"“WHO IS THIS JESUS? – THE TRANSFORMER”
Luke 4:14-21; 19:1-10
Rev. Gary Paterson
April10, 2011
So, here we are on our Lenten journey, once again asking the question, “Who is this Jesus?” … and finding there are many different answers. Today, however, we are going to focus on Jesus’ calling as a prophet, a social critic – a transformer… “He changes everything he touches; everything he touches, changes.” He is a change-agent, some even call him a revolutionary. He is committed to the Way of Compassion and Justice; the Way of Love; he is committed to the Way of God; and he will give his life for this vision.
It was so at the very beginning. Born poor; in a stable; to humble parents, not even married; shepherds are the only local people who take any notice of his arrival. He has a mother who sings “Magnificats”… you remember, “My soul magnifies the Lord… he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” Imagine hearing that “in utero” – bound to have some effect.
Sure, Mary probably also sang him lullabies, but I’ll bet even those had an edge. That prophet-transformation-change the-world stuff, it was right there at the beginning; like mother, like child. Martin Bell has written the kind of lullaby that perhaps Mary would have appreciated; it’s called “The Secret of the Stars;” listen:
Who could have dreamed that this little babyHere in the manger, crying for his momma,Who could have dreamed that this little babyWould change the course of the world.O the stars shine bright.What do they know?Is there a secret they keep?O Holy Night, the child shivers so;What fearful thought disturbs his sleep.All too soon he’ll be leaving his momma,Striding along the banks of the river,Calling to fishermen, who follow, bewildered,Changing the course of the world.Could it be the same little babyAll alone and fasting in the desert,While all about the countryside his people are starving?How can he change the world?Is this my child, surrounded by people?Walking with men who wish they’d never met him!Is this my baby? And how can they believe him?How can he change the world?Another village! Another crowd of people!High on a hill, he’s preaching like a madman.If he doesn’t stop, I swear they’re going to kill him.He can’t change the world.The time will come when he’ll ride into the city,Though all his friends say to stay out on the mountain.Riding alone. Shattering illusion.Changing the course of the world.O the stars shine bright.What do they know?Is there a secret they keep?O Holy Night, the child shivers so;What fearful thought disturbs his sleep.Hush-a-bye, go to sleep little baby,Here in the manger, safe beside your momma.Only the angels who watch as you’re sleepingKnow that you’ll change the world.And tonight the silent stars behold him;Shining their brightest to try to keep from crying.Did they guess? Or have the angels told them,The price of changing the world.Today other mommas are holding their children,Children who’ll grow up and follow where he leads them.God have mercy, and comfort all the mommasOf children who change the world.
Of course, it didn’t stop there; it never does… babies become children become grown women and men, and they change the world. Which is what Jesus decided to do somewhere around the age of thirty; after his experience of baptism, and his time of struggle and discernment in the desert. Preaching and teaching to any who would show up, who could listen. And to get a sense of what this Jesus was all about, you couldn’t do much better than listening in with Luke, as he describes Jesus’ inaugural sermon, so to speak, when he finally got back home to Nazareth, and was invited to preach at the synagogue at Friday night worship. You can just imagine the crowd talking, “Young fellow gone away, and now back again – let’s take a listen to what he’s learned, discover just what kind of a man he’s turned out to be.” It’s Jesus’ first public word, the one that sets the stage for everything that is to follow; his credo… “This is my voice; this is who I am; this is what I am about.” Luke stitched together a powerhouse of a statement, drawing upon the ancient tradition of the prophets that went before; specifically Isaiah… you remember those words:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,because God has anointed me,to preach good news to the poor.God has sent me to proclaim,release to the captive,and recover of sight to the blind;to set at liberty, those who are oppressed; `to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord..
“You want to know who Jesus is?” asks Luke. Well, you just take a listen; it’s all there.
I remember the seventies and eighties, when Luke 4:18-19 was our touchstone Scripture. Oh, I was quick to accuse others of having their selective, favourite Bible passages which could be used to proof-text almost anything; but truth was, I had my own, as well. And this was one of them. It was the time of liberation theology, and Latin America; El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua; it was black theology and the feminist movement; gay liberation and peace marches a hundred thousand people strong. Oh, we liked Luke 4:18-19 so much that Jim Strathdee put it to music, and it was our anthem… O, the Spirit of the Lord is upon me….
