I’ve long enjoyed the writing of Frederick Buechner. I have a few of his books on my shelf, but one I refer to with frequency is called Peculiar Treasures: A Biblical Who’s Who. In it Buechner writes thoughtfully and provocatively about all sorts of folks we meet in scripture, all of them unique and worth our attention.
The book goes from A-Z, so the final entry in it is Zacchaeus, who, fittingly, is hanging out on the fringes, just as he’s hanging out in our sanctuary about as far from the pulpit as he can get, on the upper left of the east balcony window. There he is in the sycamore, leaning towards Jesus, but ever on the periphery. I love that I can really zoom in on these windows through these digital pictures because I can see Jesus’ expression in detail. With light in his eyes and smile on his face, Jesus is beckoning Zacchaeus to come down from his perch.
What Buechner wrote about Zacchaeus is worth hearing, so I’ll share it with you. “Zacchaeus stood barely five feet tall with his shoes off and was the least popular man in Jericho. He was head tax-collector for Rome in the district and had made such a killing out of it that he was the richest man in town as well as the shortest. When word got around that Jesus would soon be passing through, he shinnied up into a sycamore tree so he could see something more than just the backs of other people’s heads, and that’s where he was when Jesus spotted him.
“‘Zacchaeus,’ Jesus said, ‘get down out of there in a hurry. I’m spending tonight with YOU’ (Luke 19:5), whereupon all Jericho snickered up their sleeves to think he didn’t have better sense than to invite himself to the house of a man that nobody else would touch with a ten-foot pole.
“But Jesus knew what he was doing. Zacchaeus was taken so completely aback by the honor of the thing that before he had a chance to change his mind, he promised not only to turn over fifty percent of his holdings to the poor but to pay back, four to one, all the cash he’d extorted from everybody else.” (I pause here to wonder if I should remind everyone that it’s Generosity Month…so how about responding to Jesus like Zacchaeus — with radical, unabashed generosity? How does that sound?)
“Jesus was absolutely delighted. ‘Today salvation has come to this house,’ he said (Luke 19:9), and since that was his specialty after all, you assume he was right.”
Because this is the final entry in his book, Buechner continues, “Zacchaeus makes a good one to end with because in a way he can stand for all the rest. He’s a sawed-off little social disaster with a big bank account and a crooked job, but Jesus welcomes him aboard anyway, and that’s why he reminds you of all the others too.”
Buechner reviews just some of the Biblical misfits covered in his book.
“There’s Aaron whooping it up with the Golden Calf the moment his brother’s back is turned, and there’s Jacob conning everybody including his own father. There’s Jael driving a tent-peg through the head of an overnight guest….There’s Nebuchadnezzar with his taste for roasting the opposition and Paul holding the lynch mob’s coats as they go to work on Stephen. There’s Saul the paranoid, and David the stud, and those mealy-mouthed friends of Job’s who would probably have succeeded in boring him to death if Yahweh hadn’t stepped in just in the nick of time. And then there are the ones who betrayed the people who loved them best such as Absalom and poor old Peter, such as Judas even.
“Like Zacchaeus, they’re all of them peculiar as Hell, to put it quite literally, and yet you can’t help feeling that, like Zacchaeus, they’re all of them somehow treasured too. Why are they treasured? Who knows? But maybe you can say at least this about it — that they’re treasured less for who they are and for what the world has made them than for what they have it in them at their best to be because ultimately, of course, it’s not the world that made them at all. ‘All the earth is mine!’ says Yahweh, ‘and all that dwell therein,’ adds the Twenty-fourth Psalm, and in the long run, presumably, that goes for you and me too.”
I was telling my One Anothering class this week that I have a penchant for following the rules. I like fitting in and doing things the right way. There was a time that I really wrestled with the rebels — those who didn’t say or do the expected things, those who didn’t fit the mold — but the longer I’ve lived, the more I’ve come to appreciate that the Bible is filled with scoundrels and rascals, misfits and outsiders. Not one of them deserving grace, yet receiving it anyway. Of course, not even those of us rule-followers “deserve” grace. It wouldn’t be grace if we deserved it, right? The church is supposed to be the house of sinners and saints, and so this Zacchaeus story is just one more reminder of the scandalous nature of God’s love for the whole world.
