Met at the point of our greatest need

Zacchaeus had an image problem. His name meant “righteous, pure one,” but no one believed it. He stood barely five feet tall with his shoes off, there’s nothing wrong with being short—and that wasn’t his problem anyway! He was head tax-collector for the Roman in the town of Jericho and this made him both the richest man in town and the least popular. Everyone assumed that he was so rich because he was skimming off the top of what he collected.

When Jesus came to town, nobody would make room for him to see, so he shinnied up a sycamore tree so he could see something more than just the backs of other people's heads, and that's where he was when Jesus spotted him.

"Zacchaeus," Jesus said for all to hear, "get down out of there in a hurry. I'm having dinner tonight at your house!" All of Jericho must have been stunned. I suspect that Zacchaeus was too. It’s a wonder that he didn’t just fall out of the tree in shock!

And he was not the only one stunned and surprised, but probably not in a good way.  If Jesus were running for office and they had attack ads in the first century, you can almost hear the ominous music and the deep bass of the voice over artist saying: “Jesus eats with tax-collectors. Jesus. Wrong on taxes. Wrong for Judea.”

But in fact Jesus knew what he was doing. When Jesus called to Zacchaeus and invited himself to dinner, he shows us just who it is that God is seeking, who God welcomes into the reign of God, and what God wants us to be. Most of all Jesus is invites us to see the world through God’s eyes and shows us God’s over-the-top generosity and grace.

That’s the heart of Jesus’ message in the Gospel of Luke. All through this part of the Gospel, we see Jesus seeking out people who live on the fringes of society and the community of faith. We hear Jesus welcome little children (18:15-17). Then Jesus welcomes a rich man who has followed the law his whole life but can’t let go of his wealth and instead walks away sad (18:18-30). Jesus heals a blind beggar (18:35-43). Finally, in today’s Gospel, Jesus welcomes and eats with a rich scoundrel that no one likes, Zacchaeus . Luke’s Gospel is telling us that if Jesus can welcome into God’s reign children, blind beggars, and scoundrels, then surely he has room for the likes of us.

Now notice something here: Zacchaeus did not change jobs. He apparently did not stop being a tax-collector. When Jesus called another tax-collector named Levi, also known as Matthew, to be an apostle, he dropped everything and followed Jesus. Today’s Gospel reminds us that not everyone who followed Jesus put aside their occupation. Instead, some people put their money and their words together in God’s service. In the Gospels, the followers of Jesus don’t just say “hey, Jesus, thanks! That’s nice.” In the Gospels, the followers of Jesus act! They put their words and actions together.

I have a theory, and that is that while most preachers (including me!) have seen this story solely as a conversion story, I now think of it as a "coming out" story. I have come to think that Zacchaeus was, in fact, as righteous as his name implies, but it took his encounter with Jesus demonstrate that he was really serious about it– and for others to put aside their judgements and see him as the faithful follower he was. When he said that he would return many-fold any money that was fraudulently taken, he was not buying his salvation but declaring his honesty before God, before Jesus, and before a skeptical crowd. It turns out that his generosity reflected the faithfulness and change that was already going on inside of him—if there was no yearning for wholeness and reconciliation, then why would have risked climbing that tree? When Jesus entered his home, he discovers salvation—being made whole by God.

I suspect that Zacchaeus’ journey towards God… was well underway when he got up in that sycamore tree. But it took a while for people—not just Zacchaeus but all the people who knew him, or thought they knew him—to catch on.

Zacchaeus sought Jesus. Jesus sought and affirmed Zacchaeus. And his affirmation of faith and repentance and the salvation that Jesus proclaimed in Zacchaeus’ house made him whole… his inner search and struggle for faith and acceptance met the outward expression of repentance and generosity.

The big take away from today’s Gospel is this: When we seek Jesus, we find that Jesus is seeking us. Jesus meets us precisely where we need to be met, at the point of our greatest need. When we seek Jesus we are allowing him to the most vulnerable part of our selves so that his saving love might heal us. In meeting Jesus, we are changed from the inside out. And when we change we act.

For one thing, as Zacchaeus shows us, our relationship towards our possessions and our things changes. We move from people who uses our stuff to protect us against, or at least distract us from, pain or to compensate for whatever feels short or incomplete or unlovely in our lives.

The other take away is that Jesus’ invitation to this person on the fringe revealed a faithfulness that no one could see because it did not occur to them that people on the fringe even deserve salvation.  

