Climbing Down from our Tree
“Now a man there named Zachaeus, who was a tax-collector and a wealthy man, was seeking to see who Jesus was.” (Luke 19:2.)
I’ve always thought of Zachaeus as an example of an instant conversion experience. Like Saint Paul and Augustine of Hippo, one minute his life was a mess, and then all was put right. In the case of Zachaeus, he was despised as a tax-collector and a collaborator with the Romans. All assumed he had been dishonest, and Zachaeus implied as much when he met Jesus. There was plenty for which he had to atone.
Then, in the next scene Zachaeus hosted Jesus at his home. Almost in an instant he repented of everything and put on a new life. It was out with the old man and in with the new.
It’s a great story, and the drama of a life turned around in an instant is intriguing. Yet, we ought not overlook what likely happened deep within Zachaeus. First, the about-face may seem sudden to us, but he had been stewing about the meaning of his life for a while. He had been looking for something. Something was missing from his life; and when Jesus invited him down from the tree Zachaeus was more than ready to make the leap. What Jesus offered was merely the final nudge for which he had been waiting.
It would also be a mistake to write off Zachaeus’ life up to that point as a total waste of time. I say that because Zachaeus had for quite a while pondered the course of his life. On the one hand he had become painfully aware of his sins and mistakes. On the other he contended with an emptiness and absence of meaning. Something was missing, and when Jesus stood at the base of the tree the missing piece of the puzzle suddenly snapped into place. A conversion experience that likely had been slow and laborious suddenly had clarity and direction.
Perhaps that provides a nugget of insight into our current situation. It’s tough for people who walk in the steps of Jesus Christ to sit still. As people who live by the Beatitudes we’re committed to serving others. When we don’t or can’t, something seems missing — sometimes painfully so.
For most of us it’s been quite a while since we’ve been on the front lines in service to others. We can’t reach out to strangers like we had done so easily before. With masks on we can’t even offer a smile to the one who needs to see it most. We sometimes haven’t even been able to go to church. For people accustomed to being busy this has been painful, and perhaps we’ve even felt useless at times.
But we should not dismiss these past few months as a waste of time. These months have in fact been our time in the desert. They have been our time to heal, to grow and to prepare to climb back down out of our own tree, as did Zachaeus. It’s our time to prepare ourselves to get ready for the business of life. All the same, however, we need to remember that for the last eight months we’ve actually been about the business of life.
It’s good for us to recall that Jesus spent forty days in the desert in fasting and prayer. Was it a total waste of his time? After all, there was so much for Jesus to do. Yet, when called to act he had the courage to remind his mother than his time had not yet come.
Before we bemoan our isolation too much, it’s good to pause and give thanks for our own time in the desert. This too will pass, but this time is also a gift from God. It’s our time for preparation and renewal. It’s no time to despair or give up, because like Jesus our time will come. And when that time finally comes, we will be ready to act as never before. With clarity and conviction we will climb down from our tree and once again be the hands of Christ, doing his work in our corner of the world.
NOTES
+On November 17th I participated in a meeting of the Regent’s Council of the Subpriory of Our Lady of Philermo of the Order of Malta. Later that evening I celebrated Mass for the annual meeting of the San Francisco area of the Order of Malta. All this was done via zoom, and today’s post is a slightly amended version of the sermon that I delivered.
+November 19th can only be described as insanely crazy here at Saint John’s. I spent quite a bit of my day in zoom meetings, while around me Saint John’s University and Saint John’s Preparatory School and the monastery were on lock-down from 10 am to 6:15 pm. The day began with a high-speed car chase on I-94, and the state patrol managed to stop the driver at the north end of our property. There the driver assaulted the officer and ran into our woods. He made his way to the prep school, where he robbed a student and tried to steal his car. Then, until his final surrender at 6:15 pm, a retinue of twelve police jurisdictions with ca. 200 officers secured our property and buildings, while drones searched the woods from above. The highlight for me was opening my door in the monastery to see four officers in fatigues and carrying weapons, there to check our rooms. I thanked them for protecting us and wished them well — and it was a heartfelt greeting! There was a certain irony about all this, however. For eight months of corona-virus we had never missed Mass for a single day in the abbey church. But for this day, on the advice of the police, the abbot had to cancel Mass. It was all stranger than fiction.
+On November 20th I participated in the annual retreat of the Board of Trustees of Sacred Heart Schools in Atherton, CA.
+We ended the week with a moment of the sublime. On November 21st Brother Jacob gave an organ recital as part of his MA in Theology with a concentration in church music. It was the first concert using our expanded Holtkamp-Pasi organ, and it was a real tour de force. The 36-inch pipes made in the woodworking shop at Saint John’s performed as planned, and at one point my spine vibrated for as much as thirty seconds. Brother Jacob earned his MA that day!
+The Mass via zoom on November 19th took place in Saint Francis Chapel, which campus ministry makes use of for student Masses, Eucharistic adoration, rosaries and an occasional morning or evening prayer. It is located in the garden adjacent to Saint Francis House, which is a student residence tucked away in the southwest part of the campus at Saint John’s. The photos in todays post show the chapel and the garden in which it sits.