Gosh, it’s been a while. I recently served three terms on a grand jury. That was quite an experience, but it took all my time! So, I’m back. Here’s the latest. Also as a bonus I’ll post our parishes rendition of the Lorica (Breastplate of St. Patrick in a subsequent post.
https://youtu.be/SqBwdz5KTK8
I hate daylight savings time. One would have to search high and low to find a more absurd and universal way of disturbing everyone’s life. It is especially absurd in subarctic latitudes such as our own where the sun shines 20 hours in the summer and 4 hours in the winter.
Reminds of that trial they were having in Utgiavik, (Barrow). The lawyer looked at the defendant and said, “So, where were YOU on the night of November through March?!”
Then again, the Good Lord seems to make a habit of bringing blessings out of absurdity. Perhaps it is our extreme daylight shifts that make us more receptive to what the Gospel has to say about moving from darkness into light, especially when we understand it as moving from the darkness of sin into the light of grace.
Take a good look at the whole of John’s gospel and you will see how the themes of darkness and light are everywhere. Today’s story about the man born blind is one such passage. It’s of special note that the man is not named. This is a common literary device used in scripture. The reader is invited to place themselves in the role of the unnamed character.
In ancient Palestine, blindness was seen as a curse resulting from sin, either by oneself or one’s near ancestor. That is why the man was held in contempt by the elders and considered steeped in sin from his birth.
In a way, each of us is very much like the blind man. We were all subject to the effects of original sin and the curse which came with that, which is death. But thanks be to God that Christ redeemed us by paying the penalty for our sin by his own death on the Cross. In baptism, we enter into the light of grace won for us in the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus.
The final irony of the story is that the elders who think they are the ones who are in the light, show by their obstinance that they really are not. They see Jesus as a threat to the status quo and to their power base. In rejecting Christ, they reject the light.
Christ has said that we are the light of the world. This Laetare Sunday, let us shine with the light and the joy of the gospel to all those we will meet this week.
Hey, Church fans! Sorry for the long break. Two things at play. First, in the “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” category, Microsoft in their wisdom has decided to take a very simple process of trimming a video and make it exceedingly difficult and time consuming. Second, I have been pretty busy on Sundays between Masses when these things usually get done.
That said, I’m not preaching this weekend, but here is my column for the week. You can always get them on the parish website: https://www.st.patsak.org or our parish Facebook page: stpatsak .
Primed and Ready.
When I was Director of Vocations for the Archdiocese, I was always fascinated by the story of the call of the first disciples as depicted in the second part of today’s gospel reading. On the one hand, you have to admire the faith of the first disciples leaving everything to follow Jesus. At the same time, it does seem a little quick. In the real world, successful business owners like Peter, Andrew, James, and John do not simply just get up and leave everything, no matter how attractive or compelling this Jesus was. Also, we can read of several others (the rich young man, for example) who received the same invitation as they did and yet did NOT leave everything to follow him. There has to be more to the story.
Our insight comes from the Gospel of John (1:35). Here we see that Peter, James, John and Andrew were not just quietly going about their business before Jesus showed up in their lives. Rather, reading John it becomes clear that they were very active in their faith. They were expecting the Messiah and were anticipating his manifestation. They were waiting for him.
Their faith made them ready. So when Jesus does show up, they could respond in faith. I suspect that they had already said “yes” in their hearts. Only this interior disposition would make possible such a whole—hearted response.
The lesson for us is clear. We all want to be like Peter, James, John and Andrew. The key is to prepare ourselves interiorly so that when, through the Holy Spirit, Christ does call us to some work for the Church, either big or small, we can respond with all our heart, soul, and strength. Daily prayer is an essential element of this spirituality of vigilance. Only then can we “await the joyful hope and the coming of our Savior Jesus Christ.”
Welcome Fr. Bill Hanrahan and Fr. Scott Garrett! Fr. Bill will be covering for me while I am out of town getting a little post-Christmas R&R. Fr. Scott will be sharing with us how we can support his mission to bring the gospel to the far western reaches of the Archdiocese. See you in February!
