Sermon For The Nineteenth Sunday Of Ordinary Time 2025
Luke 19:1-10
I remember it well: I went to my first metal concert. I was 18 years old, and one of my favorite bands, Megadeth, came to town. I got a ticket for about $30, and on that Friday night, I left work with mounting excitement. I was working in retail at the time, so I got there with hair about this length, wearing a polo shirt; not the most suitable wear for a mosh pit. But I didn’t care. I was early, so I went and staked out my spot on the rail. I don’t idolize the musicians, really; it was more about being close to the action, close to the sound, as a part of the mix as was possible. I spent the next few hours fighting to keep that spot. At 6 foot and 150-160 pounds, I wasn’t the biggest or strongest, but I was definitely scrappy. I stayed on that rail the entire show; the only movement that happened was getting pushed down the line gradually, and that only because I was so sweaty that my hands kept slipping from post to post.
When we care about something, when we must be a part of it, must see and experience it, we will do whatever we can to be there. This is the kind of motivation that lived inside the heart of Zaccheus, a small but powerful man, chief tax collector in Jericho. This man had, like so many tax collectors, likely defrauded people, and was an outcast among his people. Though it is not said, I think it likely that this was a man who had found that wealth was not enough in life. So when he heard that this man who had been causing all kinds of commotion throughout Palestine, this Jesus the Prophet, he perhaps saw a chance to find what he was really seeking. This was a man who had a need for something, and perhaps Jesus was the one who could help.
So he climbed the tree. And Jesus, seeing the man, one so dedicated to seeing who he was, called to him. “‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’” Another way we might see this is that Jesus calls him, not just verbally, but by his power in a spiritually profound way. He called him, as only Jesus by the Holy Spirit kind. I must stay at your house, Jesus calls to each of us; I have come to be present with you. And Zaccheus, something stirring in him, offers his hospitality.
Hospitality in the ancient world was a sacred obligation, a deeply important compact made between the host and the guest. But what is really happening here is that Jesus is the truly hospitable one, offering to Zaccheus to receive him; Zaccheus’s hospitality, receiving Jesus, is predicated on the call of Jesus, his hospitality in offering himself, to Zaccheus, and to us.
Right before this passage was the famous story of the rich young ruler. He, confronted by Jesus, receiving the same offer to accept Jesus and therefore to let go of everything that stands in the way of following him, refused because of his great wealth. Zaccheus, encountering Jesus, has the opposite response. “half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.’” Zaccheus receives the invitation of Jesus, the hospitality of God, as a result follows him. Note the order: Zaccheus searches, Jesus calls to him, Zaccheus receives Jesus, and as a result, his life changes. Despite his sin, his role as a tax collector, his questionable role in society, Jesus says, “‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’”
Kids, have you ever felt lost? I know that I have had a few experiences as a kid where I got separated from my parents. Once was at the country fair. It was terrible. I was so short I couldn’t see over people, and the crowd was so dense I couldn’t see through them. I was scared, and felt alone. I was anxious that I might not be able to find them. That is what it was like for Zaccheus, I think. He didn’t know why, but he needed to see over these other people, he needed to know who was on the other side of them. It was like he was a little kid in a crowd, looking for his parent, even though he didn’t know that’s what he needed. We need Jesus even more than I needed my parent, and when we seek he will see us and answer. And what he gives us is all the safety, and care, and life, that we could ever need.
We all have questions, want answers, want to see who this Jesus is. And he is far more compelling, surprising, and even shocking than I think any of us are actually prepared for. We have a tendency to tame him, to make our “own personal Jesus.” The important thing is for us to seek, to climb a tree, to get on the concert rail, to climb the mountain, to try to see who this Jesus is. And when he calls us, we need to respond, receive his gracious hospitality and offer our own in return, and see what change he effects in us. Like Zaccheus, we need to let go of the things we are holding on to, whatever is holding us back from that abundant life that he offers. It might be fear. Resentment. Greed. A need for security. A hidden sin. Desire for a relationship, or a broken relationship. Whatever it is, it is holding you back from life. To be truly free, which is to say, to live as people of God’s Kingdom even in the here and now, means we cannot be enslaved to our concerns. We have to see the promise of God as all we truly need, and be willing to let all else go. That is freedom. That is life. Like Zaccheus, seek Jesus; when he calls to you, receive him; and as the Holy Spirit works in you, let yourself be formed into the likeness of Jesus Christ, the incarnate God, to his glory, Amen.