We were partners with Christ, knowing that without God we couldn’t (though occasionally I suspected we forgot that) and that without us, God wouldn’t. We sang South African freedom songs, “We Are Marching in the Light of God,” and when we were feeling worn out, or at least more gentle, we would go back a few centuries, and sing the music of St. Francis, “Make me a channel of your peace….” It was a time when I was captivated by the poetry of Dorothy Soelle, a radical German theologian and activist; Revolutionary Patience was the title of her book; listen to this one, “When he came” :
He needs youthat’s all there is to itwithout you he’s left hanginggoes up in dachau’s smokeis sugar and spice in the baker’s handsgets revalued in the next stockmarket crashhe’s consumed and blown awayused upwithout you.Help himthat’s what faith ishe can’t bring it abouthis kingdomcouldn’t then couldn’t later can’t nownot at any rate without youand that is his irresistible appeal.
Now I’m older, but you know what, I still believe that this is a true vision; that Jesus truly was… is, a prophet, a transformer, a change agent, and that he spoke, acted upon and embodied God’s dream for us, for the world. But I also know that there is no quick fix; no fast, direct and easy path from here to there. We’re in this for the long haul; it’s a life time’s work, and then some. I’m not going to see the acceptable year of the Lord; nor are any of you; we do our bit… and we have faith; we trust that God will keep working away at it, until… well until it comes to pass.
I also have discovered that no liberation movement is perfect; far from it. There will always be squabbles, power trips; personalities..oh, those personalities. And then sometimes, when the liberators finally got power, they themselves became the problem. I don’t know why I was surprised; Christianity has a pretty down-to-earth understanding of sin. Hey, sometimes I recognized that the problem was in me; that took some growing up.
And at the same time, I discovered that the powers that be… well, they were… powerful. Surely you’d think that the first clue would be the crucifixion of Jesus, no? Rome knew that he was a troublemaker, a problem, a transformer; a quick execution was usually all that was needed to scotch such movements. And the Romans kept it up for three centuries, persecuting Jesus’ followers, driving the church underground, literally, into the catacombs; occasionally throwing some Christians to the lions. But the powers are skilled shape-shifters; just when you think you have a handle of what they’re about, well, then you can be in for a surprise. Rome decided, for instance, to turn from violence and oppression to seduction and bribery – all of a sudden Christianity became the state religion; the church had wealth, prestige, power; we could play dress up…. And it worked, for a very long time. The church forgot about captivity and liberation; about good news for the poor.
Over the years, I have also discovered that so-called prophetic sermons could easily sound a little too self-righteous, a bit shrill, full of scold, where you walked away with a guilty feeling that you’ll never measure up, never do enough. You can leave such preaching with a heavy load of new obligations… shop, pick up the kids from daycare, cook, clean up, change the world. You learn the art of defensive listening very quickly.
All of which is why I so enjoy the story of Zaccheus. It’s prophetic all right, but in a focussed, down-to earth, one-on-one encounter with the person who is right there in front of you; the neighbour you see when you’re walking through town; the person in all his particularity. Like Zaccheus… “short of stature” says the Gospel; a little guy, who had probably been picked on most of his childhood. But for a Sunday School lesson it was perfect. It meant that the smallest kid in the class could become the centre of attention. I was one of the taller kids, which meant that I got to be the sycamore tree, standing straight and tall. Mind you, it was a challenge to hold the weight of Zaccheus, even if I hadn’t been tempted to let my arm slip just as Jesus was passing by… “Sorry teacher, the branch just broke.” Grin.
But all joking aside… you do remember the details of this character, right? Tax collector. And whatever it is you might be feeling in the April countdown with Revenue Canada, it ain’t nothin’ compared to what people felt about Zaccheus the tax collector. You see, he was collecting taxes on behalf of Rome, the occupying power in the land. He promised to give them whatever they asked… and then he’d add a cut for himself; and then, with the back-up threat of Roman legions, he was able to drag the money out of the farms and businesses and homes of his neighbours. And the story tells us that Zaccheus was “very rich.” Which meant that he did his job well; ruthlessly; greedily. If people couldn’t pay their taxes… well, you could always take their land; you could sell them into slavery. Zaccheus was the epitome of injustice…. collaborator with the enemy; oppressor of his people; lackey to Rome; unclean; sinner; shunned… but feared.
Now, at least two things happen when Jesus and Zaccheus encounter each other. First, Jesus invites himself for lunch. Sounds a bit strange perhaps, but what an honour. Jesus saw something in Zaccheus that was better than his worst deed; he saw something in Zaccheus that probably Zaccheus himself didn’t see, didn’t believe was possible to recover after all these years. “He too is a son of Abraham,” says Jesus… which is to say, made in the image of God, called by God, a member of the family, with a humanity that had to be respected. Sure people grumbled, “How is it that he is going to a guest of one who is a sinner?” Because there was no repentance; no promises made by Zaccheus… he was simply perched up in the tree to have a look-see. It was Jesus who took the first step… it was acceptance, of the person if not the deeds; it was grace, forgiveness; it was love, a love that refused to be restrained by the mores of the day, even of the religion. And I can just hear Jesus muttering to all his listeners, “Go and do likewise.” The person who crosses your path… in family, church, community, street, in every sycamore tree; the one who appears most unloveable, unacceptable… that’s the one you need to have lunch with. Call it an acted-out parable; call it justice joined with love; call it a down-to-earth way of being prophetic.
