Homily C16 Proper 26

Homily for

The 24th Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 26 - Time of the Church

Sunday 30 October 2016

The Episcopal Church of the Holy Cross

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

A Parish of the Diocese of Bethlehem and The Episcopal Church

Readings:

http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearC_RCL/Pentecost/CProp26_RCL.html

Now here is a Gospel reading we all know well.  As I have sat with this Gospel over the course of the past week, I have had visions and memories of Sunday School when I as a kid was taught to sing about Zacchaeus and the sycamore tree he climbed in order to get a good view of Jesus of Nazareth as he passed through Jericho.  I bet right about now at least some of you are humming that very song in your heads and remembering being taught this when you also were a child.

You have heard me say a good many times in the past, and God willing you will hear it many more times to come, that there is something wonderful in these passages we know so well, and there is also a trap in them.  We can all too easily fall into the temptation that we know all that there is to know about a passage of the Scriptures that we know well.  The way to address this is to approach even those Gospel moments as if we are hearing them for the very first time all over again and to ask the Holy Spirit to open our hearts and minds that we might receive Christ the Teacher in our midst as the Scriptures are opened before us.

That is our challenge.  In these next few moments I want you to set aside any memory of Zacchaeus and to stand with me at that sycamore tree in Jericho looking for something fresh and new.  And let me share with you, by the way, that this is possible.  I say that because in my own study and preparation for preaching this Sunday there were things that jumped off the page that quite frankly I never noticed before.  This experience by the way reminds me of an experience in my seminary days when a world-renowned Swedish New Testament scholar and bishop of the Church – once the Archbishop of Sweden – shared with us Seminarians that in spite of how many times he may have read a passage of the Scriptures, there was always something new that he discovers that he never saw before.  This by the way was a man in his 80’s.

Remember as we think about the Scriptures that there is great significance in names.  The Bible describes moment after moment in which a child was given a name because the meaning of that name contained the very hopes and dreams of the parents for their child.  On other occasions in the Bible we find that when the characters of the stories are named we also find the definition of the name.  But then there are other moments when the Bible itself names a name but says nothing whatsoever of the meaning.  Today’s Gospel is one such place where no meaning is given us for the name of this Chief Tax Collector who climbs the sycamore tree in Jericho.

We may need some help understanding the name of the short chief tax collector.  Don’t think for a moment though that the Jews who crossed paths with Jericho on the most ordinary of days and certainly on this very extraordinary day when Jesus called this man and invited himself into this man’s home didn’t think about the meaning of the name of Zacchaeus!  It was a moment of irony at best, contradiction at worst, in the ears of the crowds.  This name means “righteous one or pure one.”

Think back to last week.  You may recall that I shared with you then that in the generation of the disciples the tax collectors were viewed as “lesser than a Samaritan.”  Popular opinion was that there was nothing of purity or righteousness in tax collectors.  And this short man who couldn’t see over the crowds was the chief of tax collectors!  If the collectors in general were considered the scum of the day, how much more so were the leaders of the tax collectors.  And yet here is Zacchaeus the Chief Tax Collector, bearing the name that points to purity and righteousness.

So what is going on here?  Is this a wonderful example of irony for us also?  Trust me when I say that there have been plenty of sermons preached on Zacchaeus that would seem to point in that direction.  Even more make of the tax collector the image of conversion and repentance.  But there is something in this text that is hidden from us in the translation in most translations from Greek to English, including this one we have heard in our midst.

Jump ahead past the sycamore tree and into the home of Zacchaeus for a moment.  In that home Zacchaeus speaks to Jesus about the giving of alms (charity) and a commitment to honest, integrity, and fairness in collecting taxes.  The reading as we have heard it (from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible) translates these words as a future event.  We are left then with the impression that there is a moment of conversion and repentance in this encounter with Jesus.  Zacchaeus is shown as saying to Jesus that he will give to the poor and he will repay whatever he took from others that he did not need to take in collecting taxes, and will do so at a rate of four times greater than what was taken wrongly by him.

