“...to seek Him,
seeking me...”
Scripture Lesson: Luke 19: 1-10
Dr. Matthew Brown
A recurring theme on the acclaimed television drama West
Wing is the insecurity the tall and angular White House Press Secretary, C. J.
Craig, feels about her height. In one
earlier episode C. J. is almost apoplectic when she discovers that the code-name assigned to her by the Secret Service is
“flamingo”.
I guess it’s always been hard for me to comprehend the idea
that those who duck for low-flying planes would feel insecure about their
stature. I always thought that
particular insecurity was reserved for those of us who hover
a little closer to the ground. You know
in all my forty four years no one has ever referred to me as “Hey, Flamingo
Boy.”
I don’t know that I’ve
ever felt particularly insecure about my lack of altitude. I’ve just always figured it is what it is,
and as with so many things, there are advantages and disadvantages that come
along with it. No one ever begins a
conversation with me with the question, “Do you play basketball?” I do tend to get swallowed up in a crowd,
which can be frustrating at times, but occasionally it is a gift. I fit great in a sports car but when
traveling with a group, guess who’s the best candidate to sit on the hump in
the back seat? As a group, we the wee
people probably suffer a lower percentage of head contusions, but as a result
of being short, everybody else knew I was losing my hair before I did.
A few years ago, the administrator of the church I was
serving had to complain to a maintenance company about the faulty work of a
technician they had sent dispatched.
When the technician next appeared in the office he had this whole “John
Wayne going into battle air” about him, and after his grand exit the folks in
the office were laughing at the idea that this rather diminutive man was
suffering from what they called “the short-man’s syndrome,” overcoming one’s
altitudinal insecurity with a mask of bravado.
“The short-man’s syndrome.” Well, I didn’t know whether to laugh or be
offended! After all, it was just a few
days prior to that when an angry parent didn’t receive a satisfactory answer
from our daycare director, the parent growled at her with the threat that she
would just march right up the hall and tell “that little preacher.”
“Zaccheus was a wee little man, a
wee little man was he...” You know that
from the very outset of this story I’m thinkin’, “You
go, Zaccheus!”
And certainly, I was intrigued when I read the debate among scholars
about the verse that is translated: “He
was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not,
because he was short in stature.” It
seems that the Greek doesn’t indicate whether this little statement about
height is referring to Zaccheus or Jesus, and you can
imagine the anxiety some would feel at the thought that Jesus may not have been
the tall figure found in European paintings.
Of course, I’m thinking, “all right Jesus!”
Whatever the case, if there’s a parade coming to town, I
know I’m not seeing anything unless I arrive hours beforehand to get a front
row seat, and so I’m not going unless desperately want to see something. And on that day in
Well, Zaccheus hadn’t arrived early
enough to get a front row seat, and thus ingenuity, desperation, and a sycamore
tree combined to make for a rather intriguing scene.
It would be a simple, necessary, and certainly acceptable
task for a child to shimmy up a tree in order to see, but for an older
gentleman it would require immense effort and could appear downright
silly.
I don’t know about you, but I gave up tree climbing a long
time ago. It is a major embarrassment
for me to even attempt to jump rope anymore.
But there Zaccheus goes, pulling up his tunic
and robe, reaching and moaning for that next branch, hanging on for dear life
when his foot slips, scratching his face on the rough bark, dripping
perspiration, wheezing and out of breath.
But on he went, because he just had to see Jesus. How badly do you want to see Jesus? To what lengths will you go to experience the
living Christ? How important is it for
you to be here and not someplace else?
If something is important enough to us, we’ll find a way,
we’ll weather the inconveniences.
The cooler is stuffed, the tank is filled, the smell of
exhaust fills the air, and the ribbon of traffic stretches much farther than
the eye can see as they hurry up and wait, just as they did last year, just as
they will next year; waiting for the privilege of joining a quarter of a
million of their peers around the huge oval track, waving the colors of their
chosen NASCAR heroes.
A man calls the colleague who has a friend whose wife has a
cousin who is married to a member of Augusta National Golf Club. You would think he was campaigning for a seat
in Congress as he ratchets up the smooth talk and speaks to complete strangers
as if they were old roommates in the house on fraternity row. He secures the coveted date and tee time,
rearranges ten meetings, cancels a business trip, moves a birthday celebration,
and buys a new pair of plaid pants in preparation for the big day when he will
swing, chip, and putt where the masters play.