[The deacon was preaching this week, so no vid. Here are my thoughts on this week’s gospel. I’ll be in Girdwood at Our Lady of the Snows this evening for the 6:00 Mass if you are in the neighborhood.]
If there is any time in society when we needed strong dads, it is now. Of course, it was not all that different in the days of Jesus either. God knew the times and he knew the situation into which the Word would be made flesh. He knew that Jesus would need a strong dad. He found such a dad in Joseph.
We don’t know much about Joseph’s personality from the scriptures, but we can learn a lot about him from his actions.
I’ve often preached that “Life is messy, and God is faithful.” Nowhere is this more true than how Jesus came into the world. It could have been neat and tidy. He could have waited until after Mary and Joseph were married. But he didn’t. He showed up early. That was messy! The precept of the law that is often referred to in this situation is Deuteronomy 22:16-22. Although it is unclear if or how this could be enforced, this precept says that the woman was to be dragged before her father’s house and stoned to death. Regardless, we know that Joseph was kind because he did not wish to expose her to shame.
But like dreams of Joseph the Patriarch, the dream of Joseph assures him that this is the Lord’s doing, that God’s plan is unfolding in his midst, and he has an essential part to play in that plan. He acts in faith. There is a Yiddish expression that says, “Man makes plans…God laughs!” It was certainly true for Joseph, and it is true for each of us. How many times have we thought we had it all figured out only to have our plans change in ways that we could not imagine. Often it is only in looking back in reflection that we see how the hand of God was guiding not to where we wanted to be, but rather to where we needed to be.
We need the faith of Joseph in our world today. This is the faith that prayerfully perceives the plan of God unfolding in our lives and realizes that we each have a part to play in that plan. I want that kind of faith. I want the faith of Joseph.
Hey, it’s Gaudete Sunday, where we take a break from the penance of the season and put on the ROSE (not pink) vestments.
It reminds me of that fellow who was chatting with his neighbor. He was saying that he was worried that he was getting forgetful, so he was taking a memory course.
“That’s very interesting,” his friend says, “What kind of course is it?”
“It’s associative,” he replies. “If I want to remember something I associate it with something else. That way I don’t forget it.”
“That’s very interesting,” his neighbor says, “What’s the course called?”
He stops for a moment and says, “I knew you were going to ask me that. Hold on, it’s like a flower, long stem, thorns, and a bud on the end.”
“You mean a rose?”
“Yeah…hey, Rose! What’s the name of that course I’m taking?”
You laugh, but I’ve got my 40th high school class reunion coming up this summer…right in the middle of fishing season!
But reunions are a great way to get reconnected with old classmates.
How many times has this happened to you? It’s a few years out of school, and you run into someone from high school. You recognize each other. But the conversation goes like this…
“So…it’s great to see you! How are you doing? Yeah, I’m great. Are you living around here? Great….great…yeah, me too….yeah, great.
And you keep stalling because you just can’t remember their name!!!
It looks like John the Baptist is having a senior moment . In Chapter 3, at the Baptism of Jesus, there is the voice from the cloud that said, “This is my beloved Son…” Now, here in Chapter 11, he doesn’t even seem to know who Jesus is. “Are you ‘he who is to come?’” What’s up with that?
Our clue, of course, is in Jesus’ reply to John’s messengers. The blind regaining their sight, the lame walking, lepers being cleansed, the deaf hearing, the dead being raised, the poor having the good news proclaimed to them…all these are definitive signs of the Messiah. Jesus could simply answer them, “Yep, I’m the guy.” Instead, he lets his actions do the talking.
Just this past week I got a good lesson in the old adage: “People will seldom remember what you say, but they will never forget what you did and how you made them feel.” So it was with Jesus. So it should be for us.
