I have always found it easy to identify with
Zacchaeus. I’ve spent half my life standing on tip-toe to see
above the crowds. I did it a couple of weeks ago in St. Peter’s Square
at the Canonization of Cardinal Newman, trying to get a glimpse of Pope
Francis. So it’s not at all difficult for me to feel a certain kinship
with Zacchaeus the tax collector who had to climb a tree in order to see
Jesus.
But it’s really not Zacchaeus’ stature that’s
important, of course. It’s his story. And that’s something
each one of us should be able to identify with. The Zacchaeus
story is the story of one person’s journey of faith but it’s probably
not all that different from yours or mine.
You can identify, can’t you, with Zacchaeus’
very cautious and tentative approach to Jesus? All he wants is to
get a look at Jesus, nothing more. Climbing a sycamore tree gives
him a vantage point but it also allows him to keep a safe distance.
He can hide among the leaves. Or so he thinks. It’s a little
like Dorothy Day whom I talked about last week: remember how her
curiosity brought her to old St. Joseph’s Church in New York? But
only to the back pew? The back pew was Dorothy Day’s sycamore
tree. But what happened in the back pew, and what happened in the
sycamore tree is what counts: Jesus comes along. Jesus found
Dorothy Day in her back pew just as he found Zacchaeus peering carefully
through the leaves and branches of his tree.
For both of them, the journey of faith began
with curiosity, a desire just to catch a glimpse, but Jesus didn’t leave
it at that. He found a way to get through. He gently forced
a meeting, a moment of truth. “Zaccheus, hurry up and come down.
I mean to stay at your house today!” And the meeting – the meeting
brought great joy and, even more importantly, it brought about
conversion, a profound change of life. “Behold, Lord, the half of
my goods I give to the poor.” Zacchaeus, the miserly little tax
collector, must have been amazed to hear himself saying those words.
He could not have expected he’d be saying them when he climbed that
tree!
My friends, as with all the gospel stories, we
are invited to see our own story in the story of Zacchaeus. Are
you someone who has been hiding in the security of a tree, content to
look at Jesus from afar, and just as content not to get very involved
with him? If so, perhaps Jesus is looking up at you now, inviting
you down, letting you know that he wants to stay at your house. What is
your response going to be? Could this be a conversion moment for you as
it was for Zacchaeus?
This weekend, there’s a particular kind of
conversion I want to ask you to consider. I want to ask you – and I’m
asking myself, as well - to take a fresh look at one aspect of your life
of faith: the way you contribute to the support of the Church. I can
here you saying to yourself, he’s going to give us the money pitch.
And I guess I am, but this is really more about faith than about money.
So there’s a question I’d like you to ask yourselves: what does my
giving say about my faith? What does my giving say about where my faith
fits among my priorities? What does my giving say about what I really
regard as important?
Now, I need to tell you that I feel awkward
talking about giving - partly because many of you are so very generous,
partly because I just don’t like to talk about money. But I also feel
confident about my task and let me tell you why.
I feel confident about asking you to take a
prayerful look at your giving to the Church because I know you are
people of faith and that you care about what’s really important in life.
I feel confident because I know that you are
aware of where your blessings in life come from – that they are always,
always gifts from God – entrusted to you by a loving and provident God
not to be hoarded or hidden away, but to be used wisely and to be shared
generously.
I feel confident because I have the advantage
of having known you for many years. I know that you really believe that
it is “more blessed to give than to receive,” and I know that you love
this cathedral, this parish and that you want it to continue to be
second to none in this community: a beacon on this hill, a place where
God is praised in beautiful liturgies and where God’s poor are served
each day through an amazing array of outreach ministries.
I feel confident to ask you to renew your
annual sacrificial giving pledge – or to make a pledge for the first
time – because I know that if God has blessed you with considerable
financial resources you will want to share them, and if God has not so
blessed you, you will still find joy and meaning by giving modestly like
the poor widow of the gospel.
Years ago I received a letter from a retired
university professor. In it he enclosed a sizeable check to assist with
our cathedral outreach ministries. His letter was brief. “I
used to think this was my money,” he wrote, “but no longer. It’s
God’s. And God’s dough is to be used for God’s work.” He
concluded with a P.S.: “No acknowledgment, please. I try not to let the
left hand know what the right hand is doing.” Pretty amazing. I
thought to myself: here is someone who has allowed himself to be
converted as Zacchaeus was. And he is not alone. There are many of you
in the pews this morning/evening who would say the same. So, yes, I do
feel confident!
My friends, sacrificial giving means giving in
faith. For some it means a few dollars; for others, it means
thousands of dollars. The amount is less important than the
sacrifice. If it costs you to give – really costs you – then your
gift will be worthy of you and, more importantly, it will be worthy to
be offered to God. That’s what your gift is, and that’s why we
carry it to the altar along with the bread and wine for the Eucharist.
It’s a sacred thing and a serious thing. So I guess the question for us
to ask ourselves is: when I place my gift in the basket, can I honestly
say, ‘this is the very best I can give you, Lord?’
Of course, if you’re on a fixed income, that’s one
thing. I totally get that. But if you’re one of the many – and I do mean
many – who have gone on autopilot with respect to your giving, who are
still giving at the same level you’ve given at for years when everything
else has changed, including your salary and your cost of living, and
maybe your investments, then you may need a conversion with regard to
your giving. The same is true for those of you who are barely
giving at all – except, perhaps, for a token dollar or two when the
collection basket comes around.
I’m going to conclude where I began: with
Zacchaeus, the patron saint of all of us who might be hesitating,
holding back, looking at Jesus from a safe distance. Could that be you?
If so, Jesus could be looking up at you, inviting you to come down,
inviting you to conversion, letting you know that he wants to stay at
your house today!
Father Michael G. Ryan
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