One Hand Clapping

        Rose Russel was only twenty five.  But she was far more successful than most men fifty years of age.   She was a partner in a real estate and investment firm in Newport Beach. She was also a partner in a string of properties in the beach area.  She drove a silver Mercedes and it was paid for. But at twenty five – with all this apparent success – she went to a motel room, sat down and wrote a plaintive note and took her own life.  Her brief suicide note simply read, “I’m so tired of clapping with one hand.”

       It’s terrible to feel cut off – even when you have it made.  You are doing it but you are doing it all for yourself.  You know people but only professionally.  There is no one who really cares.  The only applause you hear is the applause you give yourself -- the sound of one hand clapping. 

       Zacchaeus also has it made – but he claps alone.  Nobody likes Zacchaeus. When they see him oiling down the sidewalk they cross to the other side of the street. He is short, rich, smart, corrupt -- a first century counterpart of Danny DeVito’s character Louie DePalma from "Taxi." (project picture)   Remember Louie?  You may remember the episode where De Palma goes to court because he’s being sued by an elderly lady in her wheelchair.  He thinks she’s lying about being handicapped.  So he pushes her out of her chair.  When she doesn’t get up he turns to the judge and says, “I have no further questions, your honor.”  That’s Louis DePalma.  That’s the image I want you to keep in your mind.        

       The tax collectors are a despicable bunch.  They use the oppression of their own people for profit. The Roman government demands taxes and these tax collectors are Jewish citizens who take advantage of the taxation of their fellow citizens.  They get a commission on all of the taxes they collect for the government and pocket altogether what they collect beyond their government quota.

       From a business perspective, Zacchaeus has it made. Custom duties are collected at three places inland -- Capernaum, Jericho, and Jerusalem -- and he has one of the big three. Jericho has a commanding position at the crossing of the Jordan River. And Jericho is rich due to its great palm forests and balsam groves. As chief tax collector Zacchaeus is head of a tax-farming corporation with collectors who extort from the people, then pay him before he pays the Romans. He is filthy rich in the fullest sense of the term.

       Jesus said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."  Some of the locals would have liked to see if they could put Zacchaeus through the eye of a needle -- "squeezed out," as C. S. Lewis put it, "in one long bloody thread from tail to snout." But he has Roman power behind him, so nobody can touch him.  He is hated.

        Jesus is coming through the ancient city of Jericho on the way to Jerusalem for Palm Sunday.  Zacchaeus wants to see him.  Zacchaeus is fascinated by Jesus. So he climbs a sycamore tree on the main road and settles into a secure, comfortable perch with leaves to protect him – where nobody will see him. 

       Earl Palmer of University Presbyterian in Seattle observes that “Zacchaeus finds himself in a jam. Like many other people he wants to see Jesus. He wants to hear Jesus speak. But he wants to see Him and he wants to hear him on His own terms -- from the safety of a tree.” We are often the same way. We want a good view of Jesus but we want it from a safe distance. That's what Zacchaeus wants. And everything is going along quite well until he gets more than he bargains for.

       Zacchaeus is sitting in the tree, the leaves cover him. He has his digital SLR camera with the telephoto lens from the tax revenues. He has his recorder with the directional mike also from the tax revenues. He wants to see Jesus.

       We can hear him muttering to himself, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if He would stop just below the tree at a perfect camera angle. Maybe He'll get into one of his famous dialogues with the Pharisees. I'd love to see Him put them down again! Maybe He'll be talking with the disciples, or perhaps some sick people will come along and He will heal them. That would be interesting too. I wish I'd brought my video recorder — I wish they’d been invented."

       Maybe that's all he wants out of this. He wants to observe from the outside. But maybe, just maybe, he wants a lot more. He’s heard more about Jesus than just that He has power. He somehow hopes that Jesus might actually have something for him.

       Philip Yancey writes in The Jesus I Never Knew: "Unlike most men I know, Jesus loved to praise other people. When He worked a miracle, He often deflected credit back on the recipient: "Your faith has healed you." He called Nathanael "a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false." Of John the Baptist, He said there was none greater born of women. Volatile Peter He renamed "the Rock." When a cringing woman offered him an extravagant act of devotion, Jesus defended her against critics and said the story of her generosity would be told forever.

       "The Gospels show that Jesus quickly established intimacy with the people He met. Whether talking with a woman at a well, a religious leader in a garden, or a fisherman by a lake, He cut instantly to the heart of the matter and after a few brief lines of conversation these people revealed to Jesus their innermost hearts. People of His day tended to keep rabbis and "holy men" at a respectful distance, but Jesus drew out something else, a hunger so deep that people crowded around him just to touch His clothes.