This by the way was a powerful statement.  Chief among the reasons why the people hated tax collectors so much was that the taxes were cloaked in secrecy.  Only the Roman government who set the taxes and the collectors who gathered them knew the established tax rate.  Moreover the Roman government actually set up a perfect breeding ground for corruption and fraud.  The government didn’t actually pay the tax collectors a dime!  They simply told the collectors from whom they were to collect and how much they were to submit to Rome.  They were given some advisement on how much to take and keep for themselves, but ultimately the collectors were not paid a salary nor given a set figure to keep as their own livelihood.  The collectors could keep as little or as much as they wished, and since the taxes were secretive, those who paid Rome through them had no way of knowing if they were or were not being robbed blind.

Now let’s jump back to Zacchaeus.  I must admit that in this past week I was shocked to read in my studies that when Zacchaeus speaks on the matters of almsgiving and reparations of fraud, he is not speaking of what shall be but rather of what already is.  Only the most literal (and often times most difficult to read because of their commitment to being literal) reflect the fact that in the Greek this tax collector whose name means righteousness and purity is telling the Lord that his present commitment is and has been that he gives charitably to those who have less than does he and that if he discovers that he has stolen from someone he pays back in extreme generosity in order to make the wrong right.

Now keep in mind that he is saying this to Jesus!  If it were a matter of irony that he bears his name, we could make the argument that he is at best exaggerating the truth if not outright lying about his conduct.  That might work with some.  But remember that we acknowledge at every liturgy that Jesus, along with the Father and the Holy Spirit, is the one “to whom all hearts are known and from whom no secrets are hid.”  If Zacchaeus were trying to fool Jesus, Jesus would have known it, and Zacchaeus would not have gotten away with it.

And how does Jesus respond?  “Today salvation has come even to this house!”  Salvation is found there because Jesus is there in that place.  He came not to call Zacchaeus to repentance in order to bestow salvation.  Neither did he come because Zacchaeus had shown himself to be pure and righteous and worthy of a reward.  Jesus stands in that house to show that Jesus loves this Tax Collector, and all tax collectors, and all people.  But more importantly Jesus longs for those who witness this moment to take a second look at Zacchaeus.

Here my friends we find the true intent and purpose for this Gospel being handed down to us.  Jesus is challenging us to look beyond the cover.  The crowds in the disciples’ generation only looked at the outside of this short man who climbed a tree to see Jesus.  Had they known that he was there to see and hear Jesus, they would have wondered why he had any interest in hearing Jesus speak.  They thought there was nothing desirable or redeemable in the man.

God forgive us, how many Zacchaeuses are there in the world about us?  How often do we only look at the surface and perceive that nothing of quality is to be found?  Today Jesus calls us to look deeper than the surface and come to know the depth of character in the persons whose paths we cross.  We might just be surprised at what we find beyond the surface.  But we will never know unless we look, trusting in Jesus’ direction.

All those not present in Zacchaeus’ house, in other words most of Jericho, missed out on knowing the true character of the man they knew only as a tax collector and whom they assumed to be a thief and a crook, a man beyond hope or desire.  Jesus pulled a select few inwards and invited them to see that there was far more to the man.  From that day on hopefully these ones continued to reveal this true character in all of its beauty to others.

What are we missing?  What is Jesus begging for us to see and behold in Zacchaeus in our midst and in our generation, in our city and our neighborhood?  What can we see that we might show others a vision that exceeds the limits of our sight; a vision in which Jesus is at work in us showing us worth and value, beauty and faith, in the very last places and persons among whom we would expect to find these good things.  May Jesus open and transform our eyes that they might be like his own eyes that saw Zacchaeus hidden in the tree and called him to come forth and be known, not as the man whom others thought he was, but rather as the man that Jesus knows and loves beyond measure.