In the second part of today’s gospel passage there is a line that just leaps out at me, “…among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
Sometimes we might feel like we are the least in the Kingdom. It amazes me that Jesus would say that even at times like that, folks like us are greater than John the Baptist was at that time.
Still, it makes sense when you think about it for awhile. The Church firmly believes that all old testament prophecies were fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ. John was the last and greatest prophet of the old covenant. He even preached its fulfillment in the person of Jesus and got to see Jesus with his own eyes. Even so, the new covenant of grace is of such a higher order that even the least of those of us who are baptized into Christ would be considered greater than John the Baptist. Mind blown!
Gaudete Sunday is a day to rejoice. John saw the fulfillment of his hope in the person of Jesus and he leapt in the womb for joy. Advent calls us to rejoice that the fulfillment of our hope is near as we await the coming of the Lord in glory at the end of the age.
John the Baptist just fascinates the heck out of me. He is at once terrifying and compelling. Like that scene in the movie you just don’t want to see, yet you cannot look away, even as you squish yourself deeper and deeper into your see and cover your eyes. Why is this so?
Let’s put him into context. John was the last and the greatest of the prophets. To understand him, it’s important to understand what prophets were all about. First of all, it’s important to remember that while prophets prophesied, their primary vocation was not to tell the future. Rather, they were seen literally as the mouthpiece of God. God spoke through them. The kings and rulers of Israel were anointed by God through the prophets. (See 1Samuel 16 , 1-13.) The prosperity of the kingdom depended on fidelity to the Covenant. Therefore, eccentric as prophets were, they had complete access to the halls of power. The primary role was to be the conscience of the nation, the voice of God calling the leaders and the people to fidelity to the Lord.
Sometimes the leaders of the people were not faithful. At this point the prophets would chastise the leaders to amend their ways or, they prophesied, God’s people would face dire punishments. These punishments were imposed so that the leaders would reform their lives and society and return to the Lord. When they did, the prophets would prophesy great benefits for the people and the return of a true, just, and righteous king. As much as the leaders and the people may or may not have wanted to hear what the prophet had to say, their faith in God compelled them to listen to what God was saying through him.
Now let’s fast forward to the setting of today’s gospel passage.
It was a tough time for the Jews in the days of Jesus. Palestine had been under Roman occupation for several generations. Now the people were once again looking forward to deliverance, and the coming of a new Messiah who would establish the Kingdom of Israel once again.
Enter John the Baptist.
As the last and greatest prophet, John is doing what prophets do. He is announcing the coming of the ultimate Messiah, exhorting the nation to fidelity to the Lord. Thus, he urges the people to get their lives in order in preparation for his coming, especially the religious leaders – “to make straight the way of the Lord.”
John’s message to them is a good message for us this Advent. What are some of the ways we can “prepare the way of the Lord” in our homes and our hearts. We do so in two ways, practically and spiritually.
Practically, I always advocate the “Advent Purge.” Get rid of all the physical clutter in your dwelling. Are there good coats you have not used in a year or two? Donate them to the warm clothing drive. Are there things that have been taking up space in your garage for years? Give them away or get rid of them! At the very least, clean out the junk drawer in the kitchen!
Next, get rid of all the spiritual clutter in your life. Start first with a good confession. We have several confessors coming the third week of Advent who have no idea who you are. What a great opportunity to avail yourself of the sacrament.
After that, take a good inventory of your time. Are there things that are stealing your time so that you don’t have time as a family or as an individual to pray? If so, it’s time to make adjustments, no excuses.
Make no mistake, the Lord is coming again in glory, maybe even before Christmas. The time is short. We need to be ready. Now is a good time for a good practical and spiritual inventory. Let us prepare our parish, our homes and our hearts so that Christ may find us ready to welcome him when he comes.
Greetings, Superfriends! This week we celebrate the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. That’s a pretty exalted title, but one that is well deserved. What does it mean to acknowledge that Christ has dominion over us, and especially our hearts? How does the Church show us that the Kingdom of God is quintessentially different from any earthly kingdom or authority? Each homily was a bit different this week, but the essentials are below. The video is from the 5:00 Vigil Mass.
