“Tree Climbers” 

Luke 19:1-10 

“So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree…”

There is a lost art, I think, today, as I look at my own kids lives. Perhaps it is just where I am from, perhaps it is just with the kids that I see, but there is, I will venture to guess, an art that has been lost since the time of my own childhood, and perhaps yours, and that is the art of climbing trees. Do you remember climbing trees when you were a child? 

In my neighborhood on Fernbank Ave in Monterey Park, CA, when I was growing up, a big chunk of my time on Saturdays, and on weekdays from the time I got home from school to the time that my mom called me in for dinner, was spent in and around the trees on our street. 

There was the cumquat tree up the street next door to my friend Marco's house. We would sit around that tree as kids do (what do you wanna do? I dunno, what do you wanna do?) and we would eat as many cumquats as we could fit into our little stomachs. (It was a very prolific tree). We ate not because we were hungry, but because we wanted the pits. We would eat, and then we would store the pits in our shirts. Can you guess what we did with them? We would have cumquat seed fights, sneaking around the neighborhood like secret agents, pelting each other as hard and as many times as we could until we ran out or someone went home crying, having been hit in the head.

Then there were the trees on the side of Brad's house across the street that together created a neat, completely enclosed area where we could have our secret club house. There we hatched our plans to create mischief and mayhem. 

Then there was the tree in my neighbor's yard, and this was my favorite. It was huge. Taller than our house, wide, with a thick trunk and tons of branches; perfect for climbing. We spent a lot of time in that tree. Seeing how high and how far out we could go. That tree was a vehicle for our imagination.  

It became a spaceship when we wished to explore space. It served as a big tank when we played soldiers, as a ship when we were pirates, and as a refuge when we were hiding from parents or siblings. When we climbed this tree, we climbed into a different world.  

I lift up these trees because an important part of our bible story this morning is, of course, the tree. I wonder if Zacchaeus, as he ran up the path to get ahead of Jesus, realized how important that tree would turn out to be for him. 

You see, Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector. He was an important cog in the oppressive and corrupt machine of Roman rule. They collected taxes for the conquering power, who didn't mind if they squeezed as much extra as they could for themselves. As a tax collector, he was despised as a crook, and as a collaborator with the enemy, becoming rich at the cost of his neighbor.  

Given this portrait, the text leads us to expect that he would have very little chance for salvation. Can you picture him, hearing the word that Jesus was passing through town? Can you picture him making his way to the main road, and being surrounded by people taller than he, people who didn't like him, who were not disposed to letting him through to the front of crowd? Can you picture him jumping up and down trying to catch a glimpse of Jesus above taller heads and shoulders? Can you picture his frustrated expression as he was elbowed and pushed to the back, “Out of the way, Zacchaeus!”  

No chance for salvation, except for a few things that Zacchaeus had going for him. One was his undeniable desire for Jesus, not only to see Jesus with his eyes,  to take a picture of him like a photographer on the edge of the red carpet before an awards show, but to see Jesus in a much more profound way. When the bible uses the word “to see” as it does here, it refers to more than just the visual act. Zacchaeus wanted to find out about Jesus; to see was he made of. Was it true, the rumors, the miracles, the words challenging the powerful? Zacchaeus wanted to know Jesus, and he wouldn't be denied. 

The second thing he had going for him was…the tree. When Zacchaeus found himself frustrated and cut off from his goal, he didn't turn around and go home, he thought of the tree…and he ran. Now, his culture valued status above all else. It really was better to look good than to feel good. Knowing that his neighbors would jeer unmercifully at his unseemly sprint, you would think that Zacchaeus would cling to what dignity he could, but no, he ran ahead like a little kid, and he rubbed his hands, hitched up his robe and started climbing that tree.

Wouldn't you know, having risked his dignity and his reputation, as he climbed that tree he climbed into a different life. “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” Grace, once more changes the rules of the game. See how important that tree was in the story? 

It is now Dec 10, 2006, and Jesus is about to arrive in town. We are now well into the season of Advent. We are moving quickly toward Christmas, toward the celebration of Emmanuel, God with us. Even though this holiday is at the top our holiday lists, the fact that it has acquired more of a commercial and consumer cast than a spiritual one can make it tough to experience the good news in a fresh way. Even if we are diligent during this time of preparation to encounter Jesus, we can still find ourselves blocked off by obstacles in our lives, restrained by crowds who elbow and push us toward the back (Out of the way, Paul!). With all of the business and distraction, with all of the responsibilities and to do lists, with finals having to be given and taken, it is easy for us to be frustrated in our attempts to find a fresh encounter with the one who gives us salvation.  