Father

Timothy

Alleman

Homily C16 Proper 25

Homily for

The 23rd Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 25 - Time of the Church

Sunday 23 October 2016

The Episcopal Church of the Holy Cross

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

A Parish of the Diocese of Bethlehem and The Episcopal Church

Readings:

http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearC_RCL/Pentecost/CProp25_RCL.html

This Sunday's gospel is one that we know very well.  We are presented with two characters who are radically different from one another; a Pharisee and a Tax Collector.

There are aspects of this story that we know well.  We know the Pharisee was a religious leader of high rank, as were all the Pharisees.  This was an expert in the Law and the faith of the people of God.  He had been a student of the Law since his childhood, and now as an adult he was a teacher of other teachers who opened the Scriptures Sabbath after Sabbath and preached to the people the ways of God.

And then there is that tax collector.  Jesus has far more to say in the Gospel about Pharisees than tax collectors.  And when we find Jesus speaking of tax collectors, it is almost always in conversation with the Pharisees when he is scolding them for not practicing what they preach.  So let’s take a closer look at these tax collectors.  The best and most well known of them for us to consider is Matthew, also called Levi, the tax collector turned apostle and evangelist, one of the original bishops from the Day of Pentecost when through the outpouring of the Holy Spirits the 11 faithful disciples, along with Matthias, chosen successor to Judas, became the overseers of the proclamation of the Gospel.

In weeks past you have heard me speak of the Samaritans.  You may recall that I reminded you of the fact that these folks were seen by the Jews as classless trash who were good for nothing and didn’t know any better.  By their birth and from their youth nothing good could be expected of them not because they had chosen the way of ignorance but simply because they knew nothing else.  They were a lost cause from the very start.

So why is it then that I remind you of this now in this moment where there is no mention of the Samaritans, not even the most insignificant reference imaginable?  The portion of the Gospel that is before us on this Sunday does nothing to answer that question.  There are other portions of the Gospel, however, that clearly answer the question.  If we take a serious look at the Gospel and take in what is said of the likes of Matthew, we find that these tax collectors were neither Samaritans nor Gentiles.  They were agents of the occupying Roman government in Palestine who built up the coffers of Caesar, Emperor of Rome, but they were not Romans.  Matthew and his tax collector colleagues in Palestine were in fact Jews.

And what did Jews of their day think of other Jews who like Matthew had enlisted with the Romans and taken on the role of tax collectors?  These ones were viewed as traitors.  They were viewed as ones who should know better, as persons who having been raised in the knowledge of truth, had turned their back on truth and opted for ignorance.  The only conclusion that can be observed then is that Matthew and his colleagues were in the Jewish mind of the day and generation "of lesser value than a Samaritan."

When we remember this, it is rather shocking that we find in this Gospel a Pharisee and a tax collector standing side by side anywhere.  The fact that this encounter occurs within the Temple, the very representation of heaven on earth, only enhances that shock.

I find all of this exciting to observe, largely to the fact that in addition to being a student of religion, I have also studied sociology and psychology, the behaviors of groups and individuals.  I actually minored in Sociology in college.  I even flirted with the thoughts of doing a double major in Religion and Sociology until I saw that if I did that I would have to take Statistics.  And here's my confession for the week: math tends to scare me, and tends to be something I avoid if possible.  I'd rather just stick to observing behavior than crunch numbers.

But this Gospel is not placed before us in order that we might observe social behaviors.  We are not called to hear this and judge the Pharisee and his exultation of himself.  Neither are we called to praise the tax collector for his humility.  But if we are not called to do either, then what is it that we are called to do?  For what purpose do we receive this teaching of Jesus?

This, my friends, is a calling to self-examination.  Observing the persons of a generation long removed from us will only distract us from that task of examining ourselves.  And our distraction will only grow larger if in the light of this Gospel we observe those in our own generation whom we brand as "Pharisees in our midst" who boast in themselves as well as those who model true humility, even praiseworthy humility, in the world today.  I say that because if we are honest we believe we cannot relate to either of these categories.  We take pride in not being like the proud and haughty ones in our own generation, and we cringe at the thought of being associated with the humble.  We believe ourselves to be somewhere in the middle.