And then watch what happens … because there’s another chapter to this story. When Zaccheus experiences this kind of love, something happens to him; he’s transformed. Remember, “Jesus changes everyone he touches; every one he touches, changes.” For Zaccheus, this acceptance, this invitation, it sure beat all the scolding, cold shoulders, anger and judgment that he normally received. Probably without thinking, with Jesus’ eyes looking directly at him, Zaccheus announced, “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.” Now that’s a prophetic response if I’ve ever heard one. Would you be willing to give half of what you possess to the poor? Would I? Not so easy. And a fourfold payback for any fraud… well, that sure fulfills the legal fine print in Exodus and Leviticus. In fact, it goes way beyond; not just the letter of the law, but the spirit, and then some. Generosity; justice; wanting to return to right relationship.
I found myself imagining what it might have been like for Zaccheus. The story doesn’t tell us, but I picture him with his cheque book, or rather, bag of money, going from house to house, coming to his neighbours, and saying …what?... “I’m really sorry I ripped you off; I hope this cash can make up for it.” I wonder if would have said, “Will you forgive me?” I wonder what would have happened after that day -- would Zaccheus have continued to be a tax collector? Would he have been a “nice” tax collector? Would he have found a way to do the job but protect his neighbours from Roman greed? Would he have quit his job? Who knows; but what Jesus was clear about was “Today salvation has come to this house,” and I think he meant both parts of the action… what he did; what Zaccheus did. Salvation… it was a moment when there was good news for the poor, recovery of sight to a blind Zaccheus, a setting free those who were oppressed; it was one day closer to the acceptable year of the Lord.
You know, sometimes when I look at all that is happening in the world I get so down, so overwhelmed. There is so much mending that needs to happen; so much news for the poor is bad, not good; a lot of captivity and blindess; and it sure doesn’t feel like the acceptable year of the Lord. I end up feeling paralyzed; just wanting to go back to bed, and pulling the covers over my head. But I remember a friend sharing an African proverb, “The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.” She said, “Just do the one thing that is right there in front of you; respond to the one person who crosses your path.” When I hear the story of Zaccheus, I think, “Well, what happened here, I understand it; I know it needs a lot of grace, but it feels possible; even, perhaps do-able. The Zaccheus story is about taking one bite of the elephant.
But I don’t have to tell you this. You already know it.. and are acting upon it. Will you bear with me for a moment; or rather, work with them. Will you work with me? All those who are involved in the work of sponsoring our refugee family, Mahmoud, Salina and and Asmaa… please stand….. no, don’t sit down; please stay standing. Now, all those who are helping out with the “Dan Mangan and Friends Concert” this Saturday, as we raise funds to address Youth Homelessness; and all the others who are part of our End Homelessness Ministry… will you stand up please. And those connected with ministries with and for people living with Mental Illness, Homes to Heal, and Judy [Capes, now deceased but whose home furnishings have just recently been donated to Coast Mental Health]… let your spirit stand up. Anyone involved with the various ministries with First United; Empty Suitcase, Seniors Luncheon, or the Parent and Tot drop in – please stand up. People who have contributed to the Lenten Project, Rosa’s Medical Clinic in Guatemala City; been part of Free the Children ministry, or Safe Passage; people who are connecting with First Nations, working toward Truth and Reconciliation; all those who have been doing their best to convince the government that we don’t want a giant casino in the city – can you stand up, please? Or if you’re involved in Healing Touch, WISH, PWA, Raincity Housing … you too. And members of City Soul Choir, with your gospel songs of justice and freedom, you stand up too. Take a look around…. I see a hundred and one Zaccheus moments. I see us living out an answer to the question, “Who is this Jesus?”
Okay, please sit down; and now I invite you just to listen; a poem/song by Shirley Erena Murray:
This thread I weave, this step I dance,this stone I carve, this ball I bounce,this nail I drive, this pearl I string,this flag I wave, this note I sing.This pot I shape, this fire I light,this fence I leap, this bone I knit,this seed I nurse, this rift I mend,this child I raise, this earth I tend.This cheque I write, this march I join,this faith I state, this truth I sign,this is small part in one small place,of one heart’s beat for one great Peace.
So many ways to work for change, for one great Peace. So many ways to respond to the One who says to each one of us, “Hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.”