April 6, 2025: Calling In, Not Out

The Gospel Luke 19: 1-10

Zacchaeus was loathed by the society of Jericho. He was not just a tax collector, but the chief tax collector: he had become rich by taking from his Jewish people and serving the oppressive Roman government. There is an assumption here that he likely skimmed some off the top as well, enriching himself even further. 

But Zacchaeus was curious. He had heard of this Jesus movement and wanted to know who this Jesus was and what he was about. He was also vertically challenged, so he couldn’t see above the heads of the people in the crowds. So he climbed a tree to get a glimpse of this Jesus fellow and to hear what he had to say. 

Jesus must have felt Zacchaeus’ presence, because he looked up and invited himself over to Zacchaeus’ not just for dinner but to stay with him. “Zacchaeus hurry and come down for I must stay at your house today.”.

None of the righteous people who followed God’s laws were going to invite this guy Zacchaeus to dinner. For us it would be like inviting an oligarch or billionaire  whom we knew had made their money by oppressing others.

It would be a huge honor to have Jesus stay with you and I am sure there were many in that crowd who hoped their home would be blessed to host Jesus that night but Jesus chose to stay with the billionaire.

“What the heck?” the people in the crowd likely grumbled. “This guy is going to stay with a sinner when he could have stayed with me or him or her - the righteous people? Who is this guy?” As they continued to grumble, I imagine they are rethinking the whole idea of this Jesus person. “How can he possibly be righteous if he is going to hang out with this rich man who serves the enemy?”

They watched in mock horror as Zacchaeus scrambled down the tree and were shocked when he said to Jesus, “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.” 

“Wait, Jesus didn’t say anything except he is going to stay at this man’s house and yet Zacchaeus is already offering half of his possessions to the poor?” I imagine some in the crowd wondering aloud. “He might be poor after he pays back all he has defrauded times four!” another in the crowd might have commented.

I imagine that Jesus’ disciples were likely taken aback as well. But I bet they also began to see what Jesus was up to. “Oh, I get it,” one may have leaned towards another to whisper, “our radical leader is changing people through mercy rather than condemnation, again.” 

Jesus could have come from a place of righteous anger, as so many would, and have called Zaccheus out saying, “Confess sinner! Quit taking from your people to enrich yourself and this oppressive government!” Instead, he led with love by calling Zacchaeus in, likely planning to sit down at the dinner table and talk to him, to help him find a better path. But before he even gets a chance to do that, Zacchaeus’ heart has already been changed by the mere invitation: the honor of hosting Jesus. Zacchaeus immediately offers to share his wealth and to change his ways. This Jesus Effect shows that love and mercy are far more effective than righteous anger, condemnation, and vengeance. 

Zacchaeus was like the lost sheep in the parable last week. Jesus found him and brought him back into the fold, as he says to Zacchaeus, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham.” And it was not just Zacchaeus who was saved. Mercy and kindness always have a ripple effect: Zacchaeus’ whole family is saved and many poor people benefited from half of this rich man’s wealth.

“God has a really bad habit of using people we don’t approve of,” Rachel Held Evans once said adding. “What makes the gospel offensive is not who it keeps out, but who it lets in.” 

Could we do what Jesus did? Could we show kindness and mercy to people we disagree with, could we let them in? And if we could, might that kindness and mercy build a bridge or possibly inspire change in them, and maybe us?

Congressman and Civil Rights Activist John Lewis did show mercy and kindness and one particular story illustrates that very well. As Freedom Riders in 1961, Lewis and others were beaten by KKK members in a bus station in Rock Hill, South Carolina. Forty-eight years later, one of his attackers, Elwin Wilson, asked to meet with Congressman Lewis in Washington.

Lewis described the incident in his book, Across that Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America, this way:

Wilson had apologized to other Freedom Riders during ceremonies honoring them in South Carolina and had mentioned his wish to find the men he had beaten up that day in Rock Hill. I welcomed him to Washington and as we sat, Wilson looked deep into my eyes, searching my expression, and said he was the person who had beaten me in Rock Hill in May of 1961. He said, “I am sorry about what I did that day. Will you forgive me?” Without a moment of hesitation, I looked back at him and said, “I accept your apology.” The man who had physically and verbally assaulted me was now seeking my approval. This was a great testament to the power of love to overcome hatred.

Wilson has said publicly that he is glad to be able to count me as a friend today, and he has expressly mentioned his gratitude that we did not press charges that day. His life and the life of his family could have been changed forever if South Carolina had actually tried and convicted him. But beyond that, had he been tried, it would have added a layer of justification to the rationalization that always accompanies guilt. If he had been publicly vindicated, which would have been the likely outcome, it would have been more difficult for him to come to the point where he eventually believed an apology was in order, and more difficult for him to feel love.

Elwin Wilson also said that he was glad we did not have any weapons that day. If Albert Bigelow and I had inflicted harm in Rock Hill, we would have fueled the flames of violence instead of putting them out. Any sense of remorse would have had to compete with the fire of anger. Instead of a possible reconciliation, revenge would have been the product of that violent confrontation in Rock Hill. But because we met this man in love and offered him our respect despite his obvious hatred, it gave him nothing to justify his anger. He left that day only to review it in his mind so many times over the years. The resonance of our innocence made room in his own soul for the realization that he needed to ask for forgiveness. I was surprised to hear him clearly restate forty-eight years later the essence of what I had said to the police officer as I declined to press charges almost half a century earlier: “We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re here so that people will love each other.” That was how he put it. The impact we left was undeniable.
Lewis did not call Wilson out in 1961 or in 2009 even though he had every right to. It certainly would have been righteous anger for the beating he received for his peaceful protest as he sought equity for people of color in our country. He expressed instead, the essence of calling in, “We’re here so that people will love each other.”

Lewis and the other civil rights protesters led with love and received hate yet they planted a seed that grew into our civil rights laws and, after many years, grew a changed heart for Elwin Wilson and, hopefully, others. 
Jesus and John Lewis called people in rather than out and that made all the difference. 

There will always be people we disagree with. There will probably always be people who lead with hate rather than love. But that is not who we are called to be. 

Jesus is calling us in. He is showing us through the model of his life to lead with love, mercy, and kindness as John Lewis did. Their actions remind us that everyone has a story and we do not know all those stories. By calling people in, inviting them to the table, we might just learn something that changes them and us.

Consider who you might call in. Rather than attacking in anger, even righteous anger or judging someone over a difference or a mistake, imagine sharing a dinner with them. Eating with someone, sharing a table, is an intimate act, especially if you invite the person into your home. Not everyone is invited in. It is a lot of work to clean, prepare the food, and consider conversation topics. 

Picture eating with someone whose ideological and spiritual beliefs are very different from your own, maybe even polar opposite. Where might you find common ground? Maybe in enjoying the food or talking about your families? Picturing that alone, even if we never have the opportunity to do it, forces us to acknowledge their humanity, to consider ways to build bridges. Actually doing it, gives us a chance to better understand others and help them better understand us. 

Mercy and kindness plant seeds even if those seeds take many years to grow as John Lewis learned.  

Jesus planted many seeds by calling people in through his mercy and we are called to do so as well.

At a recent protest, someone who had different views from the protesters drove by and yelled something negative. One of the protesters yelled back, “We love you anyway!”

Love anyway - that is the Jesus way.  Amen.

Pastor Michelle Fountain

(John Lewis photo provided by Wikipedia)

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