I, Zacchaeus

For most of us the story of Zacchaeus is one of our earliest biblical memories. I can only assume this is because of the annoyingly catchy song that we all grew up singing (Zacchaeus was a wee little man). And for most of us, we had the same bland themes drummed into our heads: Jesus loves everybody, Jesus is willing to seek us out, Jesus was a friend of sinners, and so on.

Those themes are all present in this story but to say that the story of Zacchaeus is about ‘Jesus loving everybody’ is like saying that Harry Potter is the tale of a boy who got bullied by his cousin. There is so much more to the story. We tend to focus on Jesus when we read stories from the gospel – which is understandable. The real spiritual exercise for the Zacchaeus story, however, is found in the character of Zacchaeus himself.

Before we go any further, let’s take a minute to refresh ourselves on the story (Luke 19:1-10).

Jesus comes to visit the town of Jericho. There lives a man named Zacchaeus who is a sinful, tax collector and who is also very short. Zacchaeus is curious about this Jesus character and wants to get a look at Him; the only problem is that there is a large crowd and Zacchaeus is short. So, to solve the problem Zacchaeus runs ahead and climbs a Sycamore tree. Out of everyone assembled that day, Jesus singles out Zacchaeus the sinner and invites Himself over to Zacchaeus’ house for dinner.

If we focus solely on Jesus then yes, the theme is that of Jesus seeking out the sinner, the lost sheep, the lost coin, etc. But we must place ourselves in the shoes of Zacchaeus if we truly wish to grow.

 It’s easy to picture Jesus seeking us out. It’s a comforting thought and it’s true; God is constantly seeking relationship with us. If that’s all we learn from the story, however, then we are headed for disappointment. If our approach to the spiritual life is to sit back, kick up our feet and wait for God to come find us then we are setting ourselves up to fail. More importantly, if that’s our approach then we didn’t learn anything from the story of Zacchaeus.

Remember: Zacchaeus is short. Rarely if ever, do we see the gospel writers go to such great lengths to emphasize someone’s physical characteristics. There is a reason why they accentuate his height. It is a stumbling block that prevents him from encountering Jesus. 

What things prevent you from encountering Jesus?

Maybe you are struggling to pay attention to the gospel and the homily because of a new baby. Maybe you are having trouble forgiving a family member and often find your quiet time disrupted by irritated thoughts about the situation. Maybe you are angry at God because you have suffered tragedy or loss. Whatever it is that may be hindering you, it puts you squarely in the place of Zacchaeus – so learn from him.

Don’t sit back and wait for God to break down your door. Don’t cross your arms defiantly and wait for a miracle to bring you back into the fold. God is searching for you always, but He won’t force Himself against your will. Put yourself in a place – physically and spiritually - where you can encounter Him. Keep in mind, it may not be easy.

The story of Zacchaeus implies a certain level of physical exertion. They use the verbs ‘run’ and ‘climb’ when they describe Zacchaeus’ efforts to encounter Jesus. Don’t overlook this detail: Zacchaeus must work to make it happen. It’s easy to become frustrated, especially if you have tried and failed in the past, but Jesus is speaking to you through this gospel.

Jesus is reaching out to you in the promise He gives to Zacchaeus – the promise He is extending to you, this very second. “Today salvation has come to this house, because this person, too, is a child of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what is lost.” – Luke 19:9-10

Jesus is waiting.

Find your tree and begin your climb.

Suffering Amplifies Our Joy

We have all experienced a head cold. As a teacher, I am particularly susceptible to them since I spend every day around children. They come on suddenly, when out of a clear blue sky we feel that ominous, tickling sensation deep in our sinus cavities, often accompanied by a sneeze or two. For a brief while we convince ourselves that it’s just allergies, or a little dust in our sinuses. We mollify our fragile psyches with false assurances: “it’s not a cold… I’ll be fine.” But the moment inevitably arrives when our nose becomes a faucet and our head a throbbing, pressure cooker. The congestion eventually settles in our chest as we begin the agonizing cycle of coughing, exacerbated by a sore throat.

This is suffering. It strikes unforeseen, sadistically disrupting our daily routines.

There is a moment during every cold where the same thought inevitably crosses my mind: “How on earth could I have taken for granted the wonderful feeling of being able to breathe through my nose, having no congestion, being able to finish a sentence without coughing up a lung.” Suddenly, the simplest blessings, things we take for granted every day, become our heart’s greatest desire. And when the cold finally abates, there follows a day or two where we truly are appreciative of our good health. But that period of gratitude comes and goes all too quickly… until the next cold, that is.

I assume most people can relate to the trials of a head cold. I write about the experience with a healthy dose of hyperbole (in case you couldn’t tell), but the sensation, exaggerated as this account may be, is all too real. A head cold in the grand scheme of things is low on the list of actual tribulations. As terrible as it may seem at the time, it pales in comparison to the true suffering of a terminal illness, the death of a loved one, financial catastrophe, unanswered prayers, unrequited love. These are the experiences that have tortured human existence for time immemorial, leading many to nihilism and misery. No matter what our station in life, no matter the size of our bank role or the strength of our arm, we are all subject to the world-shattering travails of human suffering. Suffering and death are the two great equalizers.

But what if we could eradicate misery? How many of us at different times in our lives have wished it could be so? Imagine a world without suffering, without death. At first glance it seems like Eden reborn, like a perfect utopia. And if it came to be it certainly would feel wonderful… but only for a little while. Eventually however, true Joy would become a distant memory, unattainable. Our greatest achievements would be as straw upon the wind or a single grain of sand upon the seashore. Existence, life, the very act of being itself would cease to possess even the tiniest sliver of meaning.

In truth, it is suffering, imperfection, death and misery that allow us to experience and appreciate the absence of sorrow, the ordinary, the everyday. In the same way that a head cold helps us to value good health; in a much more powerful way death and suffering allow us to treasure life because of its fragility – rather than in spite of it.

There is a scene in the movie Troy where the hero Achilles speaks of the inherent beauty of mortality. He makes the claim that the gods of the Greek pantheon who are immortal and exponentially more powerful than humans, are in fact envious of our humanity. Achilles says:

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

This perspective is certainly cold comfort to anyone in the midst of grief. Grief is inescapable, it is the natural reaction that our body makes in response to tragedy. You could no more prevent grief than you could stop your hair from growing. But for those of us who are not currently struggling through misery, those of us who are in the middle of our seemingly ordinary, day to day humdrums, should take a moment to reflect upon this thought. There is no such thing as an ‘ordinary day.’ Every day is beautiful. Every day is a gift from God. Every day ended, is gone forever. And that is beautiful. Suffering is in our future, death lies ahead, misery waits… But beauty is in the contrast, happiness is in the ordinary, joy is in the now.

“But seek first the kingdom [of God] and His righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides. Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient unto the day, is the evil thereof.” – Matthew 6:33-34