30 Jun The Guest of Sinners
You must by no means make Christ to seem petty and trivial to us – as though He could be our Helper only when we want to be rid from imaginary, nominal, and childish sins. No, no! That would not be good for us. Christ must rather be a Savior and Redeemer from real, great, grievous, and damnable transgressions and iniquities — yes, from the very greatest and most shocking sins.
– Martin Luther
I am not rich. I am approximately six feet tall in stature. I do like to climb trees, but I am not a notorious sinner widely despised for extortion. Despite all of this, I do readily identify with the character Zacchaeus because for most of my life I have shared in a lostness like his.
Even before Jesus identifies Zacchaeus as among the lost, the fact can be seen in Luke’s narrative. We know that tax collectors were outcasts in Jesus’ time, reviled by other Jews because of their greed and their collaboration with the oppressive Romans. As a chief tax collector, Zacchaeus has alienated himself from all of his countrymen. Look closely and see: Though he is small of stature, the crowd that gathers to see Jesus refuses to accommodate him and let him through to the front; they are hostile to him. He is unwelcome in society.
As a result, Zacchaeus has an air of desperation about him. He runs ahead and climbs a sycamore tree – behavior that would not be appropriate for a wealthy adult Middle Eastern man in the first century. He abandons whatever is left of his dignity in order to obtain a view of this man Jesus. I believe that we are encountering Zacchaeus at the bottom of a deep and lonely spiral that has left him desperate for even a glimpse of this could-be miracle worker that is passing through town.
The Consequences of Sin
Of course, Zacchaeus’ lostness is only a product of his own sin. Being sinners, one of the ironies we experience is that our sin causes us great harm and anguish; and yet, we only have ourselves to blame for it. Zacchaeus suffers the consequences for his sin, yet he is not a figure deserving of pity because he is entirely responsible for his state of estrangement. His greed and betrayal of others have bought him this.
The story of Zacchaeus greatly resonates with me as I consider my own experience. At times in my life I have felt afflicted with great weakness and deep melancholy. The world has seemed so big, so overwhelming to me. Life has felt unfair and hopelessly confusing. I have often felt utterly lost in the face of it all.
And yet, I am the culprit for most of my suffering. The world is indeed unfair and fraught with evil, but in truth I have lived a life of relative affluence and prosperity. Taking inventory of it all, it’s clear that while some of the pain I have felt has been valid, the vast majority of it has been produced by my own pursuit of control, of truth, of joy, of strength, of contentment, and of justice apart from where they are only to be found —God himself. At times, besetting sins continue to drive me to sorrow and despondency. Like Zacchaeus, my own sin has done me in.
The Scandal of Grace
It’s clear that when we encounter Zacchaeus, he is a man without a hope in the world. He leads a miserable life, oppressed by both the Romans and his fellow Jews. He has walked the path of unrighteousness, and it has swallowed him up. And he is, in fact, completely unworthy of our sympathy.
It should shock us then, that the miracle worker looks up at this wee little man in the sycamore tree and has compassion towards him. If Jesus had continued to walk right on past his tree, Zacchaeus would have rightly been lost to history, another wicked tax collector living the barren life he bought. Instead, the watching Jews are scandalized as Jesus engages Zacchaeus. Hurriedly, Zacchaeus descends and receives Jesus into his house with joy. Luke describes Zacchaeus’repentance and the amends that he promises to make— evidence of the salvation that Jesus declares has come to him.
The Lowly but Lovely Savior
Reaching the bottom of his lifelong descent into lostness, Zacchaeus got this one thing right: he sought the could-be miracle worker passing through town. Even for just a glimpse. His misery drove him past despondency to a hopeful desperation, and for a moment, he forgot his sin and pain and looked for this man. And amazingly, he found himself looking at a man who came for people exactly like him—the Son of Man, who came to seek and save the lost.
I hope whenever we are driven to sorrow and misery, be it because of the circumstances of our lives or our own wretched and persistent sin, that we also will look to this man. He came not for the righteous, but for sinners, and not for the well, but for the sick. When we come to the end of our own paths of unrighteousness, we should not be astonished to find ourselves swallowed up. But, beyond that we may find that we are like Zacchaeus in that we still have a surprising hope in this Man of Sorrows, who walked the path of righteousness yet was swallowed up on our behalf. We only have to be desperate enough to look for him.
-Brian Barbee, Downtown Campus