Luke 19:01-10
Overcoming the Crowd
by Rev. Joseph N. Rampino
Reprinted with permission of "The Arlington Catholic
Herald"
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Written to explain that
Christ came to save everyone.
Entering Jericho, he passed through the city. There was a man there named Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector and a wealthy man, but being small of stature, was unable to do so because of the crowd. He first ran on in front, then climbed a sycamore tree which was along Jesus' route, in order to see him. When Jesus came to the spot he looked up and said, "Zacchaeus, hurry down. I mean to stay at your house today." He quickly descended, and welcomed him with delight. When this was observed, everyone began to murmur, "He has gone to a sinner's house as a guest."
Zacchaeus stood his ground and said to the Lord: "I give half my belongings, Lord, to the poor. If I have defrauded anyone in the least, I pay him back four-fold." Jesus said to him: "Today salvation has come to this house, for this is what it means to be a son of Abraham. The Son of Man has come to search out and save what was lost."
Across from Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa,” in the most famous gallery of Paris’ Louvre Museum, another, much larger painting teaches a spiritual lesson deeply consonant with this weekend’s Gospel. Veronese's “Wedding at Cana” presents a riot of people, movement and color, depicting the first of Jesus’ miracles on a canvas 20 feet high and 30 feet across. With more than 100 individuals depicted, each in the middle of some action or another, the painting can overwhelm, and it is not immediately clear what is happening, what story is being told. Only once the eye finds the figure of Jesus, seated calmly in the center of all the chaos and tumult, does everything come together, and the working of God’s grab in the scene come to light. Until that point, the painting remains lovely chaos — but after it, it’s an image of the Lord calling through the noise.
The Gospel today presents us with the figure of Zacchaeus, who also has to overcome an otherwise overwhelming situation in order to meet Christ. The text tells us that Zacchaeus, the unjust tax collector, was of short stature and could not see past the great crowd surrounding Jesus. Of course, ancient commenters tell us that more than the physical crowd stands in his way; the great crowd of all his sins obscure his sight. So then, everything hinges on whether or not Zacchaeus can find a way past the crowd. He makes that all-important decision, climbs the sycamore tree, and immediately, Christ calls and forgives him, drawing out of the tax collector’s heart both repentance and reparation for all his sins. Tradition confirms that it is that choice to climb and see Jesus at whatever cost, rather than the acts of reparation, that represents the true conversion of Zacchaeus. His desire to give everything he has, half in donation and half in reparation, simply manifests what already took place in the moment he sought the Lord. Everything is decided the second he chooses to find a way past the crowd, wishing to look at Jesus face to face.
Our lives can often mirror both the great painting and the Gospel story. We find ourselves frequently surrounded by a great crowd of things that can overwhelm us and obscure our view of Christ. That crowd might come in the form of worries, tasks to accomplish, news stories, demands of work, demands of home life, personal crises, goals and plans, social obligations, daydreams, insecurities, and a thousand other things. We might even have to face the crowd of our own sins, either present or long past. It can seem almost impossible to meet Jesus when crowds such as these press upon us, and we may grow discouraged. In order to find freedom and peace, we too must find a way to see through or over the crowd. We must breathe deep and look to the center of the painting or climb the sycamore tree to meet the eyes of God.
Practically speaking, we overcome our own crowds whenever we take time for prayer and reflection. We might spend 20 or 30 minutes speaking with Christ in our hearts, considering the Scriptures, or reading a sound spiritual book, but one way or another we must provide ourselves that time which pierces through the swarm of worldly concerns. We have to let our troubles and demands fade into the background for a while so that we can meet God’s eyes. When that happens, our souls, like that of Zacchaeus, awaken, change, grow in faith, hope, and love, and begin to taste the joy of God’s eternal gaze in heaven itself.
Jesus entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him. She had a sister named Mary who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak. Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me." The Lord said to her in reply, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her."
