Pen 24 C / Reformation – The Unexpected God
Dear Partner in Preaching,
Many of you may be preaching this Sunday as Reformation Sunday. Others will preach it as the 24th Sunday after Pentecost. Whichever “day” you may be observing, I’d like to suggest there is a common theme worth holding up, and that is that the God we encounter in Jesus is not the God we expect – and that’s a good thing!
I’ll start with the Zacchaeus story appointed for Pentecost 24. I have long felt that we misinterpret this story as a repentance story. That is, we read the events as follows: Jesus seeks out Zacchaeus, a notorious chief tax collector; Zacchaeus, overwhelmed by the presence of Jesus, repents of his sin and promises he will make amends; acknowledging Zacchaeus’ repentance, Jesus declares that salvation has come to this house.
But there’s one small problem with this interpretation. Neither Jesus nor Zacchaeus says anything about sin or repentance. Only the crowd does. When Jesus decides to go to Zacchaeus’ house, they grumble, upset by Jesus’ choice of companion (not a new theme in Luke!), and call Zacchaeus a sinner. Which prompts Zacchaeus protest. Indeed, it’s important to note that Zacchaeus doesn’t actually make a promise to give half his possessions to the poor or repay anyone he has defrauded in the future. He says he is already doing that, a claim he probably makes in light of the crowd accusing him of being a sinner. The verb tense in Greek is present, you see, not future. So it’s not “I will give” and “I will pay back” but rather “I give half my money to the poor” and “I repay.” As in now, already, this is my current practice.
The key to this story is not sin and forgiveness but sight. Zacchaeus wants to see Jesus. Because he is short, he can’t see him, so he climbs a tree to be able to. When Jesus come his way, Jesus looks up and sees him and invites himself to Zacchaeus’ house. Why? Because he has seen Zacchaeus. Really seen him, when so many in the crowd despise and would ignore him.
Of all the evangelists, Luke is the one most sensitive to issues of money. Unfortunately, he doesn’t offer us neat theological categories. In the first century it was fairly common to assume that wealth was inherently good and a sign of God’s blessing, but Jesus undermines that notion when he said that it’s very difficult for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God (Lk 18:25). In our time, it’s easy – especially for church leaders to act (if not say) as if wealth is bad (except, of course, when given to the Church!). Yet in this story Jesus declares that Zacchaeus, this wealthy chief tax collector despised by his neighbors, is also a child of Abraham, beloved of God, and a recipient of God’s salvation. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus doesn’t care so much about wealth as about what we do with our wealth, and Zacchaeus does good things.
Even more, however, Jesus cares about those who are on the edge. Throughout this Gospel, Jesus encounters those who society has declared unfit and wants to ignore and he sees them, recognizes them, seeks them out, spends time with them, and in all these ways honors and blesses them.
And this is not what those around Jesus expect him to do. Indeed, it is not what any self-respecting messiah should do. God, after all, has standards, and if God isn’t going to stick to those standards and punish sinners and reward the righteous, then what can we count on? I mean, how can God just forgive sin? Or, and to follow the traditional interpretation of this passage, shouldn’t God’s forgiveness at least be preceded by genuine repentance? If God is holy and just, after all, then sin should be punished, right? Or at least repented? Absent that, we might take advantage of God and make a mockery of God’s justice.
Yet the God we encounter in Jesus doesn’t care about our sense of justice or fairness or any of the other ways we seek to order our world. The only thing this God cares about is seeing – and seeking out – the lost and bringing them home again. God’s love routines trumps justice and God’s compassion overrides all of our sense of fairness.
Which can be rather upsetting – whether to the crowds of Zacchaeus’ day or to us. Until, that is, we are the ones who are down and out, made to feel invisible, whether because of our actions or those of others, whether because of illness or loss, whether because of our gender or race or age or sexuality or whatever. Whenever we feel on the outside, abandoned, invisible…that’s when we need a God who sees us, seeks after us, and promises to bring us home.
At the heart of the Luther’s Reformation was the recognition that he had been worshiping the wrong God. He was taught to see and fear a God of holiness and justice, a God who expected righteousness and punished those who could not meet that standard. Jesus, from this point of view, was little more than a whipping boy, the one who stood in and took the beating we deserved. Luther, agonizing over God’s righteousness, finally realized that righteousness isn’t the standard God sets for us, but rather is the gift God gave to us. Righteousness isn’t a requirement but a promise. The God Luther expected was all about justice; the God he met in Jesus was all about love. Jesus, it turns out, didn’t die to make God forgiving but died to show us how forgiving God already is. Little wonder that Luther would later describe meeting this unexpected God by saying it was like having the gates of heaven opened to him.