Thy Kingdom Come – Vid from the 5:00 Vigil Mass
[The King Spud Joke.]
It is a very perplexing sort of juxtaposition. On the one hand we are celebrating the Solemnity of Our Lord Christ the King of the Universe. On the other hand, we have this gospel reading from Luke 23:35-43, where Jesus is hanging on the Cross and the good thief asks him to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. Jesus’ answer is “This day you will be with me in paradise.”
There’s a lot to unpack here.
First of all, what does it mean to acknowledge Christ as King? This is difficult for us Americans because we got rid of our monarchy 246 years ago. It helps to remember that a monarch had dominion. This means he had authority over the land and everything and everyone on it. But he did not own it. It was given to him by God to be placed under his care. At his death a king would be judged on how the land and the people prospered materially, culturally and morally under his care. He was a steward, not an owner.
This feast was established relatively recently by Pope Pius XI in 1925. He did so to emphasize that, in the face of the rising secularism of our day, it is Christ who is sovereign over all creation, including every human person. The feast also has an eschatological dimension. At the end of the age, the Kingdom will be established in fullness and Christ shall reign supreme. This is why it is celebrated on the last day of Ordinary Time, on the threshold of Advent, when we contemplate the second coming of Christ in glory.
Second, dying a brutal death by an incredibly cruel method of execution does not seem to be the way to establish the Kingdom. As we will see in May when Charles III is crowned King of England, it is usually done with great pomp and circumstance and lots of fancy clothes and shiny things. What was it about Jesus that allowed the thief on his right to see who Jesus really was, even in the midst of his own suffering? That is a faith that looks into eternity. THAT’S the kind of faith that I want!
Third, Jesus’ answer to the thief lets us know that the Kingdom is not just some distant, future reality. It is something that we can experience “today.” This is cause for reflection. There is an immediacy to the Kingdom, its benefits, its responsibilities, and our role in helping it unfold in the present day.
One thing is obvious. The Kingdom of God is very different from any kingdom on this earth. It bears none of the trappings of this world and thus transcends the vagaries of this world. So much so that even a dying, repentant thief could recognize the King of the Universe as he hung upon the Cross.
What’s the key? Quite simply, the Kingdom of God is not made of bricks or stone or pomp or circumstance or lots of shiny things. It is made up of relationships. Relationships with God and with one another.
Relationships are not rocket science. If you want a relationship to grow, you give it two things.
1. Time, and
2. Attention
If you want your relations with Christ to grow,
You give it time and attention
Once again, I say, “If you cannot find ten minutes a day for private prayer with Our Lord, your life is out of control and you need to make adjustments…no excuses.”
If you want your relationship with your spouse, your family, your friends to grow
You give it time and attention.
Very few relationships end because of conflict
Conflict is simply a symptom.
Very many relationships die because of neglect.
This coming year we are preparing for my 40th class reunion. Quite frankly, we are just amazed at how many of us are still alive.
But here’s a good exercise. Go back and pull out your high school yearbook from your senior year.
Count how many people wrote in your book that you would always stay in touch. Think about how many times you wrote that in the yearbooks of others.
Where are those people now?
Very few relationships end because of conflict
Very many relationships die because of neglect.
If you want a relationship to grow, give it time and attention.
If I was the Evil One, I would try to steal your time.
I would fill your life with so many good things.
Not bad things
Good things:
Career, responsibilities, hockey, soccer, volleyball, dance, video games, even volunteering…you name it, so that you would not have time to give attention to the essential relationships….to what really matters.
The Kingdom of God is built of relationships
In fact, we even describe it in terms of the most intimate relationship that we humans can have with one another,
We call it being in full communion
with God and with one another in the Church
In this holy communion, who I am is intimately joined at the very level of being with who God is
And who you are as the body of Christ.
