Archives for posts with tag: poor

Zacchaeus[1] was a wee little man, but not a man left out, was he. In the pericope of Zacchaeus’ encounter with Jesus (Luke 19:1-10), it is far too easy to skim the beginning of the narrative in order to get to the happy ending of Zacchaeus receiving salvation. Yet without a thorough understanding of the person of Zacchaeus, and his social and economic standing, the reader misses Zacchaeus’ extraordinary life of following Jesus’ economic teachings in light of his vocation and context. One also misses a major characteristic of Jesus, as Lord, the God of Israel who seeks after the lost sheep of Israel, who breaks down assumed boundaries of salvation, and who teaches that how one uses one’s money determines how one is seen in the kingdom of God.

In the Zacchaeus pericope, Christ is the Lord, God, who brings salvation by vindicating and bringing back into the Jewish people, Zacchaeus, who acts in accordance with what it means to live as a son of Abraham. In Luke’s introduction of Zacchaeus, and in Jesus’ response to Zacchaeus’ speech, Luke exhibits, through his orderly narrative structuring, diction, and Christology, that Zacchaeus is a faithful Jew, one who- although he has been ostracized by the religious elite on account of his vocation- lives a life characterized by repentance.

The story of Zacchaeus is a masterful piece of writing by Luke. At the beginning of the pericope, Luke gives three descriptors; he later gives a fourth- sinner. All of these descriptors act to destabilize any readerly expectations concerning the outcome of the passage. How will this Jewish man act in front of Jesus? Will Jesus once again prove a friend to a tax collector? Will Jesus give a rebuke or another condemnatory speech to Zacchaeus because he is rich? By setting up all of these inharmonious narrative boundaries around Zacchaeus, Luke tears all of them down, leaving it to the rest of the pericope to show how Jesus will receive Zacchaeus. Jesus decides Zacchaeus’ fate, not the reader.

Zacchaeus, in his speech, explains to Jesus how he treats his wealth and his vocation; Zacchaues gives to the poor and pays retribution, more than that required, to those he has learned he has defrauded. Alluding to John the Baptist in chapter 3, Luke shows how Zacchaeus lives a life of repentance, illustrating Zacchaeus as a true son of Abraham- a true Jew.[2] As both Luke and Zacchaeus refer to Jesus as Lord in the passage, Luke shows that Jesus is not only the one preaching hope to the poor and ostracized, but also the one who is capable of giving salvation, here and now, as he is the one who has come to seek and to save the lost sheep of Israel.

The church, in its reading of this pericope, must first become destabilized in reference to the labels it puts on different peoples. Those following Christ must name what boundaries we create we self-deceivingly think we have the authority and wisdom to decide who does and who does not deserve to receive God’s salvation, grace, and favor.

Jesus turns the world’s narratives on their heads and summons those who might follow him to live a life of repentance, which in the Zacchaeus pericope means giving one’s wealth to the poor and seeking justice in economic structures. When the church lives like so, may it pray in hope to hear the words, “Today, salvation has come to this house.”


[1] This short exercise comes from a larger exegetical paper submitted in Dec. ’10.

[2] To see examples of Luke’s regard exemplary Jews in Luke, Cf. 1:5-7, 26-38; 2:25, 36, 41; 4:16, etc.

“In the Name of God, I, take you, neighbor, to be one loved of God, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

You might recognize these (slightly modified) words as those oftentimes repeated as couples vow to each other while making their marriage covenant.

What if we all approached ‘the other’ with such care and with such a covenant?

While I do not much care for rhetorical questions (they are hardly ever constructive and often strike of pretentious piousness), I offer this question up for some discussion.

At my confirmation service this past week, my bishop reflected on watching the much anticipated royal wedding. While admittedly more infatuated with Archbishop Williams’ vestments than the royal couple, the bishop said he was struck anew by the vows: those same vows written above, which he has repeated many times at various weddings. He urged the congregation to consider not limiting these vows to the married couple, but to approach all peoples with such a mind-set and spirit. Care for the sick, no matter their income. Love the other, whether or not they can/will return the love. Do these things in the spirit of Christ until death.

I like to think of marriage as a verb; it is something one does, not a ceremony left behind at the alter. It is a way of thinking and approaching the other person. It is being and revealing the grace of God to the other at all times whether or not the person deserves it (Side not: yes, none deserve the grace of God, as none can do anything worth meriting it). This is why we call marriage a sacrament. It is a outward sign that reveals, in a dynamic way, the grace and forgiveness of God. Marriage is not a day, but a covenant of continued love and forgiveness, witnessing to the grace of God.

As a sacrament, marriage has an end; it has a goal or telos. This is holiness. The couple reveals to each other the grace of God, and depending on your view of sacrament, marriage may impart that grace onto the other person. As we receive the grace of God through the sacrament of Eucharist, which offers us a foretaste of heaven as it ever consumes us more and more into the body of Christ, marriage portrays the right relationship in which God intends us to be; to put it in other words, we live into the eschatological hope- the narrative of peace between all peoples where swords are no longer destructive tools for war, but are productive tools for tilling. Marriage points to this existence and works towards achieving it now, albeit manifestly imperfect.

But perhaps, as the bishop suggested, the covenantal relationship shared between the married couple is not reserved for them only; it is a covenantal relationship that the baptized Christian has with the Church- the body of Christ- and the rest of the world. The Christian loves the poor. The Christian cares for the sick. The Christian loves those worse off, the prisoner, the captive, the enemy. The Christian does these things to give witness to the body of which they are apart- that of the crucified and risen Christ; the body through which grace has come and will come to the world and those in it. This witness can only look to the world as foreign, as upside down. But it is a witness to that which we have been called, holiness. It is a witness that peace can exist between peoples and that those of us called Christians are, by grace, creating space for that peace now

The wedding vows heard in a marriage ceremony witness not only to the covenant that the couple makes to one another, but also witnesses to the Christian engagement with the world-  a narrative of care and commitment to the other, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death does part.

Grace and Peace,

DJR