A pastor recently shared with me that when one member of her youth group asked her friends what they imagined Jesus thought about them, the overwhelming answer was disappointment. That is, they assumed Jesus and God were disappointed with them. Why? Because we still define God in terms of righteousness, sin, punishment and the like. So this week, Dear Partner, whether you are preaching on the gospel readings from Luke or John, observing Pentecost 23 or Reformation, let’s open the heavens for our people. Let’s surprise them – just as Luther and the crowd gathered around Zachaeus was surprised – by God’s unexpected salvation and grace. It’s a message that is still needed to be heard and so easy to share: God sees us, God accepts us, God loves us, and God brings us home. No exceptions!
Thanks be to this God for this good news…and for all who share it. Blessings on your proclamation.
Yours in Christ,
David
PS: Many versions of the Bible translate Zacchaeus’ statement as referring to future action, even though they are clearly present tense verbs in the Greek. To justify that decision, they argue that this is an instance of the “future-present tense” in Greek. Curiously, there is no other instance in biblical or classical Greek literature of a “future-present tense,” which means that translators actually made up a grammatical category to justify their poor translations. Why? Because we really, really want God to conform to our expectations. Once again, we don’t get the God we expect, but rather the one we need. Thanks be to God!
PPS: For those preaching Reformation Sunday, there is no reason you could not substitute this Gospel for the appointed, and somewhat ponderous, John 8. Indeed, that would be an example of evangelical freedom. 🙂
David,
In a previous writing (re-posted this week at Working Preacher) you wrote:”Scholars, as well as translators, are divided, so we will have to explore the narrative evidence and interpretive outcomes before deciding.” and gave some time to both options before settling into your preference.
This week you come down more unilaterally on present tense.
As I read it, either way there is indisputably repentance — as in turning or change of life (much more important than mouthing the words) — and as many have noticed, Jesus often shows forgiveness first with repentance following and repentance is often secondary to grace (as in Luke 15.
But — and i think this is hugely important in Luke-Acts — turning from worship of wealth is essential. (from Mary’s Magnificat and Jesus inaugural sermon, into sermon on the plain, barns expansion etc, to the prodigal steward in luke 16 (who could be a stand in for Zack, sounds like) to Lazarus and the rich man to the rich man who goes away you reference, all seems to turn with Zack story to a way forward… which then continues in vol 2 with the common purse in Acts 2-4 and description of Cornelius’ prayers and alms rising to God in harmony.
In short, I think the story is all about Zack’s repentance and whether it’s past tense, present tense or most likely both/and, matters much less than getting it that money is first century, 21st century, probably at least tied for most popular idol and the one that most needs repenting of…
Grace first and last always to be sure. But repentance in there somewhere also too… More so for those to whom much has been given.
thanks for all your ministries, which always get me thinking.
I guess I worry/wonder if repentance needs to be our only, or even primary, category for our response to the Gospel. It’s not mentioned anywhere in this story, nor is his sin – accept by the crowd that despises him. So what other responses to the Gospel might we imagine – inclusion, new identity, a breadth of compassion? It seems like relationship with God – if it really is a relationship we’re talking about – should have many dimensions to explore, yet we often narrow them to sin, repentance, amending one’s ways, and other moral categories. In the significant relationships I have, there are times where sin, repentance, and forgiveness are significant categories, but there are others where other things are also important. Yet we seem to read most encounters with Jesus – including this one – along these lines, even though in Luke’s gospel these aren’t always quite as central categories as in other places in Scripture. -Just some more thoughts while I procrastinate writing a sermon! 🙂
I think scripture gets narrowed to sin, repentance, etc. b/c ultimately the gospel speaks of good news, or salvation.
Where I get stuck (and I can’t really tell from the Greek text, either) is whether Zacchaeus already knows that it’s Jesus of Nazareth whom the crowds are surrounding (and whose reputation has likely preceded him), or is he simply curious about who this popular, unseen person might be: “…he was trying to see WHO Jesus was” (NRSV). And might that make a difference?
Great question. “What’s all the fuss about,” he may have been wondering. Only to find out that this One would call him child of Abraham.
Could Zacchaeus be living out what John the Baptist described as someone living out their baptismal call back in chapter 3? “Even the tax collectors came to be baptized and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” (Lk3:12-13) Jesus sees Zacchaeus, loves him, and loves how he is able to live out God’s justice in a system easily corruptable.
Nice connection!
Thanks, Andy – really appreciate that connection!
Your most welcomed, Cynthia. That connection was helpful to me mostly out of a sense that Zacchaeus may not have come to those atypical actions out of the blue– but there might have been a wider context that led him.
As always, I really appreciate your insights! Your thoughts have helped me get to what feels like the heart of the story (at least this time around): regardless of whether Zaccheus was already giving, or plans to after meeting Jesus (or even if he never plans to at all), salvation still comes to his house, because Jesus offers salvation to ALL.
As Andy notes, we should follow the story line through the characters — and after John B, they are back next in luke 5, where Jesus calls one, Levi, whose name in passing recalls both the violent bro Levi of Genesis and the Levites of Torah… now fallen into helping Rome enslave Israel… calling him out, he folllows as Elisha follows Elijah, as the fishermen left all
And questioned by Pharisees Jesus says i have come to call not the righteous (they get pretty hard to find even before Romans 1-4) but sinners (love em all for sure, just as i am, but calls them not to go forth just as we weres but rather) into repentance…
I dont think Luke hammers the theme of repentance by name as much as Matthew, but he expects it of all just as much. At least thats how i hear it.
appreciating all the comments.