Let’s draw our attention back to the window as a whole. It’s theme is another “I am” saying of Jesus. “I am the Light of the World,” Jesus proclaims in John 8. There is Jesus in the center, dressed in bright yellows and oranges, illuminating the world. This teaching happens in Jerusalem during the Festival of Tabernacles, which is a weeklong fall observance, right around this time of year, actually. It’s a harvest festival that gets its name from the temporary structures farmers would live in while completing the harvest.
Jesus is speaking on the final day of the festival, and this context really gives deeper meaning to his words. As the long summer days gave way to the darker fall days, there was a light ceremony in Jerusalem that was part of this festival. One Jewish text describing this ceremony brags that “whoever has not seen [it] has never seen a wonder in his or her life.” Four large stands held four golden bowls in the Court of Women, a place where all Jews, men and women, could gather in the Temple complex. These sixteen golden bowls had to be reached by ladders. They were filled with oil and used the worn undergarments of the priests for wicks. According to the rabbis, “When they were lit at night, all Jerusalem was illumined.” In a world without electric light, this light shining from Jerusalem’s yellow limestone walls would have been jaw-dropping.
In verse 19, John tells us Jesus is saying these things in the treasury, which is off to the side of the bustling scene. Surrounded by Jewish women and men, Jesus stands at the conclusion of this party under the sixteen burning bowls, this riot of light and sound, and there he proclaims that he is not simply the light of Jerusalem, but he’s the Light of the World! Now, that’s quite the statement.
In our window, the central image of Jesus is not only boldly lit, but also notice his hands. One is extended up towards heaven; the other down towards the earth. In John 8, Jesus is arguing with the Pharisees about what he is saying, and Jesus points out that what he says is valid because he “knows where he came from and where he is going.” Throughout this window, there is this interplay between the connection of heaven and earth meeting in Jesus, who proclaims this good news to all.
And that’s what this window is really focused on — proclamation. On the upper right, we encounter Jesus reading and interpreting the scriptures in the synagogue. While he did this with frequency in his ministry, I am reminded about how Luke’s gospel introduces Jesus’ public ministry in this fashion. Jesus is in Nazareth in his home synagogue. He stands to read scripture, proclaims it fulfilled in their hearing, and they celebrate. But then he says something the don’t like, and they run him out of town, ready to toss him off a cliff. Proclamation draws mixed reviews — as it still does today. Some love what they hear. Others are upset that what is said grates against what they think. It happens all the time — even to me! But I am reminded that it happened to Jesus too.
On the bottom left, Jesus is seated and delivering the Sermon on the Mount. Matthew describes it this way, “When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him.” As I look at this part of the window, I realize that those surrounding Jesus are those who have chosen to follow him. Look at their faces. There is a smile. There is a question. And there is protest on the left. Proclamation draws mixed reviews, particularly when you are told to do things like love your enemies and bless those who persecute you, yet this is Jesus’ way.
Moving to the right, Jesus is teaching the crowds from a boat. I notice their mixed expressions like before, but one of the most stunning things found in our windows is the wide welcome of Jesus. There are men. There are women. There’s even a baby in its mother’s arms, listening to Jesus. To all of them, Jesus teaches, with arms stretched wide and with a welcoming smile on his face.
Nestled under the arm of Jesus in the window’s center is the scene from Matthew 19, where Jesus does something very unexpected. Today, in most situations, we’re so happy children are present. This was not the case in Jesus’ day. Children were excluded from adult male society. They were powerless, vulnerable, and unwelcome. But Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” In our window, I love how Jesus is cradling a baby, how two others are leaning close, and how a little girl is running towards Jesus. There are many Sundays I feel like this when I give the Word for the Children. I treasure that our children can hear about Jesus from me. I love that there is a wide welcome for them and for all who would listen to Jesus.
I’ll close with this. Jesus proclaims, “I am the Light of the World.”
Do you know who else is the light of the world?
You are.
That’s what Jesus tells his disciples early on in the Sermon on the Mount. “You are the light of the world.” I can imagine the smiles, the confusion, the wondering, the worry when they heard that.
How do you receive the teaching of Jesus?
Like a child?
With questions?
With anger?
With humility?
Do you believe that you, too, are the light of the world?
Like Zacchaeus, you also are God’s peculiar treasure, called as you are to be something significant to those around you. God’s welcome is wide for you too, for you also are the light of the world.