But are we truly in the middle?  This question demands that we honestly examine ourselves, our words and our conduct.  This is not an easy task, especially for us who are inside the Church.  If we are honest with ourselves, most of us who are Christians can relate far more to the Pharisee than the Tax Collector.  Many of us loose sight of this because we get so caught up in our denominational identity and forget the wider experience of Christian religion that goes beyond denominational identity.  This is evident in how we respond to the question of "what is our religion?"  I must admit that I who have beat this dead horse many times have responded just as many times by saying "I am Episcopalian" when asked about my religion.  And I'll even admit to being a Lutheran before that, especially when it centers around priestly ordination, as it was by the Lutherans that I was ordained a priest.

But here is what I don’t focus on like I should.  I was born into the Christian faith.  I was born on a Sunday evening and the following Sunday, I was in Church.  In the first year of my life I was baptized a child of God, clothed in Christ and marked with the cross.  From my infancy my identity has been that of a Christian!  The fact that I became a Lutheran as a teenager and an Episcopalian as an adult and a priest of the Church Catholic did not undo this identity, nor did it create this Christian identity.  I have known nothing else than to be a Christian.  So who can I relate with more; the Pharisee who knew nothing else or the tax collector who "sold out," who should have known better?

I am by no means unique in this.  Yes we have a number of "cradle Episcopalians" in our parish family.  We also have some who have been some other type of Christian in past chapters of life.  But I am hard pressed to think of someone in our midst who is not a "cradle Christian."  This identity is deeply entrenched in us, both as individuals and as a parish.  So who can we all relate with more; the Pharisee or the tax collector?

We might not like the answer, but we know what it is!  We are more like the Pharisee.  How many times have we sat back and thought either silently or out loud, "Thank God I am not like that one" as we observe someone doing or being something we find unacceptable.  And if we believe that this one ought to know better, how much greater is our judgment.

I am by the way just as guilty as this.  I know persons who have walked away from their Christian identity, some opting for no faith, and some choosing to embrace a new faith and a new identity apart from Christ and the Gospel.  At my best I don’t understand.  At my worst I think in judgment that they ought to know better.  And on this also I don’t believe that I am alone.

But there is something else that we with our tendencies to be more like the Pharisee need to watch.  Even more subtly, how many times do we list those things that are the sources of our pride?  Sometimes we do so for the sake of boasting in the face of others.  We want people to know how caring we are, how faithful we are, how good we are.  And sometimes we are even so bold (think NEPA meaning of this word by the way and not the Standard English dictionary definition) as to try to provide this insight to God as if God doesn’t know anything we have to share about ourselves.

There is a great danger in all of this.  Years ago I remember a colleague sharing her experience of two different seminary communities.  One talked at great length about the intent and desire to be community.  One said nothing whatsoever about community.  One actually lived out this desire and intent.  One failed miserably.  Can you guess which one succeeded and which one failed?  The one who pulled it off was the one who not once talked about it.  They didn’t need to talk the talk.  They simply walked the walk.  But the one who talked about it all the time could never quite figure out how to actually do what they said they wished to do.

The self-examination that we are called to engage thus asks us “are we walking the walk?”  The things we say about ourselves; is this our reality, or are we trying to convince others around us, including God, that we are something we know we should be, but have never quite figured out how to put into practice that thing we say we are.  We can fool others, but always remember we will never fool God.

But the amazing thing is we don’t need to even try to fool God.  Our God loves the Pharisee and the Tax Collector.  God longs for us to examine our hearts and to see those places where we have the pride of a Pharisee and seek for a healing and transformation that can only be accomplished by God.  If we try to fix ourselves we will fail every time, and every time we fail we will fall into the temptation to think that it isn’t us but everyone else who is wrong.  But if we trust our God to heal us and transform us, no matter how hard or even humiliating this might be, God will accomplish a miraculous work in us that makes us stronger and more alive.  Today, therefore, my friends, let us with all our hearts, minds, and strengths, examine ourselves and humble ourselves, trusting in God’s transformative mercy.

Father

Timothy

Alleman