Ooh, I really like where Andy is going with this. Who are you, Andy? The web link for your name doesn’t seem connected.
Hi Elizabeth. I’m a chaplain at a care facitily in WA. I belong to a good text study group though– and that’s where the credit shuold go. Peace!
Thanks so much. You’ll get an, “I came across an interesting thought,” credit in today’s sermon.
apologies for perhaps over-posting
I am still hung up on the contrast between the rich man in Luke 18 and this rich man, Zack… which could hardly be more starkly drawn?
My two favorite Luke commentaries, R Tannehill and J Green, hear it a bit differently. Green, with DJL, hearing Zack as presently practicing righteousness and not needing to give all he has because he is present tense sharing appropriately in full… Tannehill (Narrative Unity, Luke,abingdon) hears Zack’s giving half as half plus repaying all he has stolen four fold as Exodus calls for with theft, as leaving him no longer rich…
Matthew and Mark also have the rich man of Lk 18. Only Luke has Zack, and i think he functions much like Matthew 25 string of parables in Matthew…
As Joel Green notes, the last word with the rich man in Luke 18 is ‘what is not possible with people is possible (only) with God’ and
the last word in Luke 19, Zack, is ‘today salvation has come to this house, he too is a child of Abe…’
The only difference i can see in the two rich men is behaviorally linked — and i think they are both looking to see Jesus but only one sees accurately enough to induce changes in behavior (and there must have been behavior that needs changing or why would Jesus say today salvation, and i have come to seek and save the lost?
As a methodist, weak on reformation theology, but not wanting to go over great niagaran pelagian falls, simply noting
that changed behavior is an essential part (not necessarily THE essential part) of the gospel, and
Zack’s changes(and mine, and ours) sure seem imperative to the contrast w the other rich man — whether retroactively present tense or future-certain present tense
But/And –yes, it is ultimately only Jesus’ behavior — Jesus’ utter and complete faithfulness —
Jesus’ saving response of love to human failing
that gives us the necessary agency/ability to respond properly to God’s grace…
Z climbs the tree and goes out on a limb for Jesus but it’s Jesus who really goes to the tree for us…
The problem (and it’s a biggie) is that repentance (ultimately speaking) only makes sense when we have a theological God of Vengence. Period. I think many people taught (indoctrinated?) this theology have a very hard time visioning a God of pure love and creation and recreation.
Jesus, for me, is not God’s conduit for repentance. No! He is a Jewish man of his time and place, a man of great vision (apocalyptic…which does not materialize) and justice. He is about feeding the hungry, healing the blind and lame, lifting up the poor and oppressed, giving dignity to those labeled as sub-human and unrepentant.
Unfortunately, Jesus has been recreated as a theological man over the centuries, beginning in full earnest with Book of John. Humanity has been looking for the human Jesus ever since.
As David has stated, I am much more inclined to respond to a relationship of love and vision than a theological and abstract equation , i.e. a+b=c. Vomit!
I love the human Jesus. His followers, especially the theologically trained, I find less alluring. Peace.
Thanks for your comments, Brad. I think we can and do repent in every day life in important – when we hurt or offend others, etc. – especially when we understand repentance as “turning around.” But I still don’t think it’s the only category that describes our life of faith and response to the Gospel, and am not sure it applies here.
A detail: I always dismissed Zaccaeus up a tree as a Sunday School detail until I watched the crowds when the Pope visited the US a year or so ago: as he made his way through Philadelphia, at intersection after intersection there were people hanging onto the traffic lights to get a glimpse. I know it’s an odd reflection for Reformation Sunday, but I think the response of the crowds to Francis has lots to teach us about the stories we hear especially in Luke. The Pope was greeted as a rock star, even (especially) by non-Roman Catholics. I think that was because people really see in Francis someone for whom compassion for the person in front of him always trumps every other consideration. Saint or sinner, it makes no difference in that moment of encounter, and he will always turn toward the child in a wheelchair or whomever at the edge of the crowd. His first response is always to the human person — “who am I to judge?” wasn’t a covert attempt to change church doctrine, but an actual statement of how he wants to engage with people. The question of how this looks or how it relates to doctrine isn’t important in that moment. It’s a lot like the reaction of the crowds in the gospel. And it drives the Pharisees crazy.
Was Zacchaeus’ claim accurate? If he was responding to the crowd, the crowd either didn’t believe him or didn’t find his “repentance” adequate? Do first century writing conventions limit an assumption that Zacchaeus was less than truthful? And what difference does it make? I’m in a place where many people do not tell me the truth (because I’m expecting them to fulfil promises they’ve made to get what they want but don’t want to fulfil those promises)… so maybe I’m just projecting?