So, there are two lessons going on here that we can all use in our Christian living:

First, faithful people show up in unexpected places. When Jesus met people at the fringes of respectable society, he was calling out and raising up people living as faithfully as they could but who, up until then, were marked as “outsiders” because of their status, their nationality, their way of life, or their occupation. He was telling them that their faith, no matter how outside the norm, makes them whole.

Second, Zacchaeus learned (and then taught us) that everything we have comes from God. Our task is to use what God has given us for God’s purpose. So, as our faith grows, as we learn and do the work of Jesus, we can choose to use our time, our talent, our things, and yes, our money, for God’s purposes.

And what is God’s purpose? That we love God with all our heart, soul, and mind. We love our neighbor. And more than that, that we love one another the way Jesus loves us. With everything we have. Jesus’ love for us is sacrificial and meets us where we are with what we need.

So, are you a student? Use what you have for God’s purpose. Do you have a place to live and food to eat? Use it for God’s purpose. Do you have talent and skill? Use them for God’s purpose. Do you have a profession or a responsibility? Be ethical, competent, and generous…use it for God’s purpose. And what is God’s purpose? The Catechism in our Prayer Book says that our purpose is “To restore all humanity and creation to unity with God and each other in Jesus Christ.” As you orient your stuff to God’s purpose, you will discover how to learn and do the work of Jesus in your everyday living!

That’s what was going on for Zacchaeus. He went looking for Jesus and found Jesus looking for him. Jesus invited himself into Zacchaeus’ home, because Zacchaeus made room in his home and heart for God. 

It’s funny, isn’t it? We might not know how much we’ve changed until we find ourselves out on a limb looking for Jesus looking for us. And when we make room for Jesus, we find that Christ is already at home in us.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost  at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to the Scripture readings.

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy.

Choosing mercy before it's too late

Today’s Gospel is a familiar old story, one that appears over and over again, not just in the Bible but in everything from classic literature to Lifetime movies. You know, the story of a very wealthy guy who experiences some sort of divine judgement.

In story that we just heard a Luke’s Gospel, there are two dead men, one rich and the other a beggar named Lazarus.

The Rich Man (we don’t know his name) was dressed in the finest clothes and had everything going for him. But he ignored when Lazarus, even though he encountered day after day. When they both died, Lazarus is comforted by Abraham; but the Rich Man has gone to the place of the dead, what we would call hell. He calls up to Abraham to send down Lazarus the beggar to give him some water. Nope, says Abraham. He is no longer a beggar, and he is certainly not your servant.  Well, then, the Rich Man says, send him to warn my brothers to straighten up so they don’t end up down here with me. Nice idea, says Father Abraham, but it is too late… besides they have all the information they need. They still have the chance to do the right thing…all they have to do is look and choose.

I love this kind of story because by working on our imagination, we begin to see the world differently.

The late Jewish philosopher Martin Buber collected and told stories about the travelling Hasidic rabbis from Jewish folklore in Czarist Russia and Ukraine. One such story is about a travelling rabbi who came to town and went to the home of the wealthiest man in town. He asked for a place to sleep and something to eat. Taken to be a nothing more than a poor beggar, he is turned brusquely away. He then goes to the home of the humble village schoolteacher, who gives the stranger his own bed, some food and drink. The next day the stranger goes to the Synagogue and teaches. When he realizes that the man was not a beggar but a famous, travelling rabbi, the rich man invites him to stay at his home. No, thank you, the Rabbi says, I will stay with the schoolteacher. You had your chance to welcome me when no one was looking, you cannot now welcome me when everyone is watching.

During Jesus’ time, the poor, the lame, and the blind were often viewed as "the stranger." A few chapters before today’s lesson, Jesus offered this counsel: "When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or our kinsmen or rich neighbors ... but when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, [and] the blind" (Luke 14:12-14). In the Gospel of Matthew, in another story about those welcomed into heaven and those who were not, Jesus teaches that God told those who are welcomed into heaven, "I was hungry and you fed me. I was a stranger and you welcomed me." But to the others he said, "Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for ... I was hungry and you gave me no food. I was a stranger and you did not welcome me." Both the people who were welcomed and those sent away were surprised. They had no idea that how they treated the poor, the sick, the hungry and the stranger was important to God.