Let’s pause from our everyday concerns and take a moment to marvel at God’s extravagant love. Two manifestations of God’s extravagant love stand out in our readings today. The first is the gift given to Abraham and Sarah. Abraham, our father in faith, and his wife Sarah were granted a promise from God that seemed impossible to fulfill. God vowed that their descendants would be as numerous as stars in the sky or the sands on the seashore. The problem was twofold: Abraham and Sarah were both barren and beyond child-bearing years. How could God fulfill his promise?
Jesus entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him. She had a sister named Mary who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak. Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me." The Lord said to her in reply, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her."
Let’s pause from our everyday concerns and take a moment to marvel at God’s extravagant love. Two manifestations of God’s extravagant love stand out in our readings today. The first is the gift given to Abraham and Sarah. Abraham, our father in faith, and his wife Sarah were granted a promise from God that seemed impossible to fulfill. God vowed that their descendants would be as numerous as stars in the sky or the sands on the seashore. The problem was twofold: Abraham and Sarah were both barren and beyond child-bearing years. How could God fulfill his promise?
Overcoming the crowd
Across from Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa,” in the most famous gallery of Paris’ Louvre Museum, another, much larger painting teaches a spiritual lesson deeply consonant with this weekend’s Gospel. Veronese’s “Wedding at Cana” presents a riot of people, movement and color, depicting the first of Jesus’ miracles on a canvas 20 feet high and 30 feet across. With more than 100 individuals depicted, each in the middle of some action or another, the painting can overwhelm, and it is not immediately clear what is happening, what story is being told. Only once the eye finds the figure of Jesus, seated calmly in the center of all the chaos and tumult, does everything come together, and the working of God’s grab in the scene come to light. Until that point, the painting remains lovely chaos — but after it, it’s an image of the Lord calling through the noise.
The Gospel today presents us with the figure of Zacchaeus, who also has to overcome an otherwise overwhelming situation in order to meet Christ. The text tells us that Zacchaeus, the unjust tax collector, was of short stature and could not see past the great crowd surrounding Jesus. Of course, ancient commenters tell us that more than the physical crowd stands in his way; the great crowd of all his sins obscure his sight. So then, everything hinges on whether or not Zacchaeus can find a way past the crowd. He makes that all-important decision, climbs the sycamore tree, and immediately, Christ calls and forgives him, drawing out of the tax collector’s heart both repentance and reparation for all his sins. Tradition confirms that it is that choice to climb and see Jesus at whatever cost, rather than the acts of reparation, that represents the true conversion of Zacchaeus. His desire to give everything he has, half in donation and half in reparation, simply manifests what already took place in the moment he sought the Lord. Everything is decided the second he chooses to find a way past the crowd, wishing to look at Jesus face to face.
Our lives can often mirror both the great painting and the Gospel story. We find ourselves frequently surrounded by a great crowd of things that can overwhelm us and obscure our view of Christ. That crowd might come in the form of worries, tasks to accomplish, news stories, demands of work, demands of home life, personal crises, goals and plans, social obligations, daydreams, insecurities, and a thousand other things. We might even have to face the crowd of our own sins, either present or long past. It can seem almost impossible to meet Jesus when crowds such as these press upon us, and we may grow discouraged. In order to find freedom and peace, we too must find a way to see through or over the crowd. We must breathe deep and look to the center of the painting or climb the sycamore tree to meet the eyes of God.
Practically speaking, we overcome our own crowds whenever we take time for prayer and reflection. We might spend 20 or 30 minutes speaking with Christ in our hearts, considering the Scriptures, or reading a sound spiritual book, but one way or another we must provide ourselves that time which pierces through the swarm of worldly concerns. We have to let our troubles and demands fade into the background for a while so that we can meet God’s eyes. When that happens, our souls, like that of Zacchaeus, awaken, change, grow in faith, hope, and love, and begin to taste the joy of God’s eternal gaze in heaven itself.
Fr. Rampino is parochial vicar of St. Ambrose Church in Annandale.