Everything in Between: Righteousness and Mercy

Sermon from Sunday, April 6, 2025 at 9:30am

The Rev. Megan Collins

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Did you ever read those Choose Your Own Adventure books when you were a kid?

They were awesome. For those of you that did not read them, they were written as non-linear stories that let you, as the reader, be in charge of the narrative based on a decision tree. You’re reading along, and suddenly you hit a moment of decision and the book says something like: 

If you follow the mysterious noise, turn to page 42.

 If you stay where you are, turn to page 17.

Some of the choices were a bit more involved: 

If you decide to fight the squid with your spear gun, hoping to scare it off, turn to page 17.

If you decide to signal Maray to pull you up at top speed, knowing you will get the bends, turn to page 19."

That one is from Choose Your Own Adventure: Journey Under the Sea.  Each choice took you somewhere new. But a lot of the time it ended up pretty bleak:

The hours stretch into days; the days stretch into weeks. Now you have waited so long that the computer tells you your chances of surviving hibernation are nearly zero. You can only hope that somehow your crystal ship will reach the new planet before you grow old and die ... But the months go by and nothing changes. You grow more and more depressed as you sit and wait, and finally, disoriented by the incredible loneliness of outer space, you lose all will to survive.

These endings were the reason that we all learned to keep our finger in the last page we had read before the decision. If you didn’t like where you ended up, then you could turn back to the previous page you were on, and make the other choice. Today’s sermon will be like a “choose your own adventure” book. (Hopefully we won’t end up being disoriented by the loneliness of space and lose all will to survive). But in the story we will read today, which comes from the gospel of Luke, there are actually two stories to be told, two different paths to be taken, a decision to be made on where we will locate ourselves in the story. One way is pretty straightforward. We are Zaccheus. The other is a bit more complicated. We are the crowds. But as tempting as it would be to just take the straightforward choice, I think we need to take both, and see where we end up. 

We’re in a sermon series called Everything in Between. As we look at the story today, it seems Jesus knew that at any given time, we are Zacchaeus or we are the crowd, we are seeking righteousness, or we are seeking mercy, or we are somewhere in between. Perhaps he told this story with the intention that there wouldn’t be just one teaching in this text, but two. Let’s read from the gospel of Luke 19:1-10:

He entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax-collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycomore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’ So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.’ Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, ‘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.’ Then Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’

Then, if this was a choose your own Adventure book, Jesus would have said this:

Flip to page 9 if you are Zacchaeus, if you want the comforting, hopeful story about how God’s grace is big enough to reach you—even when you’ve messed up. 

Flip to page 11 if you are the crowd,  if you want to hear how Jesus is challenging us to believe that even the people we don’t like, the ones who’ve done real harm, can be changed too, and how we might have to even help make that happen. 

Let’s start with the easier one, and flip to page 9. But, as much as we don’t want to, keep your thumb on the page, because we are going to come back and go to page 11 in just a minute.  But first, flip to Page 9.

You are Zaccheus. 

Jesus is passing through Jericho, and you’ve heard the rumors—this man heals, he teaches things no one has heard before, he eats with sinners. You want to see him. You need to see him. But the crowd is thick, and you’re too short to get even a glimpse. So you do something pretty undignified: you run ahead and you climb a tree. Grown ups don’t climb trees. But you don’t care what people think. You just want to see Jesus. Then—he stops. Right beneath your tree. He looks up. At you. And says your name. “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down. I must stay at your house today.” Your heart leaps in your chest. He chose you. He’s coming to your house. You scramble down the tree to welcome him.  Then you hear it—the muttering around you. The crowd is grumbling.They say, “He’s going to the house of a sinner.”

Suddenly, you feel the weight of who you’ve been. The choices you’ve made. The people you’ve hurt. You know they’re not wrong. Before you know it, you are speaking: “Lord—I’ve made some mistakes, some big ones. But today I want to be different. So half of everything I own I give to the poor. And if I’ve cheated anyone, I’ll pay them back four times as much.”

Jesus looks at you—not with suspicion, but with compassion. And he says,“Salvation has come to this house. You are a child of the covenant. The Son of Man came to seek and save the lost.” And you realize… that includes you.

Page 9 is pretty great. It’s such good news. And it’s absolutely true. 

Maybe you’ve made choices you’re not proud of. Maybe you’ve been part of something that hurt someone else, or even hurt a lot of someone else’s. You have regrets and while you’ve heard that Jesus forgives, you weren’t sure that really meant you. 

Then Jesus looks up. He sees you. Not just your past. Not just your mistakes. He sees your longing. Your potential. Your soul.And he says, “Climb on down—I’m staying with you today.” You realize not only are you forgiven, but you are given a second chance. An opportunity to try again, and maybe get it right this time.You know you can’t undo the harm you have done, but you are ready to do whatever you can to help the people you have hurt. You begin to see that salvation is not just a ticket to heaven but a promise of transformation, an opportunity to make things right.

Jesus is offering you is healing, restoration, forgiveness, transformation.

Jesus can change your life today, if you let him, if you just come down out of the tree. 

That's good news, and I love to preach that story.

But . . .  remember how we kept our thumb on the page?

Let’s go back: “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’”

Flip to page 9 if you are Zacchaeus, if you want the comforting, hopeful story about how God’s grace is big enough to reach you—even when you’ve messed up. 

Flip to page 11 if you are the crowd,  if you want to hear how Jesus is challenging us to believe that even the people we don’t like, the ones who’ve done real harm can be changed too. And we might just be called to help make that happen.

Flip to page 11.

You are the crowd. 

