My Name is Zacchaeus

Tony Pears

My name is Zacchaeus. I have lived my whole life in Jericho and I love the place dearly. My parents were Jewish, of course, but not strictly observant. We observed the festivals and went to Jerusalem for Passover, but we didn’t follow all the rules.

 

As I grew up I could see that many who did were hypocrites. They were seen to be righteous people, but really they were no better than the rest of us and found their own ways of doing what they wanted and getting what they wanted.

 

I found the scriptures fascinating and was very proud to be part of the chosen people of our god with an amazing history and sense of hope for the future.

 

Jericho is quite a cosmopolitan place. But I grew up feeling different from others and wanting to give myself security and independence. I could see that there were lots of opportunities for making money if you were intelligent like I was. I didn’t want to own lots of fancy things. I just wanted financial security and the freedom that give me to live my own life.

 

I was aware that the tax collectors who worked for the Romans could be very successful, but were, of course, despised by most Jewish people. But I was a loner anyway and was never popular. In fact I was harshly bullied as a child and felt very much an outsider. I believed that no one else would really care for me in this life.

 

I was short in stature and not physically strong and I was often humiliated.

 

I could see that the tax collectors had the protection of the Romans.

 

My family had contacts which meant I was able to become a tax collector and I became very good at it. I was grateful for the opportunity and always served the Romans well. As a result I was promoted to Chief Tax Collector in Jericho.

 

I invested my money in property but I was very interested in the history and religions of Greece and Rome. I acquired many expensive scrolls of works by Greek and Roman authors. But this only made me value the Scriptures of my own people more.

 

How I would have loved to discuss these things with the scribes and learned ones of my own people.

 

I first heard of Jesus through the grapevine of tax collectors. He had become very popular in Galilee as a teacher and had included tax collectors in invitations to dine with him. He was very critical of the Pharisees and the teachers of the Law, rather than the Romans.

 

Knowing him only by reputation I instinctively warmed to him as in some way an outsider like myself. When I heard that he was coming to Jericho, I was determined to see him for myself and that’s how I ended up in the sycamore-fig tree.

 

When he looked up at me and called my name, I was overcome with joy – joy like I had never experienced in my life before.

 

My name Zacchaeus means ‘pure’, and all my life that was used as a reproach against me. But I always believed that all through my life God had been with me and had never rejected me.

 

When I heard Jesus’ voice speaking to me, all my hopes for reconciliation with my past and with my people were fulfilled wholly and completely in that single moment.

 

 

Looking beyond our tribe – Sue McRae

 

I seem to have many tribes, or groups of people I feel at home with in different situations:

 

My family tribe

My St Andrew’s tribe

My tennis tribe

My Scrabble tribe

My German tribe (student friends, translator colleagues)

My knitting tribe (an online group of enthusiasts sharing knitting patterns and swapping balls of wool)

My singing tribe (“Doubtful Sounds”) a cappella group

 

By tribe, I suppose I mean people I feel comfortable with, who share the same language and enjoy the same things. In each tribe there’s a shared history, an unspoken code and in-jokes and understandings.

Sometimes I find cross-overs or intersecting circles between my tribes (for instance: a German knitter, or a singer in the Doubtful Sounds who likes playing Scrabble) but I can’t really think of a German tennis-playing friend among them who likes Scrabble, singing a cappella, knitting and progressive theology. So most of the time I interact in one or other of these tribes and there is little cross pollination. I’m sure that’s true for many people.

 

What I have been thinking about is how I can interact meaningfully with people who don’t share my interests, my background, my religious beliefs or my political views. Sometimes it’s hard to advocate for the Maori language in my tennis tribe or my Scrabble club, for instance, as most members of those clubs are older generation, non-Maori speakers with little regard for the Maori world and next-to-no understanding of our country’s history. Some of them are even openly hostile to the increased use of Maori language in Aotearoa (or even the word Aotearoa itself!)  and make disparaging remarks about Maori dole bludgers, parenting skills or work ethic. That makes me uncomfortable, and I often wrestle with whether to say anything, or how to stand up for marginalised groups, without raising heckles or causing friction within the tribe I am currently interacting with.

 

Treading that fine line between sticking up for people who are misunderstood and keeping the peace in the room is something I struggle with. It’s not that I want all my tribes to meet and get on, or share the same viewpoints, but hiding the thoughts and beliefs I share within one tribe from members of another is tricky. It’s also easy to get labelled as a wet liberal, trendy lefty or bleeding heart if I do stick up for a group of people others are disparaging.

 

Zaccheus didn’t fit in. He wasn’t an accepted member of the Jesus “tribe”, due to his wealth and dodgy profession. People thought he should be ostracised, or taught a lesson, but Jesus chose to draw him closer and make himself a guest in his home. Does this mean I should invite the racist or the bigot into my home and wait for them to see the error of their ways? I’m not sure I’m up for that, or whether they would ever be ready to change their minds.

 

So how do we be true to our authentic selves, how do we treat people outside of our “tribes”, or our realm of familiarity; how do we approach them with an open mind and heart? I know I need to work on accepting people with polar opposite views to mine, and try to see things from their perspective before presenting my opinions in a calm and reasonable way. Hmmm, calm and reasonable – not the first two words you might immediately associate with me, if you know me well! Too often I get hot under the collar. How do YOU deal with these quandaries, and how many tribes do you engage with in your daily life?  Something to think about, perhaps. Maybe we can have a conversation about it over morning tea. 

 

I’d like to finish this reflection with another Michael Leunig poem, following on from the one John read us as the Contemporary Reading. This one is called:

 

We are accepting

We loosen our grip

We open our hand,

We are accepting.

In our empty hand

We feel the shape

Of simple eternity.

It nestles there;

We hold it gently,

We are accepting.

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