       "Jesus was ‘the man for others,’ in Bonhoeffer's fine phrase. He kept Himself free -- free for the other person. He would accept almost anybody's invitation to dinner, and as a result no public figure had a more diverse list of friends, ranging from rich people, Roman centurions, and Pharisees to tax collectors, prostitutes, and leprosy victims. People liked being with Jesus.  Where He was, joy was."

       Zacchaeus wants that too.  It’s possible that Zacchaeus has heard one particular story that touches his own heart. Perhaps he has heard of the conversion of another tax collector named Levi. We call him St. Matthew. He is now one of Jesus' followers. Perhaps he has even known Levi. Palestine is a small place, and tax collectors would have naturally hung out together. Because Jesus had ministered to Levi and others of his crowd, he has irked the religious establishment and is known as a friend of "tax collectors and sinners." For Zacchaeus, that reputation is just maybe an open door.

       It is also very likely that Zacchaeus finds his wealth and lifestyle unsatisfying. A sense of unease makes every pleasure unfulfilling. Nothing lasts. He’s tired of clapping with one hand.  Zacchaeus is tired of being hated by his people. When people insult him, he gives it right back but he is miserable. The relentless contempt of his people leaves him desolate and alone.

       When Jesus stops by the sycamore tree, hidden Zacchaeus naturally tenses up.   And then sheer terror grips his soul as Jesus lifts His eyes. Zacchaeus braces himself to be a spectacle of ridicule -- especially when Jesus calls him by name.

       But in Jesus' use of his personal name there is a hint of grace. Jesus calls him by name, just as he had earlier called Nathanael, to Himself.  As Jesus invites himself to Zacchaeus' home, He doesn’t say, "I would like to stay at your house” but "I must stay." Jesus regards his encounter with Zacchaeus as a divine mission. His seeking Zacchaeus is a work of sovereign grace.

       The crossing of their lives at the sycamore is a work of divine providence. The camel is about to go through the eye of a needle!

        Jesus calls Zacchaeus to Himself. Jesus invites him to be a student, a disciple, and a companion. No one has invited Zacchaeus to anything of a better life in decades. Wholesome dreams for him had ended about the sixth grade.

       Zacchaeus change? Impossible! Except for one thing -- he is sought out by Jesus.

       To the crowd's amazement, Jesus heads off with the half-pint kingpin of the Jericho tax machine. Jesus and His disciples spend the night there. And sometime during that stay, probably after much discussion and prayer, a suddenly big little man formally stands up and declares for all Jericho to hear, "Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount."

       Earl Palmer writes: "What Zacchaeus runs into -- and what changes his life -- is the acceptance of Jesus. Zacchaeus becomes inwardly healed and, therefore, outwardly ethical. That's the biblical norm. When a person's life is touched by the grace of Christ it will show up in the way he or she behaves." 

       Zacchaeus is saved. Jesus announces that salvation has come to his house. But let us also look at the cost. It wasn’t free. 

      It’s hard for us to allow other people to change, especially if they’ve hurt us or we think they’ve hurt us. 

      In 1974, a man named Fred Snodgrass died. The New York Times printed the news with this headline: "Fred Snodgrass, 86, dead, Ballplayer Who Muffed Fly ball in 1912."

       The muffed fly ball had happened sixty-two years earlier, but some sportswriter wouldn't let the world forget that Fred Snodgrass had made a mistake in a ball game in 1912. He spelled it out in detail. It was in the World Series. The hitter hit a pop fly. Fred Snodgrass dropped the ball—made an error—which set up the winning run for the other team. The next batter hit a single, the game was over, and Fred's team, the Giants, lost.  Sixty two years later, that’s the only thing that counted in New York.  When I asked Richard Harris of our congregation who played pro ball in that long-ago era if he’d ever heard of Fred Snodgrass he said, “Sure.  He’s the guy who dropped the ball. 

       What the sportswriter didn't tell us is that after his baseball career was over, Fred Snodgrass moved to California and settled down just twenty miles from here in Oxnard. He became mayor of the city. He was a banker and a rancher; he raised his children there. Fred was an outstanding leader in Oxnard. People who grew up in Oxnard then say that he was loved, admired and respected. 

       Evidently the sportswriter thought that Fred Snodgrass's life had ended in 1912 when the Giants lost the World Series.  He was still angry at Snodgrass.  He couldn’t let him up.  It doesn’t matter who he b became in Oxnard.  In New York he dropped the ball.         

       That’s how the people of Jericho feel about Zacchaeus but with a whole lot more reason. 