One of the occupational hazards of being a priest is that if you go out in public dressed in uniform, someone is liable to come up and hit you up for cash. They always have a story—and sometimes I’d like to give points for creativity—and I have learned not to say “no” so much as to direct people to the places and people who can do real good. Our friends at Good Neighbors have come up with an idea… put a days’ worth of food in a one-quart zipper bag, and give these to homeless folks on the streets, especially when they ask us for a handout. (I’d love it if some of us got together and put together a bunch of these bags to give out to folks in need!)

But there is more to Jesus’ story than just a call to do good case work. There is the call to understand both the implications of our wealth and our responsibility to use what we have for God’s purposes.  The Rich Man in the story was not so much blinded by his wealth, as he lived with a hardened heart. He saw only what he saw. Even if he occasionally threw a coin or a bread crust in the direction of Lazarus, he never saw the poor beggar as a person. Certainly not as a person worthy of God’s love, let alone his attention.

You see, if we look around we see we have the chance to feed the poor and the hungry, yes, but we also have the chance to push aside prejudice and fear, to bring dignity to those who had been cast aside, to bring comfort to those who grieve.

There have been times during my priesthood when I have been invited to go on “ride-arounds,” when I would accompany a police officer on his or her nightly rounds. Very quickly, you learn that this is an occupation where the officer often sees people at their worst… people who are in crisis, who are in trouble, who are upset, who are in the midst of doing something wrong. As a priest and one-time chaplain, I’ve seen how this affects how one views one’s neighbor. I learned that most police officers leave the profession within seven years, because of the stress and the spiritual toll it takes on one.

As the Rev. Gayle Fisher-Stewart, an African-American Episcopal priest, and a twenty year veteran of law enforcement in Washington, DC, says that when police only see what they see, and the police both reflect and carry the assumptions of the society they serve. And it is not only people in blue who look with suspicion upon people of color, or the poor, or people with emotional and psychological issues. They are only doing what we do all the time.

In a world where people are more and more empowered to stand one’s ground, to go through life defensively, to fear rather than love, the story of the rich man and Lazarus takes on deep resonance.

There is a deep connection between how we approach the poor and how we greet the stranger. In God’s economy: there are no makers and no takers because God is the maker of us all and the faithful take hold of God’s power in love. In God’s reign, there is no black or white. In Christ’s kingdom there is no rich or poor, male or female, slave or free. A basic sign of the presence of God’s kingdom is the dignity with which we treat even the poor, the different, the outcast. We have the chance right now to use what we have for God’s purpose. And we can choose what we see. We can choose to be like the Rich Man in Jesus’ story and step over the poor beggar Lazarus. Or we can choose another way.

Even small acts of caring, everyday acts of justice, and ordinary moments of compassion, announce that God’s reign is here, God’s love is alive, and that God’s transforming spirit is moving among us. We see around who and what is around us. We have the choice to act for God’s people as God’s people.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost  at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to the Scripture readings.

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy.

"We ain't poor!"

