For all the saints

As the letter to the Ephesians opens, Paul waxes poetic about the glorious hope and promise for those called to the faith. He evokes this glorious, mysterious body of people – ‘the saints.’ Paul is talking specifically of those who are called to faith in Christ – and that is all well and good – but the notion that a saint is just a dead holy person, or that sainthood is reserved for those who suffer because they decided to follow Jesus is a sadly limited perspective. If we keep our eyes on Jesus, we’ll see saints in the most unlikely places.

A trip to town – Jericho, to be precise – generates some excitement. A ‘wee little man’ got himself a bird’s eye view – who knows why; he was a rich tax collector; couldn’t he just force his way to the front? He’s not acting like an entitled, merciless, tax-collector. He’s not able to see past the crowd, so up, up he goes.

Curiosity drives his little adventure in tree-climbing, and Jesus rewards that curiosity: “…hurry and come down, I must stay at your house today!”

Now – there is nothing in the text that suggests Jesus was looking for this tax collector to turn suddenly generous – but it turns out he wants to be generous. Publicly generous. And there’s nothing to suggest that Zacchaeus was having a crisis of conscience. It seems that he is working pretty hard to let the community knows what he’s really like. Everyone thinks they know what the tax-collector is like…even now. And yet, here is this Zacchaeus – eager to see Jesus…eager to tell ‘the world’ that he’s not like any tax collector they’ve ever met.

There’s no reason for any of this to have happened…except that Jesus came to town and Jesus has a story tell about the ‘riches of his glorious inheritance.’

Zacchaeus’ story is often turned into a sweet morality tale that presumes Jesus’ presence is all it takes to turn the tax-collector’s life around. It’s what we think the kingdom of God is like; a ‘lost-and-found’ system for those whom God prefers, with Jesus responsible for the sorting. But I don’t think that is what happens in this story.

Jesus doesn’t make any fuss about who (or what) Zacchaeus is – the grumbling crowds do that. Zacchaeus is eager to see Jesus – tree-climbing eager. And he is happy to welcome Jesus to his home. Zacchaeus sounds like a genuine and hospitable person - Jesus knows this to be true too.

The ‘salvation’ that comes to the house of Zacchaeus is not the gift of Jesus. Jesus doesn’t have much to do at all in this story. He calls Zacchaeus by name and he enjoys Zacchaeus’ hospitality. Salvation comes from Zacchaeus’ own words- his urgent honesty in the face of his neighbours grumbling suspicions. In response to their assumptions, he says “Look, 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.”

Jesus doesn’t ask him to do that. The compassionate humanity of this child of Abraham moves him to quiet the noise of his suspicious townsfolk, and set the record straight; Zacchaeus himself assures them that their assessment is wrong.

And in the uttering of the truth, the dismissing of rumour, in the promise of justice and equity – there is salvation.

Paul urges the saints in Ephesus to look to Jesus, “so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power.”

It is appropriate that we should look to Jesus, but when I do, I see folks like Zacchaeus too. People whom the world has cast as villains, who, it turns out, can also live out the things that Jesus calls us to strive for. This ‘child of Abraham’ (as Jesus reminds us) is entitled to that glorious inheritance too.

I’m tempted to blame Paul for what Christianity has occasionally become – a pursuit of perfection; the idolization of the glorious, heavenly future. Christians have been like that; building cathedrals and empires and the hope of something reserved only for the best and the brightest. But that’s not what Christianity is.

Christianity is not the pursuit of holy perfection – Christianity is about following Jesus…to the home of the tax collector – the person everyone despises. Christianity is listening with Jesus while Zacchaeus tells us who he is and what he does. Christianity is finding truth and beauty among the ordinary saints of this world, who have been looking for Jesus – waiting for Jesus – welcoming Jesus all along.