whatever our personal failings, whatever longings we carry, no matter how proud or stubborn or anxious we may be.  Seen through the eyes of Jesus, every one of us deserves to be honored and treated as a human being, deeply loved children of God.

If we look with the eyes of Jesus, we won't be the same.  We will become the kind of community that Jesus envisioned - where all are welcomed, embraced and accepted. 

Can we see the saint in the sinner?