It has been said that dogs have masters but cats have staff. I learn this every time I visit my daughter’s house and her cat pretty well decides whether I am worthy of attention or not. Since I am not on the feeding staff of that household, my utility is quite limited.  My grand-doggy on the other hand definitely has a master, and she pretty well listens to whatever my son tells her, but whenever I visit, my main purpose is give scritches until she says to stop (which is never!). In both cases, the animals pretty well have my number.
If I am a member of my grand-kitty’s staff and if my grand-doggie has psyched me out, I kind of suspect that they have done the same to their resident humans. I wonder… who owns whom?
I don’t think this question is limited to dogs and cats. Given the time and attention my stuff demands from me, I wonder if in fact my possessions don’t own me. If they don’t, in fact, own us all?
Think about it.  What happens when your car breaks down on a very busy workday or if your roof springs a leaks or what if your computer crashes in the middle of a project? Having a reliable computer, an operable car and a water-tight roof is a good thing—a worthwhile investment to be sure—as my dad used to say, if you you’re your tools to care for you then you’d better take care of them!
It works that way spiritually, too. Jesus warns us in today’s Gospel to be aware of all kinds of greed—for life consists of much more than the abundance of possessions. Another way to say this is: if we want our things to do their job, then we’d better care for what’s inside us first. First the heart…then the stuff.
Jesus said that to a man who came asked him to sort out a question of a shared inheritance. Now going to a rabbi to sort out a dispute was a fairly common in the first century. In still happens in Judaism. The late Jewish theologian and sociologist Martin Buber recorded the teaching of the Rabbis of 17^th and 18^th century Russia in a book called “Tales of the Hasidim” recording the stories of Rabbi Baal Shem Tov., today, especially in Hasidic and some Orthodox communities, stories are still a main way that faith is taught.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus is doing what Jesus does, he tells a parable—in this case a story typical of the rabbinic tradition. It went like this: a rich man had some fields and one year he had a bumper crop. So he says to himself “Self, why not store up all this extra grain in new and bigger barns and live off of the proceeds?” So that’s exactly what he does. He ate, he drank, he was very merry until, whoops, the next day he died.
Jesus asks: What good did all that preparation and investment do in the long run? Not much.
Jesus tells the crowd, the man with the inheritance (and us), “Beware of storing up treasure outside but being poor inside.”
The man in Jesus’ story is a kind of a "Functional Atheist." You know, a person whose everyday practice and behavior happens without reference to God or to faith. Notice that when the man discovers he has way more grain that he can either use or sell, he takes his own council. He does not bring his situation to God and he does not take it to his community. He says to himself “build bigger barns!” The rich fool may protest that he has always believed in God, but when it comes to managing his life, dealing with possessions and planning for the future, he lives as though there were no God.
He also forgets the purpose of his abundance which is to share it with others; to use it for the good of all. By hoarding his abundance, he squanders the opportunity his good fortune brought him to share that good fortune with others. He revels in his stuff, but does not feel blessed, and so he has no blessing to share!
Contrast this with another story in the Bible about a person who managed a bumper crop—Joseph. A person that everyone in Jesus’ hearing would know about. Remember from the Book of Genesis and the musicial: “Joseph, he was Jacob’s favorite son of all the family Joseph was the special one?” Joseph was a man given to dreams and their interpretation. It was a gift from God that gets him in a heap of trouble. Through a series of misadventures he lands in jail, where he hears that Pharaoh had a dream of abundance and scarcity. Joseph rightly interpreted Pharaoh’s dream and was then tasked to manage Egypt’s abundance in advance of the famine. Joseph, in contrast to the foolish rich man in Jesus’ story, was doing God’s work for the benefit of many.
Now Jesus knew that when he told his story to the man who came to him, that people would think of Joseph. They knew their Bible, that’s for sure! They’d understand that the Rich Man in Jesus’ story forgot that his abundance was a gift from God. The man in the story is the opposite of Joseph because he was out of tune with God and who hoards his gifts instead of sharing them.
Jesus is telling us that things are not the problem. Money is not the problem. The root of all evil is not money— the saying is actually “the love of money is the root of all evil.” It is our attitude towards money and our attitude towards our things, our time, and our talent that can either create heartache or generate blessing. Our stuff and our money can be our power for good… or our main distraction.
As Jesus said—beware that we don’t get so busy with the having things, that we forget whose and for whom they are.
Heartache or blessing. Scarcity or abundance. No matter how much we have, we have a choice and chance to be in control. The solution is here—in our hearts and our attitude and our mindset.
Allow me to share a story of my own. It comes from Florence Ferrier about a social worker somewhere in poverty-stricken Appalachia. It's called "We Ain't Poor!”
The Sheldons were a large family in severe financial distress after a series of misfortunes. The help they received was not adequate, yet they managed their meager income with ingenuity -- and without complaint.
One fall day Ferrier visited the Sheldons in the ramshackle rented house they lived in at the edge of the woods. Despite a painful physical handicap, Mr. Sheldon had shot and butchered a bear which strayed into their yard once too often. The meat had been processed into all the big canning jars they could find or swap for. There would be meat in their diet even during the worst of the winter when their fuel costs were high.
Mr. Sheldon offered their visitor a jar of bear meat. She hesitated to accept it, but the giver met the unspoken resistance firmly. "Now you just have to take this. We want you to have it. We don't have much, that's a fact; but we ain't poor!"
Well, what's the difference between not having much and being poor? Mr. Sheldon’s answer “was that when you can give something away, even when you don't have much, then (as he would say) you ain't poor. When you don't feel easy giving something away, when you hang on to it, even if you’ve got more than you need, then you're poor, whether you know it or not."
When we know that everything we have is provided by God, and that everything we have can be used for God’s purpose then we will be rich when we use tap into the gift of God’s generosity, it seems ungracious to doubt that our needs will be met without our clinging to every single morsel.
 Jesus and Mr. Sheldon both teach us something about where real wealth is found: wealth is found in an abundant and generous heart.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost  at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to the Scripture readings.

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy.