4 before Advent. Zacchaeus
Preached at St Peter’s Chaplaincy
Isaiah 1.10-18; Luke 19.1-10

Here’s a sermon dedicated to mathematicians in every land.
And to the memory of Zacchaeus,
patron saint of tax collectors, the Inland Revenue, actuarians, brokers, dealers and accountants everywhere.

It’s a mathematical sermon – although no calculators are permitted as you listen.
You need to do your own reckoning up in your head as we go along
and then see whether we all arrive at the same answer.

Now that may be hard for a small fraction of you
for in these times such arithmetical demands can divide a congregation;
added to which I have no desire in any way to subtract from your faith,
but rather, hopefully, to let God multiply it by a few percentage points.

So here’s a simple sum to start you all off.
(To get you in the mood for perhaps more complex computations later.)
First question. 1+1+1=?

Here’s my working out.
I am one of three brothers. 
We are the sum of our parents’ calculations;
the complex calculus of their aspirations. And the answer? 1+1+1=3

The eldest, me; no 1 son, and a poor priest.
No 2 brother is a psychologist by day and runs a dating agency by night.
No 3 is a tax accountant.
His accountant’s jokes about missing decimal points last long into the night….
And, though both my brothers’ salaries often leave me – the unequal figure in the equation –
green with envy,
together we make the triplication of assets
my parents wanted, to complete the long working out of their lives.
But contrast Zacchaeus. His presence was a welcome addition – for no-one.
For his worldly increase was based on continuous subtraction from the poor wealth of others.

Chief tax collector was he; a rich man.
Rich enough, because of the franchisees who farmed his taxes for him round the whole region of Jericho.
Rich enough, because of the way he creamed off a percentage of everything for himself.
Rich enough, to afford the Roman body guards who kept him safe.
Safe – except for the whispers, the jeers and ‘fat cat’ catcalls that followed him everywhere.

By all accounting he was a crook; the multiplication of his wealth achieved
in direct proportion to the mean square root of the misery he caused.

He marched around the axes of his two-dimensional world
a tiny, diminutive figure – a small dot of a man –
like a difficult decimal point between the several large ciphers that always accompanied him.

And if his monthly calculations were not equalled,
then a number of his heavy-handed guards would find the solution for him.

As problems went, he was painfully and permanently insoluble to the people of the region.
Insoluble, that is, until one day the original prime number came into town.
(Expressed mathematically as 1+1+1=1; but work it out theologically.)

Jesus was coming and Zacchaeus wanted to contemplate this unique figure as it drew closer.
He climbed a nearby tree like the interest rates climb during a sudden recession.
And, no, things could never be the same again.

Jesus spoke to him.
Jesus spoke to him.
‘Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus. Come down. I’d like to eat with you.’ Simple words, but….

Figures and numbers, cyphers and calculations fell like loose change
from Zaccaheus’ deep pockets.

Rules for calculating compound interest, arithmetical and algebraic symbols fell away
as he heard the letters of his name spoken out.

His name. His name. Jesus was calling him by his name.
When had anyone last done that?

Zacchaeus came down the tree different. He came down a man.
He was made up; a fraction of his real self no longer.
He was a figure made complete; a whole man, with no remainder.

Together they walked a few steps
– just enough for him to recognise in Jesus the algorithm of his salvation.

The crowd murmured, like bulls and bears squabbling in some marketplace exchange hall.
All eyes were on them.

And as they watched him, some defensive mechanism in Zacchaeus collapsed;
the tariffs that protected the finances of his soul were suddenly swept away; abolished,
the artificial barriers of his false integrity disintegrated,
and his humanity leapt forth from him,
connecting with Jesus and with the crowd around them.

This exchange was unlike anything he’d experienced in his life;
its rate caught him by surprise as, breathlessly he cried aloud,
announcing to the crowd half his possessions to the poor
and the fourfold repayment of any claim of overcharge, overpayment or miscalculation.

The crowd inhaled sharply and, in the brief silence that ensued,
did their own ad hoc creative accountancy in their heads.

The bodyguards melted swiftly away,
disappearing like good money after bad in a run of panic trading…..
In the hours that followed Zacchaeus watched as his reserves disappeared
and as his nice little pension fund evaporated for good.
His savings were no more. 

So he’d just have to start again. And find a better way this time.
And, besides, what price his current savings, anyway:
when his futures seemed suddenly so healthy………?

Today salvation had come his way: savings of a different sort.
Insider dealing of a altogether different kind now:
inner profit for his soul’s security,
guaranteed by the endless reserves of God’s infinitely gratuitous love
and secured by the value of the stock of a certain Good Friday’s trading

Another gamble for Zacchaeus?
A risky hedge fund?
Or a gilt-edged investment; the best he’d ever know……..?

He went off rejoicing. To a celebration and a meal.

The crowd sat around and wondered.
Was there a profit in this for them also?

And what of me? And what of you?

Take time to think it through.
No pressure; no cold calling or hard sell. No debts to pay.
No annoying small print or hidden financial penalties.
No complex figures to be calculated.
Just the risk of responding somehow – somehow, somehow – when he calls our name.
Listen…..

Terry Biddington

 

St Peter's Chaplaincy is a resource for exploring the life of faith. It seeks to be inclusive, open and welcoming, offering companionship on the Journey
Chaplaincy to Higher Education in Manchester		Manchester Metropolitan University University of Manchester Royal Northern College of Music
		St Peter's Church