       In verse 7, Luke writes: "and when the people around Jesus saw it they all began to grumble, saying, "He has gone into be the guest of a man who is a sinner."

       This is an interesting verse. When Jesus healed the paralytic who was let down through the roof and then forgave his sins, the Bible says that the Pharisees and the Scribes murmured at Him saying, "Who is this that forgives sins? Only God can forgive sins." We have numerous accounts where the Pharisees, scribes, lawyers or Sadducees murmur at Jesus. Even the disciples of John the Baptist are said to have murmured. But now we have a text where they all murmur -- that means the disciples too! Everyone is upset with Jesus -- maybe even Matthew who thought that one saved tax collector was enough — or maybe Matthew knew better than anyone else what Zacchaeus had done.

       When Jesus first stops beneath the tree where Zacchaeus is hiding the disciples and all Jericho hug themselves in anticipation. Maybe Jesus is going to zap the whole tree. Or maybe He will give Zacchaeus a good tongue lashing. He deserves every bit of holy hell that Jesus can give him. Or maybe Jesus can just say, "I see you in the tree Zacchaeus:" and leave it there. Then everyone can laugh at foolish Zacchaeus.

       Jesus could have sealed his popularity with the people with any of those actions. But the way He actually finishes the sentence offends them all. "I'm glad I found you up in the tree Zacchaeus. I must come and spend the night in your home."

       Some commentators suggest that this is the last straw for Judas --the event that leads him to go make his deal with the chief priest to betray Jesus. Zacchaeus gains ground. But Jesus loses ground. Zacchaeus passes through the eye of a needle not as a "long bloody thread from tail to snout" but because of the blood of Jesus.

       "Today," Jesus says to Zacchaeus, "salvation has come to your house." But Jesus pays a price for that salvation -- a price He pays willingly because, as verse 10 records, Jesus said that His mission was to seek and to save the lost. Jesus has far more in mind for Zacchaeus that Zacchaeus has in mind for himself. But that's the way salvation always is.

       Zacchaeus stays in Jericho to do what he said he would do – give away his fortune.  Jesus leaves Jericho to go to Jerusalem for Palm Sunday and Holy Week to do what He said He would do – die for the sins of the world.

       During this season we are in a sermon and small group series on “People of the Cross.”  Today we have looked at Zacchaeus.  And this may seem strange because Zacchaeus was no where near the cross when it happened. 

       But as we think about it, we realize that nobody has a greater stake in what happens at the cross and what happens after the cross than Zacchaeus.  Zacchaeus has just gambled it all.  He has changed his life and given away his security at the invitation of Jesus.  And now Zacchaeus, maybe just ten days later, hears that Jesus is dead, crucified.    

       So here’s the question for Zacchaeus.  Has he backed the wrong horse? Has he given it all up at the say-so of a man who is now dead and discredited?  Jesus promised, "Today salvation has come to your house." But does that promise mean anything?  Or did the validity of that promise die just ten days later along with Jesus?  

       It’s a real question for all of us.  Jesus promises but do the promises mean anything?  It’s a great question. It goes to the root of our forgiveness and new life. 

       This is why the Apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15 that if Jesus died and stayed dead then sin won -- your sin, my sin and the sins of Zacchaeus.  If Jesus died and stayed dead then the promises he made have no value.  All of those promises are null and void.  Paul writes, “If Christ is not raised from the dead, we are still in our sins.”   

       That’s why Zacchaeus, who hears of the cross, also needs to know of the resurrection.  He needs to hear Paul’s triumphant words, “But now, in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead.”  Zacchaeus needs to know that he has been changed – not just deluded.  He needs to know, in Paul’s words, that his work in the Lord is not pointless.   He needs to know that salvation has come to his house.  He needs to know that he has received the applause of the risen Jesus Himself.  He needs to know that he is no longer clapping alone.  That’s what Easter tells him. 

       Jesus said that the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. If, like Zacchaeus, you will welcome Jesus into your life with faith, He can turn things around for you too. He can pick you up and give you a new start. He can wash you clean by the miracle of His amazing grace. 

       But, just like Zacchaeus, you are called to literally bet you life that Jesus is telling you the truth.  That’s what Easter guarantees.

      As much as anything else, this is what the Zacchaeus story says to you and me: We are forgiven. Like Zacchaeus, we have messed up. We have sinned. We may have given in to greed and selfishness. Or, like Fred Snodgrass, we may have made a mistake or an error. If so, the story in Luke 19 has great news for you: You can be forgiven!

       You can be set free on the authority of Jesus.  Because Jesus is alive!