Homily for the Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

The story of Zaccheus has always been a favorite of mine. When we were in school we learned a song about him. But I think that the greater appeal in my boyhood was the whole tree-climbing thing. There was a 65-acre park across the street from our house. We climbed the trees frequently, even building a ramshackle tree house in one of them.

The tree house was a place of play, escape, and imagination, which served various functions:
+a hideout when we played cops & robbers…
+a fort in the wilds when we played cowboys & Indians…and
+a place for secret ambush when we played army games.

So, this fellow Zaccheus captured my imagination as a youth, and has served me in other ways as I studied Sacred Scripture in seminary.

Unlike the characters we’ve been hearing about in the Lord’s Parables over the past few weeks:
+the Rich Man and Lazarus
+the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, 
+the Unjust Judge and the Poor Widow…

Zaccheus is a real, historical person. So, as Saint Luke relates the story to us, he presents the Lord not as teaching a lesson, as He did with the Parables, but as
+recognizing Zaccheus as he was
+commending him for his unconventional approach in meeting Christ, and
+taking the initiative in developing a soul-saving relationship.

But even the story of a historical person can be better understood when placed in a particular context. For our purposes today, the story of Zaccheus can be understood in light of the passage from the Book of Wisdom, which we have heard, and which provides our context.

This passage comes to us as a Hymn of Praise, but not so esoteric that it speaks of the other-worldly in a manner disconnected from real life. God creates the world ex nihilo, meaning “out of nothing.” In describing the entire universe as merely “a drop of morning dew,” the Author of this Book teaches that God does not need Creation, His “being” contains the fullness of creation and of perfection. So, God-plus-Creation is not a greater reality than God alone.

This passage, then, speaks of the “why” of Creation. Why did God extend “being” into nothingness in order to create the Universe, the man Zaccheus, or you and me? It is because His love is so expansive that even Heaven could not contain it. Let’s look again to two sentences located in the heart of this passage. In the first double-sentence, the Author speaks to God, saying, “… you love all things that exist and loathe nothing that you have made, for what you hated, you would not have fashioned. And how could a thing remain, unless you willed it; or be preserved, had it not been called forth by you, O Lord and lover of souls?”

There it is! There’s the “why” of Creation: God is a lover of souls. Since He is Lover as well as Creator, He extends some measure of His own love, His own goodness, His own holiness into us in creating us.

Then the Author delivers the second sentence for us: “… you rebuke offenders little by little, warn them and remind them of the sin they are committing, that they may abandon their wickedness and believe in you, O Lord.” Aware of our sin, both Original and Actual, God never forgets the Original Goodness that He placed within our souls at the moment of our conception.

So, it makes sense that Our Lord would recognize goodness in Zaccheus that no one else can see. This allows us to take a fresh look at the meeting of Jesus and Zaccheus, not entirely as a story of conversion, though that element is there, but also as a story of recognition.

We can begin with the man’s name, through which Saint Luke gives us a vital clue into his character. Saint Luke uses the Greek word “Zacchaius,” derived from the Hebrew “zakkai,” which means “innocent one.” Most often the story of Zaccheus is interpreted as a tale of transformation of a man’s life — that is — the conversion of a sinner. Upon closer examination of the story, however, we discover the underlying notion that Zaccheus is a good man who is only thought to be evil because he is a Tax Collector. His goodness as a person is affirmed by Jesus, to the dismay of his gossipy neighbors.

Mt. Z’s tree-climbing is the stuff of legend, true as it is. Zaccheus, accustomed to the hostility of his neighbors, is willing to make a fool of himself in order to get just a glimpse of Jesus as He passes by. Why? He quite possibly had heard of Jesus, who had a reputation for socializing with outcasts and riff-raff.

His search for Jesus was, then, more than mere curiosity, because goodness always seeks goodness, and recognizes it upon discovery. How did Jesus know Zaccheus’s name? We aren’t told, but it helps if you’re the Incarnate Son of God. So, in addressing him by name, Jesus affirms his innocence as well as his goodness, and in an unexpected gesture, invites Himself into Zaccheus’s home, thereby demonstrating to the the entire crowd His acceptance and affirmation of this man. 

What happens next in their conversation teaches us what Jesus already knew, and proves Zaccheus’s downright holiness to others. Some English translations of this passage distort the original Greek from which they are translated, having Zaccheus speak in the future tense: “Half my possessions I shall give to the poor…” Most Scripture scholars will agree that this is a weak translation, as I learned in seminary.

Zaccheus is not simply stating something that he intends to do in the future, if we understand his words this way, but is revealing something of his present way of acting. Therefore, listen now to Zaccheus as translated in the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, as he speaks to Jesus in the present tense: “Behold, half my possessions I give to the poor.” Not only is he not dishonest, he’s quite generous! Jews were instructed to give as much as 20% for the poor, not 50%.

And again: “… if I have extorted anything from anyone I repay it four times over.” Jewish law required paying double for this offense or oversight, not quadruple, so not only is there an absence of greed, graft or extortion, here is a man who is self-correcting and deeply conscientious. And all this takes place in the privacy of his home, so he’s not bragging for all to hear, but simply revealing the hidden truth of his character to Jesus, the Divine Judge.

Hearing this, Jesus says, “Today salvation has come to this house.” Not conversion, but salvation. We can understand in these words that Jesus who is our salvation has come to the house of a good man and acclaimed his goodness in the midst of others who had misjudged him, whether or not they can hear Him. In recognizing Zaccheus’s innocence and virtue, salvation is assured, not simply by means of their conversation, but by recognition of what has long been true in this man’s life. Fortunately for Zaccheus — and for us — God does not listen to human gossip.

This story of interaction between Jesus and Zaccheus teaches us that the proximity of Our Lord does not bring a threat to anyone, so there should be no fear of the Confessional. On the contrary, meeting God in prayer or Sacrament allows the person to be most fully himself. 

Saint Irenaeus once claimed that the glory of God is a human being fully alive. This life of fullness is available to us, but comes not from our own bidding, as witnessed in the downfall of Adam and Eve, or the attempt to reach Heaven by the building of the Tower of Babel; it comes to us as the Lord recognizes our goodness, calls us by name, comes to our house, and brings us salvation. He does this because, as we heard today, He is a Lover of Souls.