This is celebrated in the Eucharist as we celebrate and receive holy communion from this very altar.
Virtue deepens this communion
Sin injures or severs this communion
Reconciliation restores this communion.
In the end, it is not our stuff that we take with us when we leave this earth
It is the relationship we build while we are here
Our communion with Christ and with one another.
This is our treasure in heaven.
It’s all about trajectory.
And it begins now
The Kingdom of God is close at hand
Because you and I are close at hand.
Let us build these relationships with Christ and one another
while there is still time
So that we may say today and every day into eternity
I always thought Advent was a season of prayerful preparation for Christmas, but our deacon said that Advent is also a penitential season. Is that why the color of Advent is purple? – P
Dear P,
Thanks for the question. Advent is one of my favorite liturgical seasons. Personally, I find it a welcome respite and a spiritual refuge from the insanity that typifies the commercial “Holiday Season.” Advent gives us a chance to contemplate Christ’s return glory at the end of the age, even as we prepare to celebrate his first coming in humility. It gives balance, perspective, and focus to concentrate on what Christmas is really all about. Regarding your question, you are both right.
As early as the fourth century, we see certain bishops in the West proscribing spiritual exercises and penance in preparation for the celebration of the Nativity, albeit less strictly than in Lent. The oldest mention of norms for Advent come from St. Gregory of Tours, in the second book of his History of the Franks. Gregory’s predecessor Perpetuus, (c. 480) decreed that the people of Tours should fast three times a week and perform acts of penance from the feast of St. Martin on November 11th until Christmas. It’s tough to say whether Perpetuus was establishing this practice or simply regulating an earlier one. In 567, the second Council of Tours instructed the monks to fast from the beginning of December until Christmas. This observance was soon taken up by the laity. In fact, it was commonly called “St. Martin’s Lent.” In 582, the first Council of Macon established norms for a period of fasting and penance in the weeks preceding Christmas. The council fathers decreed that from St. Martin’s Day to Christmas, the people were to fast on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. In addition, Mass was celebrated according to the Lenten rite.
Today, Advent continues this tradition of prayerful preparation for the Holy Season of Christmas. (Which, incidentally, begins on Christmas Eve and ends on the Baptism of the Lord. So, the Christmas Season proper lasts either 14 or 20 days, depending on what day of the week Christmas falls.)
Advent is a time of great expectation. It typically lasts about four weeks, more or less. For the first three weeks, the readings at Mass invite us contemplate Christ’s coming in glory at the end of the age. In the last week, we shift gears to contemplate his first coming in humility in Bethlehem. Advent wreathes are the primary way we teach this. Each Sunday of Advent, as the light grows brighter when we light another candle, we are reminded of the image from John’s gospel of how Christ, the Light of the World, pierces the darkness of a world enslaved to sin and death. Every Catholic home should have an Advent wreath that is prayerfully lit each evening by a member of the household. It’s a great way to involve everyone, smallest to tallest. Personally, I’m also a big fan of Advent calendars to help build a sense of anticipation.
Advent is also a time to prepare practically and spiritually. Getting one’s physical house in order is a great place to begin. I always encourage the Advent purge. First, get rid of the physical clutter in the house. Is there some small appliance or other household item that has been giving you fits? Are there clothes that you haven’t worn all year? Get them out of there! Donate or recycle them. The same goes for getting your spiritual house in order. Are there attitudes, habits or sins that are coming between you and Christ or you and your loved ones? Get rid of them! Get into the confessional, lay them at the foot of the Cross, and get them out of your life. What better way to enter into the Holy Season of Christmas than with a clean, uncluttered house and a clean, uncluttered spirit?
Advent is a time of prayerful preparation for the coming of the Lord. It also gives us the opportunity to invite our neighbors and colleagues into a better way of celebrating Christmas.
Dear Fr. Leo:
I hate saying “Happy Holidays.” Can I say “Merry Christmas” during Advent? – J
Dear J,
Yes! Absolutely! At every opportunity you can!