If we place ourselves in the story, our first tendency might be to think of our spiritual selves as tall and strong and at the head of the cheering crowds. There is nothing standing in between ME and Jesus! But too often we are more like Zacchaeus: small of stature, jumping up and down in the back, yet unable to catch a glimpse of the savior. We find ourselves trying to peer over the shoulders of our fears, trying to peek in between the nooks and crannies of our busy schedules. We find ourselves elbowed out of the way by grief, or pushed to the side by failing health or flagging energy. Some of us are blocked by negative, hurtful past experiences in the church, or by the fear that Jesus may ask more of us than we are willing to release.  

You know the crowds that keep you from Jesus this morning.  

We may feel so much like Zacchaeus that we are led to believe that there is little chance of a fresh, living touch of grace for us today. We may feel that this coming Christmas may be just like all the others that we have seen: a nice time, a little excitement, a brief flurry of wrapping paper and bows; but otherwise, nothing too special. 

In fact, we can easily slip through the holiday season, enjoy all of its wonderful trappings, sip some egg nog, enjoy some good company, enjoy some good time on the slopes, sing our favorite carols, we can easily do all these things and not encounter Jesus at all.  

That's why we have the season of Advent, to bring us to a moment of decision, whether to merely enjoy the atmosphere at the back of the crowds, or to do anything and everything we can to see Jesus.  

If we do make that decision to seek our savior, we have a few things going for us. First, we have the tree. The tree of our faith, with the trunk of Scripture, branches of prayer, song, reflection, shared meals, and acts of compassion. The tree of our faith can lift us up if we dare to climb. 

Zacchaeus invites us, this morning to do just that, to climb, to exercise our spiritual bodies, not caring what we look like to those stuck on the ground, not satisfied with a glimpse over someone's shoulder but reaching for the tall branches, praying, reflecting together, reading scripture, celebrating our diversity and our commonality, reaching out to those who are in need, spreading peace, and struggling for justice. These are strong limbs that will lift us up not only to see Jesus, but to know him in a fresh way.  

You may have crowds in your life, but I invite you to look inside yourself this morning, to check out the corners of your heart, to see whether there is in you a willingness, a desire like Zacchaeus' to see Jesus. I invite you this morning to ask yourself whether you are willing to risk, willing to risk your time, your energy, yourself in climbing a little higher in your faith.  

I don't know how to ski…yet, but growing up in HI, I did surf. Out in the water, when you see a set rolling in on the horizon, you paddle into position, and the water rises up behind you and you face a moment of decision. You see the drop, and the rocks. It looks a lot higher than it did a moment before. In that moment you must decide: back out or commit. Maybe this is something like standing at the top of a challenging run? In reality, I confess I wiped out most of the time, but there are moments. I can tell you, even though you wipe out sometimes, you have a lot more fun when you commit.  

This congregation, this local expression of the body of Christ, through its leadership has decided to climb a little higher in faith with a bold renovation of this facility. There is a certain amount of risk, yes, but this church is reaching for higher branches by renewing this facility so that it can support growing, faithful ministry in a new era in your church's life. With your time, and your presence, and your resources, are you wiling to climb?  

And yes, in a few moments, those of you who are active members of this congregation will vote on whether to call me as your new pastor. I am not perfect. I ride not into town with answers to every question, and solutions to every problem, but I do want to climb.  

Let's be honest, there is some risk in the vote you cast, but it is risk taken based upon trust in this faithful committee that you have chosen, and upon trust in the faithful God whom we worship. Based on this trust, it will be up to you to discern whether God has called you and me to climb together.  

We have one more thing going for us. Indeed it is the most important thing. Not only are we looking for Jesus, but he is looking for us too. It is not stated in the story, and I may be wrong, but I imagine that Jesus, as he made his way through town, was looking for tree climbers. Maybe not Zacchaeus specifically, or in a tree particularly, but he was looking for true seekers amongst the crowds.  

Among all the ones who merely wanted to squeeze a miracle out of him, among those who wanted him to exercise his power on their behalf, I believe Jesus was looking for ones who were willing to risk, ones who desired not only to see him but to know him, and be changed by him. Jesus was looking for ones who were not satisfied with the way things are. Those who were willing to place their lives in his hands. These ones, like Zacchaeus are the tree climbers.

Are you one? 

December 10, 2006

Rev. Paul Heins

First Presbyterian Church

Logan, Utah