“Jesus is coming through town, and everyone’s talking about him. You’re part of the group that’s gathered—hoping to see something, to hear something, to feel like maybe God hasn’t forgotten your city, your country. Then you see him. Zacchaeus. That traitor. That collaborator. The chief tax collector, the guy with all the power and all the wealth, the one who’s gotten rich while the rest of you suffer. The one who is making life miserable for the regular people, the people who did nothing to deserve it.  And what is he doing? Climbing a tree like a child. Like he thinks he belongs here with the rest of you. You don’t say anything, but you see him. You feel the injustice of him being there after everything he has done. And when Jesus stops, you hold your breath, hoping he’ll say what you’ve wanted someone to say for years. Let him have it, Jesus.  Jesus looks up. And he says,“Zacchaeus, hurry and come down. I must stay at your house today.”

Wait. What?

You watch him scramble down, grinning like a fool. You start to grumble. So does everyone else.“He’s gone to be the guest of a sinner,” you whisper. Because you know what Zacchaeus has done. You know how many people he’s hurt. You know he’s an active part of the system that is keeping you and the people you love afraid. And now Jesus—your prophet, your healer, your hope—is going to his house? It doesn’t feel right.It doesn’t feel fair. It doesn’t feel holy. Then you hear Zacchaeus speak.  “Half my possessions I give to the poor. And anyone I’ve defrauded—I’ll pay back four times over.” You look at Zacchaeus again—and start to wonder if maybe, just maybe… people really can change if they come face to face with Jesus. Even someone him.

Page 11: You are the crowd.

This is the sermon, if I’m honest, that I don’t want to preach. 

When Jesus goes to be with Zaccheus, the crowd grumbles. And I get it. 

Because I love when Jesus gives grace to people who have just made a few bad decisions. People who were trying to do the right thing but messed up along the way, or gave into temptation a couple of times.  But Zacchaeus wasn’t just a guy who made a few bad decisions. He was a chief tax collector. He was a collaborator with the evils of the Roman Empire. Tax collectors didn’t just take what was owed to the government. They took extra, and pocketed the rest. He was taking money from his own people. He was building a system of exploitation and injustice and profiting from it.  The crowd has every reason to be angry.Jesus going to his house? Jesus offering him salvation? That doesn’t feel fair. I don’t like that at all.

This is the moment as a kid that I would have flipped back and tried another option in the story.  It’s hard to fathom that God’s grace really is for everyone - even the people we think don’t deserve it.  It can be hard for us to really believe that not only can God forgive those people, but that God could actually change them. 

But what if God’s grace really is for everyone?

And what if God really can change people, even the worst people?

What if God can change them not just in a “they squeak by and get into heaven” kind of way but in a “Jesus changed their lives and they gave away half their wealth and try to repair what they broke” kind of way?

Now Jesus doesn’t say what Zacchaeus did doesn’t matter. In fact, by calling Zacchaeus out of the tree he shows it matters so much that it can’t be ignored. It must be transformed.

But Zaccheus receives God’s grace, inspite of all the people that he hurt.  And that’s why when Zaccehus climbs down the tree, he climbs into my heart and I admittedly don’t like it.  Because I love that God’s grace is enough for you and for me.  But when God’s grace is enough to save really bad people who are doing really bad thing in our world right now? When God’s grace is enough to save and then change people who are holding us hostage to their greed and chaos? 

“For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

If you thought the grace part was hard to accept, here’s the next choice in our choose your own adventure for today:

Turn to page 34 if you want to ignore how big God’s grace is and think it’s only for medium bad people not really bad people, maybe for you but definitely not for someone like them.

Turn to page 53 if you want to, admittedly somewhat reluctantly, find out how you can be a part of God’s work with people like Zacchaeus. 

Ugh. Page 53.

If we can believe that God’s grace is enough for everyone (and it is).

And if we can believe that God can really change anyone’s heart (and God can).

And if we can believe that if God can change their heart God will also change their life (and it will).

And if we can believe that when people change their life it will bring good things to the people they have hurt (and it will).

And if we can believe that God changes people through other people (and God does)

Then we might have to be a part of this work. (no thanks).

But friends, Jesus was there when Zacchaeus climbed down out of the tree.

It’s easy for us to be in the crowd, to watch someone from far away and criticize their decisions, to maybe even go so far as to pray for God to change them, but that’s the best we can do.  It’s a lot harder to step to the bottom of the tree. To be the person standing there when God moves in someone’s life and gets them to climb down from the tree to meet Jesus, when they’re deciding to turn around their life.  Jesus didn’t leave Zacchaeus to figure it out on his own. He waited for him at the tree. He walked with him. He went to his house. and He stayed.

We aren’t ever going to be as good as Jesus. But if we really believe Jesus can change people, we might have to break out of the crowd and start waiting at the base of the tree to be there, to walk with them, to stay with them. Somebody has to be there when Zacchaeus climbs down. Somebody has to be willing to do the hard work of walking with someone as they change, to believe in their transformation when everyone else is still holding onto their past mistakes. This is the part we often don’t want. The part where we’re asked to walk with people we’re frustrated with, who we know have hurt other people. But that’s the work of salvation.

Page 9 is absolutely true. You are Zacchaeus. Jesus forgives you for whatever you have done, and will turn your life around so that you can be different. 

Page 11 is also true. That same grace Jesus gave to you, it’s also for them. Jesus can change their hearts and their lives too. 

And Page 53? It’s hard work. But there is someone in your life who is thinking about climbing out of a tree, right now. You might need to be the one waiting there with Jesus when they do - not to remind them of all they did wrong, but to show them a better way forward through the transforming power of Christ.