Doing so is a great way to joyfully invite others to a deeper sense what Christmas is all about. It’s pretty simple to do. If someone greets me with “Happy Holidays!” I respond, “Why thank you! Merry Christmas!” Depending on the reaction, sometimes I’ll say to the side, “Actually, we Catholics are observing Advent right now. For us, the Christmas season starts on Christmas Eve. Then we party for twelve days!” It’s a great way to do a little street evangelization. Give it a try.
[Hey, folks. Deacon Mick Fornelli hit another one out of the park this weekend. I do like to hear him preach. Here is the vid of his homily on what we are to make of Jesus words about the tribulations in his age and in our own.
My own musings on the same readings, albeit with a very different take, are below.]
Dcn. Mick Fornelli – It’s Not the End of the World
BECAUSE OF THE NAME
Fall is football season. With football comes pre-game. With pre-game, comes pep talks.
The purpose of a pep talk is to inspire the squad to achieve higher than their expectations of others and perhaps even of themselves. Pep talks inspire confidence, build courage, unite teammates and set the heart on fire to aspire to great deeds. They usually have a great punchline like, “Win one for the Gipper!”
Today in the gospel, Jesus is also giving a kind of pep talk. He mentions how his disciples will be betrayed by those closest to them. How they will be dragged before religious and civil authorities because of his name. And so what is his punchline?
“You will be hated by all because of my name!”
What’s up with that?!
Unlike the first Christians, we have the benefit of history. We know what happened in the three centuries following Pentecost. Almost immediately, Christians were persecuted, first in the synagogues, and then at various times in the Roman Empire until Constantine legalized Christianity in 313 AD. (Ironically, because they did not sacrifice to the gods, the early Christians were persecuted as atheists.)
But it has not stopped there. According to the Center for the Study of Global Christianity, 900,000 Christians were killed in the last decade, about one every six minutes. Fortunately, this is down by about half from the previous decade that saw 1.9 million Christians killed in various parts of the world. These are sobering numbers.
Jesus was not being morbid, he was simply being realistic. It’s no different today than it was then. The simple fact of the matter is this. In today’s world, to be Christian, and especially to be Catholic, is to put a target on your back. If the political climate of the last few years in this country has taught us anything, it is that if you try to live your faith, even if you do it poorly, there are those in society who will find this very annoying. Finding it very annoying, they seek to remove us from the public square.
In this country, this has taken on the guise of the privatization of religious sentiment. Briefly put, it goes thus: “You may believe what you want, but don’t bring the insights or collective wisdom of your faith into polite public discourse. I find it offensive that your faith might seek to make a contribution to public discourse, let alone public policy.”
The fallacy of such a position seems obvious. Is this the only age in which human beings have existed in history? Could we not learn from the lived experience of our forebears? Are we doomed to simply repeat the errors of history, content in our own self-aggrandizement?
Hardly. For the past 2100 years, the Church is the only institution which has seen every political power and social movement come and go. We are not going anywhere. We have a place in the public square. As we have spoken in every age, we have a sacred duty to speak to the present age. A polite silence helps no one, saves no one.
Catholics in America are no strangers to subtle, polite persecution.
[I don’t think we can really begin to live fully until we come to terms with our own mortality – not in a morbid way, but in a healthy way, born of the hope that is in store for all of us.]
Well, winter is here and the liturgical year is winding down. Only two more Sundays before we start Advent. As we get to the end of Ordinary Time, the Church asks us to contemplate the end of all time. In this light, it’s not a bad idea to review the Four Last Things. As you recall, they are: death, judgment, heaven or hell.
In truth, I don’t think any of us can really begin to live until we come to terms with our own mortality.
