November 3, 2019: Restoring Grace

November 3, 2019                                                                Rev. Rhonda Blevins, DMIN

Restoring Grace

Luke 19:1-10

 He entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.” Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

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 “If you steal my car on Monday, and get saved on Tuesday, yet you continue to drive my car on Wednesday, then you weren’t truly saved on Tuesday.”

 This is an illustration used by my friend, Rev. Dr. Kevin Cosby. Dr. Cosby is the pastor of a predominantly black mega church, and he’s the president of Simmons College, an historically Black College in Louisville, Kentucky where my family and I lived prior to our move to Florida. For over two years I met with a group of white pastors almost every Monday—we “went to school” with Dr. Cosby. He taught us how to see the world through the lens of Black Americans, specifically, American descendants of slaves (“ADOS”). Dr. Cosby opened our eyes to the historic, systemic injustices that perpetuate a cycle of gaps in wealth, educational advancement and opportunity between blacks and whites to this day. One of Dr. Cosby’s favorite stories in the Bible is the story of Zacchaeus.

 Zacchaeus was a tax collector which means that he was a Jew working for the despised Roman government. Tax collectors would collect taxes from fellow Jews for the Roman oppressors; tax collectors were permitted by Rome to collect as much as they wanted over and above what they were required to send to Rome. And Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector—he had guys working under him. So not only did he get his own cut, but a cut from the guys working under him. Tax collectors were thought of by their fellow Jews as traitors, thieves, and extortionists. So Zacchaeus was “loaded” but loathed. He was well known because of his riches and his position as “chief thief”—but simultaneously well hated.

 One reason this story is a favorite of Dr. Cosby, it that it speaks to a systemic injustice in Jesus’ day. Systemic injustice existed then and it exists today. Dr. Cosby helped me understand that like American Descendants of Slaves, Jesus and his fellow Jews were victims of systemic injustice. Zacchaeus was just a pawn of Rome, but he bore culpability in the injustice perpetrated against his fellow Jews.

 But something happened on the way to the bank that day. Jesus was passing through town.

 Jesus had become quite well-known by this point in his ministry. In the same way you and I might try to catch a glimpse of Tom Cruise if we heard he was walking down Mandalay, Zacchaeus was curious to see this “Jesus” fellow. Zacchaeus was short and unpopular—maybe he tried to push through the crowd to see Jesus and he was prevented from doing so. Who knows? Being an industrious fellow, he solved that problem and shimmied up a tree. A grown man in a tree. Zacchaeus was accustomed to indignity—what was one more reason for people to scoff?

 Jesus saw Zacchaeus in the tree. Whether someone pointed out the infamous man in the tree we don’t know, but Jesus spoke to him across the crowd, “Come on down, Zacchaeus. I choose you. I’m staying at your place today.”

 Jesus offered restoring grace to Zacchaeus, and Zacchaeus was saved.

 Jesus knew who Zacchaeus was and what he had done. Jesus saw him, looked past the crowd straight into Zacchaeus’ heart, and accepted him. Jesus saw Zacchaeus. Jesus accepted Zacchaeus. And Zacchaeus was saved.

 How do we know? We know by what happens next, when Zacchaeus says: “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” Jesus directs his next comment to the crowd witnessing this encounter: “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

 My friend, Dr. Cosby, loves this story not just because it speaks to systemic injustice, but it tells the story of one who does his part to repair fourfold the injustice in which he was complicit. For Dr. Cosby, Zacchaeus is the epitome for how a genuine encounter with Christ can and should change a person, and even a system.

 Some Christians are waking up to this deep and difficult ideal.

 NPR reported this week that Princeton Theological Seminary recently established a $27 million endowed fund for reparations from which scholarships will be awarded to ADOS, and a Center for Black Church Studies will be created. While the school never owned slaves, a historical audit showed that it, “benefited from the slave economy, both through investments in Southern banks . . . and from donors who profited from slavery.” The president of Princeton seminary explained the decision, saying, “As a theology school, we use the language of confession to acknowledge our complicity with slavery.”[1]

 Princeton isn’t the only school of theology to make this move. Virginia Theological Seminary in Alexandria, Virginia, the flagship institution of the U.S. Episcopal Church, recently established a reparations fund, offering scholarships to the descendants of slaves who actually built the campus. The seminary’s president explained, “This is the seminary recognizing that along with repentance for past sins, there is also a need for action.”

 A criticism of American Christianity is that American Christians are too individualistic—it’s “Jesus Loves Me” to the neglect of “Jesus Loves Us.” American Christians too often ignore systemic issues and fall short of the ideals of restorative justice modeled by Jesus. As we grow in faith, the story of Zacchaeus must grow with us from just a heartwarming story about a “wee, little man” in a tree to a man demonstrating life-altering, mature, faith, recognizing his place in perpetuating oppressive systems.

 What about your faith? Is it all about you? Admittedly, that’s where it starts. We must learn the letters of the alphabet before we can read Shakespeare. Faith begins with the belief that it’s merely personal, but it can’t stay there. Mature faith metamorphosizes from personal to corporate—from self to systems. And if you haven’t noticed, our systems desperately need some Christians to “get saved.”

 Part of the beauty of the table is that through the bread and wine, we are reminded of our oneness with Christ and with all humanity, past, present and future. Individuality fades in the oneness of Christ. As we consume the body and the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ today, may we remember his restoring grace, leading us ever deeper in the life of faith as we realize ever more fully that it’s not just about me, but that it’s all about us.

   [1] Tom Gjelten, “With Plans To Pay Slavery Reparations, Two Seminaries Prompt A Broader Debate,” NPR News, https://www.npr.org/2019/10/29/774217625/with-plans-to-pay-slavery-reparations-two-seminaries-prompt-a-broader-debate.