Between Righteousness and Mercy

Luke 19:1-10

Emmanuel Baptist Church; Rev. Kathy Donley

April 6, 2025

Note: A recording of the worship service in which this sermon was preached may be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkQ4s3bEu6Y

Full disclosure – I didn’t want to preach this sermon. I went to a clergy Bible study this week. It’s a group of pastors who preach from the lectionary just about every Sunday. I preach from the lectionary about half of the time, so I’m often out of step with them. The story of Zacchaeus is not today’s lectionary text, so I was out of step again. They were all talking about the time that Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, anointed Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume. The conversation about that story became very rich. We noted parallels between that time and ours, especially similarities about politics and economics then and now. I left that Bible study wishing that I was on lectionary this week, because the sermon that we had started to generate together felt better and more comforting than one about Zacchaeus. It would certainly go down easier than this one. Or so I imagined. I seriously thought about changing to that text, but by that time, Dorothy had all the bulletin material and Michael had made his musical selections. I didn’t want to start over at that level, so I stuck with Zacchaeus and here we are.

If we’ve been around church for a while, and most of us have, we know this story in a certain way. The way we know the story starts like this: Zacchaeus was a rich tax collector who got wealthy collecting taxes from his own people and handing them over to the enemy.

Walter Brueggemann describes tax collectors as revenue men for the Roman Empire. He says, “The purpose of that empire, like every empire, whether Babylon among the Jews, Rome in the time of Jesus, or the US empire . . .is to coercively extract wealth for the sake of the center. Zacchaeus served such a regime. . . Zacchaeus was an agent of the violence of the empire.” [1]

Ancient Roman tax systems were regressive which means there was a heavier tax burden on lower income levels and a lighter one on wealthier social classes. Throughout much of Roman history the tax burden was almost exclusively laid on the poorest people of the Empire while wealthier bureaucrats could avoid taxation. These systems contributed to the concentration of wealth and land in the hands of a small class of aristocrats.[2] Does any of that sound familiar? Poor people paid proportionally more in taxes than the rich. In return, they did not get education for their children or healthcare or security for their old age. They had no way to demand something better. The government was rigged to benefit those already in power. Again, this sounds like something we’re very familiar with.

So, the way we have usually been taught to understand this story is that Zacchaeus has found a way to make the system work for him. He has turned his back on his own people because he is greedy for money and power. In a world of good and evil, we know which side he is on and we have no sympathy for him. But Jesus does. Jesus does not call him out, but calls him in, naming him a child of Abraham. Essentially, he says to the crowd, “this man is one of us.” Jesus gives to Zacchaeus the supreme honor of hosting Jesus in his own home. And he does it in front of everyone. Not you too, Jesus. Are you falling for this?

What we know about Jesus is that he is into forgiveness. He is into transforming people’s lives, helping them change. And so, we can kind of stomach this story if it’s told like that. In fact, that’s what translators and interpreters have done with this text for a very long time. In most translations, after Zacchaeus gets down from the tree, he tells Jesus “half of my goods I will give to the poor; I will pay back four times as much.” It seems like this is a story of repentance. Because Zach has encountered Jesus, he will change his ways. The people of Jericho may not believe it. They may still not trust him, but we know that’s how Jesus works.

Except that’s not a good translation. Zach actually says “Behold, Lord, half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” The verbs in that sentence are in present tense. He is describing what he already does, not something he is going to start doing from this point on. Jesus does not challenge that narrative

Zacchaeus is already doing good. Maybe he is trying to change the system from within. Or maybe he realized some time ago that he could use his privilege and his wealth to make reparations, and he has been quietly doing this for years. But the lines have been drawn between rich and poor, the lines have been drawn between the good guys and the bad guys, between enemies and allies. We already know who is on our side and who is on the other side. We are suspicious of THEM. THEY must have an angle. THEY aren’t capable of change.

This is the hard part of the sermon, the part I didn’t want to preach. No doubt you have seen the pictures from yesterday, the incredible crowds across the country at Hands Off Rallies. Emmanuel was well-represented at the one in Albany. More than a dozen of us were there and maybe more who I don’t know about it. I saw the images last night, all across the internet. Mostly people were celebrating the exercise of free speech and being encouraged to know that so many are standing together against destructive power grab. But I also saw those same images being shared by people who represent a different point of view. I saw them shared by people who mock the demonstrators for being clueless or stupid or “Leftist Lunatics.”

I don’t know how this will end. It seems hard to imagine that the people of this country can find a way to unite around our previously cherished ideals of freedom and justice for all. Some are saying that it will take more violence, more economic pain, more destruction. Some remind us that organized evil will always win over disorganized righteousness, so we better start organizing.

Here's the hard place this story takes me: There has to be a place for mercy. There has to be a place for recognizing that your enemy might become your ally.

Let us be very clear: Jesus is not excusing evil. He is not glossing over exploitation or gaming the system. He is on his way to Jerusalem where he will be executed for speaking against injustice, for calling out oppression and systemic evil. If we're modeling our lives on Jesus, then we also have to name evil when we see it. We have to pray and hope and resist and act against it, even if we won't personally get to see the benefits. But at the same time, Jesus is merciful. Jesus is resolved to give his life in the fight against evil, but at the very same time, he is quick to listen and slow to judge a potential enemy.

Jesus once told his disciples to be wise as snakes and innocent as doves. That’s a hard place to stand. Call out evil, but be alert for good in surprising places. Pay attention to what is really going on. Stay sharp, but not so sharp that you cut others.

At the Alliance Gathering last week, one of the keynote speakers was Dr. Christena Cleveland, a womanist theologian. Womanism is that school of thought that is concerned with the intersection of being female and being black. That is a space where two marginalized identities meet. People who occupy that space, like Dr. Cleveland, are well aware of the cultural forces that would diminish and deprive them of rights and dignity. They know from personal experience. Referencing Dr. King, Dr. Cleveland said she believes that the moral arc of the universe bends towards love. She didn’t say justice. She said love. And her next words stuck with me. She said, “I am a stronger, softer, more courageous person when I believe that the arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards love.”

Stronger and softer and more courageous. That stuck with me.

Jesus was strong in his resolve, courageous approaching his execution and still soft as he dealt with people.

He was righteous and merciful and everything in between.

Wise as serpents and innocent as doves.

Stronger, softer and more courageous.

May it be so for you and me. Amen.

[1] Walter Brueggemann, “Vision that Trumps Violence” in The Collected Sermons of Walter Brueggemann, Vol 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2015), p. 235.

[2] DeLorme, Charles D.; Isom, Stacey; Kamerschen, David R. (10 April 2005). "Rent seeking and taxation in the Ancient Roman Empire". Applied Economics. 37 (6): 705–711.