31st SUNDAY (C) 31 October 2010

The story of Zacchaeus has always been a favourite gospel passage for children. They seem to identify easily with him. Perhaps it is because he likes climbing trees, or perhaps it is because he is curious and wants to know what is going on. Perhaps it is because he is short and sometimes misses out on many of the things that others see easily. Of course, Zacchaeus is far from being a child. He is an adult man, who has a fairly powerful job as a senior tax collector. Yet Luke seems to want us to see his response as like that of a child. It reminds us of a saying of Jesus elsewhere, that our faith should be like that of a little child. Of course, Jesus is not telling us to have a childish faith, but rather a faith that is child-like. A child-like faith is one that remains fascinated by Jesus and ready to listen to him and follow his sayings.

As we listen to the conversation between Jesus and Zacchaeus we get a sense of what this child-like faith looks like. The conversation – at least in terms of the encounter between the two of them – actually seems to begin before they meet. Zacchaeus had already heard about Jesus and was becoming curious about him. I wonder what he had heard. Perhaps he had heard about his miracles, or the impact his preaching was having on the crowds. Maybe when he was out collecting the taxes, Zacchaeus had met someone who had already heard Jesus preach and was clearly affected by meeting him. Perhaps this person told Zacchaeus that when he met Jesus things were different and that he felt a sense of peace that he had not known for years. However it happened, Zacchaeus’s interest in Jesus had already been aroused – so much so that when he heard that Jesus was moving through the village he ran ahead so that he could get a glimpse of Jesus. At this stage it was probably more a matter of curiosity than anything else. He climbed a tree; from there he could see what was going on, and hope that the townspeople might not notice him.

But Jesus sees him and calls out to him. I imagine that Zacchaeus had not been expecting this. Jesus had initiated a conversation with him, and invites himself to Zacchaeus’s house. We shouldn’t underestimate the significance of this self-invitation. To go to someone’s house was a sign of reconciliation and friendship. By this simple invitation Jesus was really saying to Zacchaeus that his sins were forgiven. Jesus was opening up for him the possibility of changing and of living differently. Zacchaeus clearly understood the significance of what Jesus had said because he immediately speaks to Jesus of how he is going to change his life. He says that not only will he pay back what he has stolen from people, but he will give back to them fourfold. His generosity exceeded the bounds of expectation. Then comes Jesus’ final statement that today salvation has come to this house.

The conversation between Jesus and Zacchaeus was about salvation. In fact, we can call it a “dialogue of salvation”. By this we mean that the conversation with Jesus actually leads to the offer of salvation and its acceptance. The crowds recognised what was going on because they complained about Jesus’ attitude to this tax collector, who they knew was a sinner. The problem they had was that they didn’t believe that Jesus could make that sort of difference is someone’s life. They didn’t believe a dialogue of salvation was possible. Zacchaeus did believe it was possible.

As we listen to this story of Zacchaeus today we are being invited to participate in this dialogue of salvation. What does this mean for us? In the first place it means that we should cultivate the child-like faith of Zacchaeus. In other words, we should allow ourselves to be fascinated by Jesus and his message. Of course, it is a message that we have heard many times before, and we can think that we know it. But if that is our attitude we are merely treating the message as mere information. He second point for us is that the idea of a dialogue means that there is a constant exchange, and that in that exchange we come to know this person Jesus more deeply. The message is only properly received when we know the person. Zacchaeus was fascinated by the person of Jesus, and this made him ready to listen when Jesus spoke to him. In a similar way, if we cultivate that sense of fascination and inquiry, then we can be sure that Jesus will approach us with a similar message, “I want to come to your house today”. Christian faith is always like this; it begins with Jesus calling us and inviting himself into our lives. Our next move is to respond to his invitation.

This leads to the third dimension of the dialogue of salvation. Our response cannot simply be at the level of a feeling or an idea. It must eventually become concrete. The message of Jesus – and the call to conversion – challenges us to think about how we live with other people, how we live in the world, and how we are concerned for the poorest and the weakest. That step is a hard one to take, because it takes us out of our comfort zone. But let’s not forget that it was hard for Zacchaeus, but when he took it he welcomed salvation to his house.