For all of our complaints of being too busy and
overcommitted, if we truly want to see someone, be somewhere, do something,
we’ll make extraordinary efforts to do it.
Zaccheus sensed that the Lord of
life was coming his way, and he was not going to miss it. What about you? After all, is it not the weekly song that
surely the Lord is in this place? Over a
hundred years ago, Matthew Henry wrote that, “Those who sincerely desire a
sight of Christ, like Zaccheus, will break through
opposition, and take pains to see him.”
What about you?
The threat of embarrassment or humiliation was nothing
compared to Zaccheus’ desire to see the savior. It’s not as though Zaccheus
needed anything more to embarrass himself and suffer more ridicule from the
crowd. Zaccheus
was a publican, a person whose life was dedicated to making money principally
by taking advantage of others. You see,
in the Roman tax system, local contractors, publicans, were hired to collect
the taxes. Whatever the publicans could
wrest from the people over what
Zaccheus had to have a pretty
thick skin, but it was not thick enough to filter out the love and the power
and the grace of Jesus Christ.
He just had to see Jesus, and he was willing to appear the
fool to do it. Some of your peers, friends, and family members think you are
naive, foolish for wasting a good Sunday to be here today. Well, you just remember what the Apostle Paul
proclaimed, “God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness
is stronger than human strength.”
From many different circumstances we have come; with joys
and tears we have come; from wealth or poverty, and sometimes both at the same
time, we have come with the hope that we would see, experience, know the
presence of the living Christ.
And this is where the story and its grace get amazing.
Luke writes, “When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and
said to him, “Zaccheus, hurry and come down; for I
must stay at your house today.” Do you
see what this is saying? We come looking
for Jesus only to discover that Jesus has come looking for us! Isn’t that amazing?
Imagine the dream job that is almost beyond your
imagination. You seal your little resume
in an envelope and drop it in the mailbox muttering to yourself that you’ve
just wasted a stamp because they’ll probably never even read it. You stand in the applicant line that
literally rings the building and is filled with people who look smarter, and
more confident, and maybe even taller than you.
Yet somehow at some point you find yourself in that interview room. What would it mean to you to discover that
all along they were looking for you? You?
Next month we’ll hear and sing the songs that speak of the
messiah, the wonderful counselor, the mighty God, the prince of peace... What would it mean to know that the Lord of
life has been looking for you? We
baptized Caroline and Thomas this morning and no, they didn’t understand all
that was happening, but we baptized them anyway because we understand that the
Spirit of God is working within them, claiming them, naming them as God’s own,
before they are even aware of it.
There’s an old hymn with a rather plain melody I will not
force you to learn that powerfully proclaims the message of this text and the
meaning of our presence here.
I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew,
He moved my soul to seek Him, seeking me; It was not I that found, O Saviour true; No, I was found of Thee;
Thou didst reach forth Thy hand and mine enfold; I walked
and sank not on the storm-vexed sea; ‘Twas not so
much that I on Thee took hold, As Thou, dear Lord, on me.
I find, I walk, I love, but O the whole of love is but my
answer, Lord, to Thee! For Thou wert
long beforehand with my soul; Always Thou lovedst me!
Faith seeks understanding, yes, but understanding is knowing that all along our Lord has been seeking us. “Zaccheus (Joe,
Melissa, Terri, Amanda, any name will fit), hurry and come down; for I must
stay at your house today.”
And, of course, what does the crowd say? “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a
sinner.” Well, Yes! And he’d be doing the same thing if he went
to their house, to your house, or to my house.
Throughout history one of the greatest stumbling blocks to the Christian
faith has been and continues to be the self-righteousness of those who claim
the name Christian. When will we figure
that one out?
But thankfully, Jesus and Zaccheus,
and those celebrating with them were oblivious to that as they reveled in the
joy of salvation; as they experienced the love that transforms self-seeking
into self-giving.
“He moved my soul to seek him, seeking me...”
Well, what of those who could not or did not find the will
and strength to climb a tree that day or any day? What of those who felt lost in the crowd that
day or any day? Well, you see, soon,
Jesus would climb a tree for them. Amen.
Resources:
Hymn: I Sought the
Lord, and Afterward I Knew , George W. Chadwick