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Scripture: Luke 19.1-10; Ezekiel 34.16


“In Israel, certain vocations carry a heavy social stigma,” writes John Ortberg. They were called the despised trades. They were “dirty jobs.” If there were television then, there may have been a show about them. No devout Jewish person would engage in them. Religious leaders would make lists of these jobs to warn people to choose a different career.

Some occupations are dishonorable. Others are just repugnant – like “tanner of dead skins” and “dung collector.” Dung collecting was a career choice. If a woman’s husband became a dung collector she actually had the right to divorce him and receive a sum of money. Even if she married him knowing he was going into that profession – in the words of one rabbi, she could say, “I thought I could endure it, but I cannot.”

There were a few occupations that were not merely unpleasant but considered immoral as well. People who practiced them were not only considered unpleasant but also immoral. They were to be shunned. Tax Collector is at the top of this short list.

Zacchaeus was the chief tax collector of the Jericho district. It’s ironic that his Hebrew name means “clean,” because that’s not how his neighbors saw him. Now, Jericho was a very prosperous city in a lush region of Palestine. Rome received a lot of tax money from Jericho. If you got a job as a tax collector here, you got rich. But you also got shunned. You were despised by your neighbors as a traitor and sell out to your people.
What made Zacchaeus choose a profession that would make him hated? It’s fair to assume, that after years of this, he was a thoroughly corrupt person.

And to this town where Zacchaeus lives comes a man who could not be more different in his life and motivation. Jesus is a good man in a good profession. First he was a carpenter and now a rabbi. If his reputation is less than what it could have been it’s only because Jesus persists in doing some strange things. He talks with sinners. This good rabbi, instead of shunning tax collectors, goes to their homes and eats with them. One of his disciples, Matthew Levi, was one such acquaintance.

Earlier in the gospel, (chapter 15) Luke tells us that “the tax collectors and sinners were all coming to Jesus to listen to him speak. And the Pharisees and others complained loudly and bitterly that Jesus was associating with these dirty people. But remember, Jesus’ motivation was different from most. He wasn’t concerned so much about his reputation. After this episode, Jesus wouldn’t have one.

His motivation can found in the prophetic passage:

“I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the crippled and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will watch over; I will feed them in justice.” Ezekiel 34.16

Jesus came looking for the lost. William Barclay reminds us that “lost” doesn’t only or necessarily mean “damned” or “doomed.” In the New Testament lost means in the wrong place. And when something is in the wrong place we return it to its proper place.

I have a reputation in my house of throwing things away. Sometimes I am accused of throwing things away that other members of the house still want. Sometimes they are right. But sometimes I have not thrown something away, but rather, put it back in its proper place. That’s why they can’t find it. When something is lost we put it back where it can be found.

That’s what Jesus is doing with Zacchaeus. The religious people in Jericho are upset because Jesus invites himself to the home of this sinner, which is a very personal thing to do. It was a sign of respect to eat a meal with someone.

Notice Jesus didn’t say, “Zacchaeus, if you clean up your act, change jobs, and make restitution, I’ll come to your house.” Jesus didn’t say anything like that. What he said was, “Zacchaeus, I must come to your house today.” That doesn’t make sense to the religious leaders who are only interested in keeping the shunning going. YOU’RE RUINING OUR SHUNNING, JESUS!

But if, however, you are interested in putting the lost back to a found position, then saying I must come to your house (where you live) is exactly the right thing to say.

Remember how we talked about a “Bar Code Faith” a few months back? Bar Code Faith is the kind where by some ritual or mental assent to a belief, God “scans” you and forgiveness floods forth. Our guilt is erased and some righteousness is deposited to our account. We are saved. The problem with Bar Code Faith is that it stops there. Salvation never means more than forgiveness and guilt-removal. People who claim Bar Code Faith say they have a Savior but don’t seem much interested in a Lord.

Notice what happens when Jesus declares his intention to come home with Zacchaeus.

“And Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, ‘Behold, Lord, the falf of my wealth I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold.”

“Fourfold” was the legal measure of restitution prescribed by the law of Moses in the Pentateuch. Steal a sheep? You must pay back four sheep in return. Then you can be right again. Zacchaeus is making restitution. No one has told him to do this but he does it.

It reminds me of something Dallas Willard wrote, “The law is never the source of goodness but it is always the channel by which goodness flows.”
I don’t know if Zacchaeus expected to meet a Savior that day, but I do know that he recognized his Lord. Zacchaeus made Jesus Lord that day and found a Savior as well.

We could learn a lot from that “wee little man.” It’s not until you make Jesus Lord that the true meaning of salvation comes home to you.


In our culture, we consider the measure of person in these terms: where they went to school, how much money they make, what kind of job they have, what they look like.

Zaccheus did something quite remarkable. He realized that what kind of person he was becoming was more important than anything else. And he acted on it.

Again, Dallas Willard writes, “I meet many faithful Christians who, in spite of their faith, are deeply disappointed in how their lives have turned out. They painfully puzzle over what they may have done wrong, or whether God has really been with them.”

But their failure is in realizing that their lives still lie before them. The life of “the flesh” matters little – what kind of person we become, well, that’s everything. The Lordship of Jesus is the only power that can heal the broken and put the lost back in their rightful place again. The power we receive when Jesus is Lord of our person is the only power that can transform us into sons and daughters of His Kingdom.