Fr. Gerard Kelly

30th Sunday (C) 24 Oct 2010

Public worship, not private devotional prayer, is argued by scholars as the setting of Jesus’ parable in our Sunday liturgy. The liturgical text from the New American Bible states that the two men “went up the temple to pray,” but the more literal rendition of the Revised Standard Version states that the two went “to worship.” In its more original form, our Sunday Gospel leads us to meditate on what is pleasing worship to God. Jesus says: “…indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him. God is Spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and in truth” (cf Jn 4:23-24).

First, pleasing worship should make us one! The Pharisee and the tax collector are not meant to represent their whole class. They are meant to represent two “types” of extreme dispositions that persons can have when they come to join the community for corporate worship and fellowship. The Pharisee is a personification of those who scrupulously observe the Law. He is sincere, not hypocritical as some imagine him to be. He stated the truth about himself: he was a man who went beyond the perfection that the Mosaic Law seeks. While the Mosaic Law obliges one day of Atonement—the Yom Kippur—this man did penitential fasting twice a week. While the Mosaic Law obliges tithing on agricultural produce, this man tithed on everything! The tax collector, on the other hand, personifies the hopeless arch-sinner. He earned his money through the shameful profession of serving the interests of the Roman exploiters. He beat his breast in great anguish and sorrow because conversion was practically impossible for him. Conversion would mean resigning from a livelihood with which he supported himself and his family. Also, conversion for him meant restoring to individuals all the money he got, plus an interest of one-fifth, the amount as stipulated by the Law. The Mishna taught that theft was only forgivable when full restitution had been made. In coming to the temple to join the atonement offering, the Pharisee and the tax collector committed the same sin, with different reasons. The Pharisee “took up his position and spoke… to himself.” (Other Bible version such as RSV)—“The Pharisee was standing apart by himself and praying.” The Pharisee then came with an attitude of being aloof from the congregation in worship. As Pharisee, he believed that he had to do this because accidental contact with the clothes of the “people of the land” (the ’am ha-aretz) would make him unclean. Besides, personally he had such a strong self-pride. The tax collector, on the other hand, also “stood off at a distance” from the congregation. This time, his aloofness from the worshiping community was due to his strong sense of unworthiness. Either way, the Pharisee and the tax collector were undermining the spirit of worship! Authentic worship should be of one heart and one mind. The words proclaimed in the First Reading from the book of Sirach ring strongly: “The Lord is a God of justice who knows no favorites!”

Second, pleasing worship should open us all to God—to God alone. Worship is not ours; it is not our “performance.” Sincere though he was—for he was really stating the truth about himself and his acts—the Pharisee fell to the trap of the traditional rabbis who taught that the coming of God and the awarding of God’s blessings depended on a person’s repentance and fulfillment of the Law. However, in its true sense, worship is God’s gracious moment! The word “worship” itself developed from “worth ship,” that is, giving God his worth. Worship is asking God to take his place, and to manifest his Godhead. Here was the saving grace of the tax collector. Hopeless and knowing that he was practically incapable of conversion and atonement according to the strict terms of the Law, the tax collector implored, “Hilastheti moi” (“Make an atonement for me!”). He asked God, and God justified him. The Pharisee asked nothing from God, so God gave him nothing. The Pharisee came to worship God, but he did not need God. He was satisfied with himself! At this point it is good to relate what the apostle Paul wrote Timothy from prison. He affirmed that God is a just Judge who awards the crown of righteousness not only to the faithful, but more importantly to those who wait and long for God. So, in worship let us wait on God, long for God, open to him alone.

Is there something we can take from this story? If we were to compare ourselves with the Pharisee on the other hand, and the tax collector on the other, most of us would probably fall somewhere in the middle. We are not quite as arrogant as the Pharisee, but neither are we honest and humble about ourselves as the tax collector. We would benefit from having something less of the Pharisee, and something more of the tax collector. In other words, we need to take a honest look at ourselves and our sins, acknowledge how little we have done with what God has given us, and pray often the prayer of the tax collector, “ O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Fr. Lito