[The Fr. McGillicuddy joke was told here. You have to watch the video to hear the joke! There is also a bonus joke about the Sadducees. ]
We don’t tend to contemplate our own death in the normal course of the day. However, I suspect that many of us have done so in the wake of the recent pandemic. I think living in the harsh beauty of Alaska also makes us pause from time to time. Anyone who has lived here for any length of time has lost a friend or a loved one to the wilderness. Twenty-eight years of ministry have also taught me that the more familiar you are with death, the less scary it becomes. There are certain people who have taught me how to die well as I have accompanied them to their passing. The moment of death can be a very grace-filled, and beautiful encounter. A friend’s wife once commented that it was very similar to being present at a birth. For the Christian, death is not something we hasten, but neither is it something we fear. As St. Paul says, “For we know that if our earthly dwelling, a tent, should be destroyed, we have a building from God, a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven.” (2Cor 5:1). Death then is simply the next step to the fulfillment of God’s plan for us.
That plan is that we become what God has intended us to be. There is a subtle, but real heresay out there that when we human beings die we become angels. It’s a nice thought and it makes for good Christmas stories, but it limps theologically. Angels are spiritual beings. They do not have a body. By comparison, we human beings are spiritual and corporeal. We have a body and a soul. When Christ came to redeem us, he took on our human nature, body and soul in the Incarnation. This is why the resurrection of Christ is so significant. By his own resurrection, Christ has shown us what lies in store for all the baptized who remain faithful. Namely, that at the end of the age, these lowly bodies of ours, such as they are, will be raised. Then comes particular and general judgment. If we have remained faithful, then we become what God has intended us to be—perfectly human, body and soul.
In talking about the last things, there is a temptation to see them as something distant and remote. But they are not. Our judgment at the end of the age depends entirely on our relationship with Christ now and throughout the rest of our lives. So in a very real sense, heaven begins now. (Hell also begins now, for that matter.) It’s a matter of trajectory. If we enter into communion with Christ now and deepen that communion in the future, that relationship continues and is fulfilled when we pass through the veil. If, however, we sever communion with Christ, then that is our fate. Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.
The decisions we make now will carry us into eternity.
“Hey, honey! Guess who’s coming to dinner?” How is Zacchaeus going to explain THIS to his wife? No need really. Check it out.
Zacchaeus gets an uninvited guest for dinner.
Everybody likes to be liked. It’s part of human nature. Conversely, nobody likes to be despised. It hurts our sense of self-worth. But sometimes, either because of the choices we make or the choices of others, we might find ourselves the object of people’s ire. (Often this will happen in traffic!)
It’s hard to imagine how much the people despised a guy like Zacchaeus. He was a Jew, but he was also a tax collector for the Roman occupational government. As such, he was seen as a collaborator. Unlike our own Internal Revenue Service, which is highly regulated and can only take what the government is legally entitled to, one of the common practices of the day among tax collectors was to charge more than the actual tax and pocket the rest. By his own admission, Zacchaeus appears to have done exactly that. People hated his guts.
Given all this, at first glance he’s not the kind of person that you would normally expect to seek out Jesus. Yet, there he is, climbing the sycamore tree to get a glimpse. That’s when things get interesting.
I truly believe that the last thing on Zacchaeus’ mind was that Jesus would invite himself to dinner. But that’s how Jesus works, sort of like a traveling salesman.
[Incidentally, you know what you do when the health food salesman knocks at your door? Go ahead and ‘vite – him – in!]
Like the door-to-door salesman, Jesus invites himself into our world and into our lives without apology. He does this all the time. It’s what happens next that makes the difference between a detached observer, a consumer of religious goods and services, or a disciple.
Zacchaeus did not ask Jesus to barge into his life; but when he does, Zacchaeus recognizes Jesus for who he is and the opportunity for what it is. Here is salvation from his miserable existence. Here is Hope Incarnate standing right below him. The repentance of Zacchaeus is profound and genuine because the forgiveness and reconciliation offered him is profound and genuine. The lesson of Zacchaeus is a lesson for us. No matter how wretched or despised we may think we are, Jesus barges into our lives. Today, salvation will come to this house. It’s how we respond that will make the difference.
