OT XXXI [C]  Wis 11:22--12:2; 2 Thes 1:11--2:2. Lk 19:1- 10

There was a Zen school in Japan. They were training young boys in the discipline of meditation. The boys had been taken into seclusion. Among the boys there was one who kept stealing. So the boys finally put together a petition and brought the thief to the headmaster and stood there and said, "We are threatening right now to leave because we can't stand this kid any longer." With wisdom the Zen master approached them, looked at them, and said, "You are wise brothers. You are very wise. You are wise because you know the difference between right and wrong. You may go somewhere else to study if you wish, but this poor brother does not even know right from wrong. Who will teach him if I do not? I am going to keep him here even if all the rest of you leave." The story goes that a torrent of tears cleansed the face of that boy who had stolen, and the desire to steal was banished from him forever in that decisive moment.

The common theme of today’s readings is the benevolent and forgiving mercy of God for sinners and the response of repentance and conversion expected from us. 

In the first reading, the writer is attempting to boost the Faith of his fellow Jews by answering the question, "Why doesn’t God do away with   evil men?"  The answer is that, unlike men, God is benevolent toward all His creatures.  God's Providence for all His creatures shows that, in His strength, He can deal mercifully with all men. He “rebukes the offenders little by little,” “warns them of their sins” and reminds them to “abandon their wickedness. God continues to love us even when we do not love Him in return. 

In Luke ch.18, a rich ruler came to Jesus asking how he might be saved.  But he went away sad after learning that he would have to sacrifice his riches.  When the Apostles wondered if any man with possessions could be saved, Jesus assured them, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God" (18:18-27).  This account leads naturally to our Gospel lesson, the story of Zacchaeus, a rich man who found salvation when he surrendered himself to the grace of God.  The rich ruler was too attached to his possessions to give them to the poor.  The repentant Zacchaeus, on the other hand, voluntarily pledged to give half his possessions to the poor and to make four-fold restitution to any one he might have cheated.  

Zacchaeus, as chief tax-collector in Jericho (roughly equivalent to a district director of the IRS), was probably a man of much wealth and few friends. From the time of Julius Caesar, the options for collecting Rome’s taxes were auctioned off to the highest bidder in each municipality or county. In order to win the bid, the prospective tax collector would have had to pay to Rome, in advance, all the taxes due in his locale. Then, he would hire agents who would help in collecting the taxes so that he could recoup his initial investment, pay his agents and make a generous profit as well. Because the tax collectors extorted sizable amounts of interest in addition to the taxes fixed by Rome, they were despised by their own townspeople.  Since Zacchaeus had reached the top of his profession, he was the most hated man in the district, considered by the other Jews as a traitor, a thief and an outcast.  When Zacchaeus heard Jesus who also had Matthew a tax professional as his disciple was passing by Jericho, he thought to see this Rabbi very much. When Zacheaus was seeking to see Jesus, Jesus also was seeking to know Zacchaeus.

Sometimes we believe that we’re the ones looking for him, but the only reason we can even look for him is because he’s already looking for us. St John of the Cross said that if we’re seeking God, know that he is seeking us even more.

Jesus didn’t walk by that sycamore tree by accident: he’d been planning his encounter with Zacchaeus.  Zacchaeus was mired in his sins, trapped in a selfishness he couldn’t escape. Jesus came to find him. 

Jesus didn’t only come to seek; he came to save. We can’t heal ourselves from sin. Whether it appears to be a terrible, glaring sin, or whether we think it’s a peccadillo, we can’t save ourselves. But Jesus can. And Zacchaeus wanted to celebrate that encounter by throwing a party for him. During the banquet, Zacchaeus made the solemn announcement of his repentance and committed himself to doing justice by the sharing of his wealth and the making of reparations. Zacchaeus did not make this offer to win Jesus' approval, but to show his gratitude. 

There is an old legend that says Zacchaeus went every day outside the city of Jericho carrying a bucket of water. One day, his wife followed him, wondering what this daily ritual was all about. She saw him stop at a certain sycamore tree. Zacchaeus poured his bucket of water on the tree's thirsty roots, and then stood there reverently looking up into the tree. It was a sacred place, for it was the place where his life was changed.

But unfortunately a lot of Christians can tell the day and the hour they first met Jesus Christ, but they have never taken this final step of letting the Living Christ rearrange the priorities of their lives.  Zacchaeus was ready to let Christ be the very center of his life. He was ready to let Christ send him back out into the world to continue our Lord's ministry of justice and compassion. His faith was now central to his whole being. Tradition says he became the first bishop of Caesarea.

Zacchaeus allowed himself to be found. Christ also asks us to let ourselves be found by him. One of the most powerful ways to do that is to wait for him at the confessional with a repentant heart.

When we go to confession, Jesus repeats the same words he said in Zacchaeus’s home: “Today salvation has come to this house.”

Let us remember that Jesus loves us in spite of our ugly thoughts, broken promises, sullied ideals, lack of prayer and Faith, resentments and lusts.  He will put us back on the straight road to Heaven.  We will become again true "sons and daughters of Abraham", If we stop hiding and allow him to find us. If we are short in our ego and get out to seek Jesus.