Sunday, November 13, 2016

Excluded by wealth





I got grants and loans to help my parents pay for the elite private college I went to.  But I had to earn the money for my personal expenses by working at a campus job.  In the public schools I’d attended in Indiana and Vermont, my family’s income was somewhere in the upper half of the broad tier of those of us who knew we weren’t poor, but weren’t rich, either.  Which included almost everyone I knew.   But when I got to college I grasped for the first time that there are some people who are rich.  Not rich like we are all in this country relative to peasants in the underdeveloped world, but really rich.  Like, children of middle-eastern despots or Wall Street hedge-fund managers kind of rich.   And I found being in the same world as them to be intimidating.  I was lucky, in that I was spared the humiliation of wearing a hairnet and slinging hash in the dining hall.  My job was in the library, re-shelving books.  And it’s funny to me now to think back on the embarrassment I felt wheeling my book cart past my fellow-students as if there were something shameful about being on a scholarship. 
But one Saturday evening in my sophomore year, a friend invited me to party with a friend of his in the next dorm over from mine.  This friend of a friend was someone every on our small campus recognized, because his last name was on, not one building on campus, but an entire quadrangle of science classrooms, and laboratories, and faculty offices.  And after I’d been hanging out for a while, feeling kind of awkward, I asked our host if I could play a record from his collection.  (Side note here--I’ll never forget how Bob Marley’s Babylon by Bus album sounded on his unbelievably awesome stereo).   And in his eager response to my request, I perceived something that had not occurred to me before.  Which was that he was deeply lonely and almost pitiably eager to be liked.  In that moment I saw that his privilege was an isolation cell, keeping him from ever knowing the freedom of being just an ordinary guy.  
The fellow named Zacchaeus who features in today’s Gospel lesson is not the only one in Jericho eager to see Jesus.  The crowd that lines the road through the town is so dense that a little guy like Zacchaeus can’t see over it.  The people in the crowd know who Zacchaeus is—everyone does—and if he had any friends among them, they might have moved aside a little and let him push his way through to the front.  But they all detest him, this rich tax collector, who hardly needs another privilege granted him.  So they stand, shoulder-to-shoulder, with their backs to Zacchaeus, while he jumps behind them, trying to get a glimpse of the man everyone’s talking about. 
But Zacchaeus is nothing if not resourceful.  He runs through the back alleys, to get ahead of the parade, and clambers up a sycamore tree to get an obstructed view.  And when Jesus gets there he looks up and greets Zacchaeus as if seeing an old friend.  “Hurry down from there, Zacchaeus.  I need to stay at your house tonight.”  And with touching eagerness, Zacchaeus scrambles down from his perch, and welcomes Jesus to be his guest.
Now where the point in the story where we learn that Zacchaeus is driven to try to see Jesus by something more than idle curiosity.  And maybe this is only just dawning on Zacchaeus, too.  But when Jesus recognizes him and calls him down out of the sycamore tree, and tells him he is worthy to take Jesus under his roof and be his host, Zacchaeus suddenly understands what he was really looking for— to put things right in his life.  He sees what he has to do to be restored to wholeness, and he finds the resolve to do it.  “I will give half my possessions to the poor, Lord, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay it back four times over.” 
Now Jesus confirms that Zacchaeus has got it right.  He says it there, in the street of Jericho, in front of the whole crowd, so everyone can understand, that no matter what kind of person Zacchaeus has been in the past, no matter how his wealth, and his manner of getting it, have alienated him from them, today Zacchaeus belongs again to the community.  He is once again truly what he has always been in his essence, a member of the family of Abraham.   Because today he sets out on a new path, the path that Jesus call everyone to follow, no matter their history, or station in life, the path of integrity, and generosity, and compassion.         
This is the story of the call of a disciple, the final such story in the Gospel of Luke, and Luke’s is the only Gospel that includes it.  Mark and Matthew tell of a different encounter that Jesus had in Jericho, which also turned into a call to discipleship.  And Luke tells that story, too, right before the one about Zacchaeus.  It is the story of a fellow who also wants to see Jesus but can’t, not because he is short, but because he is blind.  Like Zacchaeus, he is marginalized, kept at the back of the crowd because he cannot see.  But he cries out “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” and the more those in front of him tell him to shut up, the more he shouts it out.  And as with Zacchaeus, Jesus stops, for the one that others tried to exclude; he asks the blind man “What do you want me to do for you?” and he asks to receive his sight.  Jesus tells that his faith has saved him, and immediately he is able to see, and goes after Jesus, praising God.
In one sense the rich tax collector could not be more different from the blind beggar by the roadside.  But by adding in the Zacchaeus story, Luke sets up a parallel which seems to suggest that they are really much the same.   They share the same determination to make a connection with Jesus in spite of the disapproval of the crowd.  In both cases, Jesus takes notice of them, and initiates a conversation.  In both cases, the result is healing and transformation.  And yet the differences are also significant.  The beggar asks for and receives a gift from Jesus, the physical restoration of his sight.   While for Zacchaeus the restoration is social and moral, and it begins with giving Jesus what he asked for—the hospitality of his house.  The one man goes off to follow Jesus, on the final miles of the journey to Jerusalem, but Zacchaeus is to stay put and set things right with the folks in Jericho.  
It might help us understand what Luke was trying to say here if we consider that this is not the only place in his gospel where wealth is a wedge dividing people from each other—think of the rich man who feasts while Lazarus lies starves at his gate, or the younger brother who squanders his inheritance, and is too ashamed to go home.  The strange parable of the dishonest steward is a story, only found in Luke, in which ill-gotten wealth, like that of Zacchaeus, becomes a means of reconciliation.  All of which suggests that Luke was wrestling with a problem that wasn’t much of an issue for Matthew and Mark, namely how to bring people of unequal economic status together in the same community. 
Luke’s says nothing to soften the warnings we hear in the other Gospels against making an idol of wealth.  And, if anything, he makes an even stronger case for what modern theologians have called God’s “preferential option for the poor.”  But when Jesus calls Zacchaeus to come down from his high place, and join the rest of us, he adds nuance to this picture, a nuance sometimes missing from our contemporary debates about inequality.  We see a growing awareness nowadays of how destructive our grossly unequal distribution of wealth is to the poor, and even to the endangered middle-class, how it is corrupting our public institutions, and eroding social solidarity.   But the gospel reminds that it hurts the rich, too, who in their own way are excluded from the unity God wants us to share.  Like people marginalized by disability or poverty, or ethnic or sexual prejudice, they need a way to be reconciled and restored to communion.  They are called to a path of discipleship.  And the example of Zacchaeus provides it, a path that, like the struggle of the oppressed for liberation, requires courage and sacrifice.  It begins with redistribution and reparations.

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About Me

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Petaluma, California, United States
I am a priest in the Episcopal Church, and have been (among other things) an organic farmer and gardener, and a Zen monk. I have a lifelong interest in social and spiritual renewal on the basis of contemplative discipline, creative nonviolence, and ecological practice. In recent years my work has focused intensely on the responsibility of pastoral ministry in the humanistic, evangelical, and catholic branch of Christianity known as Anglicanism. I'm married with a daughter, and have three brothers and two parents.