On Being Saved
Pentecost 21, Proper 26
October 30, 2022
Fr. Tim Nunez
It’s a bit of a cliche, but it has happened to me many times and I suspect it has happened to you. A well-meaning Christian will approach me, often a bit too close, and ask, “Have you been saved?” My answer is yes, I’m a baptized, believing Christian. For a long time I thought of that as a yes or no question about my faith in Jesus, and since we are saved by grace through faith, I get to go to heaven. But it’s not that simple. Salvation in Jesus also means transformation, an ongoing process of becoming more and more like him.
On our trip to Israel last June, an optional stop on our itinerary was Jericho. I wanted to see Jericho very badly for several reasons. First, it is the lowest city in the world, by that I mean it is 864 feet below sea level. It is also one of, if not the, oldest cities in the world to be still active. Its biblical history goes all the way back to the exodus, and of course Joshua when the walls came tumbling down.
And I’ve always been quite taken with this story of Zacchaeus and his encounter with Jesus. Luke tells us that Zacchaeus was a tax collector, and we’ve been seeing a lot of tax collectors over the last few weeks in our gospel passages. We quickly remember that they were traitorous consorts with the enemy Romans, dealing and idolatrous Roman coins, and professional extortionists of their own people, who had no recourse to seek justice against them.
So here we have Zacchaeus, who is not only a tax collector but also short in stature. To see Jesus he climbs up into a sycamore fig tree. The sycamore fig is not a fig that people eat. It was used as livestock feed, but even then they had to split its husk so that a tiny spider could lay eggs in it to soften the fruit up and make it edible even for goats and sheep. All of this happened in Jericho.
I made a point to ask our tour guide if we could go to Jericho. Actually, I asked Deacon John and he asked our tour guide to make sure we went there. And so we did! You may have seen the pictures of some of us riding camels, and kissing camels. That was in Jericho.
A real highlight was when we came into Jericho and our guide pointed out an enormous sycamore fig tree. It was not thought to be the very tree Zacchaeus climbed, but nevertheless we got to see one in Jericho.
Take it all together, what we find in this account is a socially lowest of the low, who also happens to be physically low, climbing a trash fruit tree in the lowest city in the world. You cannot get any lower than Zacchaeus. Yet we also see in him a spark, a ray of hope because deep down he wants to see Jesus. Why? As a spectacle? We don’t know, but apparently that doesn’t matter in his case.
That’s the first lesson to draw from this encounter. Zacchaeus is the lost coin, the lost sheep. He is the lost prodigal son. Jesus knew him. Jesus called him. But note the call isn’t “follow me” at first, like it is with his disciples and so many others. This time the call is “I am staying with you.”
Jesus knew him. Jesus knows you, right where you are, with all your troubles, all your sorrows, all your failures and weaknesses. He loves you where you are, as you are. He will not leave you there, hanging in the tree hoping for some glimpse of a better life, a better way, a better you. He’s always calling us, always calling us down from the futile scrambles up the tree that we make. Come down, I am staying with you. Jesus told, tells, his disciples to “abide in me.” He’s ready to make his home in our hearts and minds.
All who saw it began to grumble because he was a notorious sinner. But remember what Jesus has been teaching right along, there is joy, joy, at the reconciliation of a sinner with God, with Jesus. The effect on Zacchaeus is obvious. He’s penitent, transformed. He will give away half his wealth to the poor. He will right any wrongs. That’s true repentance. His path has fundamentally changed.
Jesus says, “Salvation has come to this house.” Salvation isn’t just about getting our ticket to heaven. It’s about being transformed so that our lives are not ruled by our desires and appetites nor by our frustration and pain. Rather, we start becoming more like him, seeing our world with compassion, turning away from our internal and external provocations to sin which spiral us down into a bitter, hard shell, and turning us toward the caring hearts that Jesus forms in us.
When Jesus says, “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost,” he casts the invitation to salvation to all. We’ve been on this long journey with Jesus since chapter 9 verse 51, when Luke tells us Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem. He is now on the verge of making his ascent toward Jerusalem. It’s a strenuous hike, up 3,300 feet over about 20 miles.
But the ascent isn’t about the elevation. It’s about the spiritual rise to the Temple. Even if you are coming from one of the hills or mountains around Jerusalem, it is an ascent. Jesus will ascend to the events - his death, resurrection and ascension to the Father, that will seal salvation for all who follow him in faith. Jesus is making his climb to draw the whole world to himself just as he did Zacchaeus. This account is a living example of what Paul wrote to the Romans:
For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. (Romans 6:6-8)
Amen!