JESUS ENTERED JERICHO and was passing through. 2A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. 3He wanted to see who Jesus was, but being a short man he could not, because of the crowd. 4So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.
5When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” 6So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
7All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a ‘sinner.’”
8But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
9Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. 10For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.”
Original Meaning
LIKE THE BLIND man whom Jesus healed while entering Jericho, the Zacchaeus episode (unique to Luke) portrays response to salvation. Here is a man who is sought and saved by the Son of Man (v. 10).
Zacchaeus is a “chief tax collector,” which means he stands at the top of the collection pyramid, taking a cut of commission from those who collected taxes for him.1 He is therefore a wealthy man, though many consider his wealth ill-gotten. This cultural background is important in appreciating the crowd’s reaction to Jesus’ encounter with him.
As Jesus moves through Jericho, Zacchaeus longs to see the famous teacher, but his short stature and the crowd prevent him from doing so. But he is resourceful, so he runs ahead and climbs a sycamore tree, a tree with a short trunk and wide, lateral branches. Jesus breaks the ice by noticing Zacchaeus in the tree. He stops and tells him to come down out of the tree, because he “must” (dei) stay at his house today. Jesus’ stay with the tax collector is a necessity because it pictures what his ministry is all about—to lead to God those whom others have given up on, to call those who, like the tax collector Levi, need to repent (5:31–32). His mission is to reclaim the prodigals (ch. 15) and justify the humble (18:9–14).
Zacchaeus welcomes Jesus gladly. One who has simply sought to get a glimpse of the teacher now gets to meet him face to face. His development of intimacy with Jesus underscores how one who approaches God on the Lord’s terms gets more than he or she may have expected.
The reaction to Jesus’ choice for a host does not meet with popular approval. The religious leaders judge that Jesus has chosen to be “the guest of a ‘sinner,’” and they “begin to mutter” (diegongyzon, a verb like the one used of the Israelites when they complained about being in the desert after the Exodus [Ex. 16:7; 17:3; Num. 11:1; 14:27–29; cf. also Luke 15:2]).2 Their complaint is both right and wrong. Zacchaeus is indeed a sinner, as his own remarks will show, but he is not beyond the touch of God or his call. But like the Pharisee who had given up on the sinful woman in Luke 7:36–50, so this crowd has written off Zacchaeus. But Jesus does not write off those who remain open to God. Jesus’ visit with Zacchaeus reveals his acceptance of the tax collector. He does not worry about the impression on his testimony this association makes, because his priority is to associate closely enough with the lost that they may come to know the grace of God.
Zacchaeus expresses his appreciation of Jesus’ acceptance of him by declaring his intent to be a different man. Because of his new relationship with God, he will do two things: Half of his possessions will now go to the poor, and those he has wronged will receive restitution at four times the amount taken. He is aware of his sin and desires to right the wrongs he has done. Both actions stand out in light of cultural expectations. If later Judaism is any guide, it was considered generous to give away twenty percent of one’s possessions.3 And the restitution Zacchaeus notes is better than the highest standard set by the law (Lev. 5:16; Num. 5:7). He actually penalizes himself with the standard required of rustlers (Ex. 22:1; 2 Sam. 12:6). As Ellis notes, this is the “thank offering of a changed heart.”4 In Zacchaeus’s changed heart, love for God expresses itself in love for others.
Giving away half of one’s possessions, which Jesus commends here, shows that other texts where Jesus calls for people to sell everything (18:22) serve as a rhetorical way of stating that one should see their possessions as under the stewardship of God. What God gives is to be used for others (Eph. 4:28). That Zacchaeus understands this call is demonstrated by his giving alms and his intention to make restitution. Treasure in heaven is more important than hoarding earthly resources. The resources we possess are the Lord’s, and he guides us in how we are to use them. As we grow in the Lord, we must place resources into his service rather than into our service (cf. Rom. 12:8). Such giving as Zacchaeus intends is not required by God’s law, but does reflects a heart given over to God.
Jesus endorses the response fully, noting that this very day “salvation has come to [Zacchaeus’s] house.” This statement testifies to a heart changed by the presence of God. The Lord has been reclaiming a formerly lost child. Zacchaeus is truly now a son of Abraham—what Paul calls a child of faith (Rom. 4; Gal. 3). Even more exciting is the explanation of what this tax collector’s return represents in verse 10. Jesus as Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost. He has taken the initiative to point to Zacchaeus as a man who can know God’s acceptance, and the tax collector has embraced the opportunity. As Luke 15:1–10 argues, one suspects heaven fully celebrated his return.
Bridging Contexts
THIS TEXT, AS so many others in this latter section of Luke’s journey material, reveals basic attitudes about how God responds to the humble and to those who recognize that the way they have walked is wrong. His commitment to sinners has been affirmed throughout this Gospel (5:31–32; 7:29–35; 15:1–32). This text pictures the initiative Jesus undertakes to reveal this divine commitment. God reaches out to accept the sinner who discovers he or she can turn to God.
Zacchaeus demonstrates how one should respond to the gospel of Jesus. After recognizing his failures, he not only confesses them publicly but seeks to make appropriate restitution for the wrongs he has done. Moreover, he embarks on a new, more giving approach to life. The transformation of his heart in openness toward God expresses itself in openness toward needy people. Such faith is not an intellectual exercise; it is a change of worldview. Jesus enthusiastically commends what takes place here, similar to his comments on the faith of the centurion in 7:1–10 and of the Samaritan in 17:11–17. Zacchaeus is another “outsider” who has turned out to be an “insider” by God’s grace.
Furthermore, we are warned by this passage that how our community judges us in our associations is not necessarily how God judges. If Jesus had used the crowd’s standard of association, he would never have addressed Zacchaeus. But this episode is one of the most picturesque accounts of the essence of his ministry. The church must become the means for restoring the lost and rejected by seeking them out, not by remaining isolated from them.
Contemporary Significance
THIS PASSAGE SUMMARIZES many key themes Luke has highlighted throughout his Gospel—most notably Jesus’ mission to seek and save the lost, a mission that now belongs to the church as his body. One of the errors the pious can make is to separate themselves from the world in such a way that they lose contact with sinners. Usually two factors feed such isolation: (1) a healthy desire not to succumb to standards of living that destroy moral integrity, and (2) a subtle but deadly feeling of superiority, so that we feel we are inherently better than others (much like the attitude of the Jews that Paul condemns in Rom. 2). This second element in the equation can squeeze out our ability to empathize with the sinner’s plight. It forgets that our blessing is the result of God’s gracious work, not our inherent character.
To want to live a moral life is part of God’s call for believers. Along with that is the desire to keep one’s distance from morally suspect practices. This principle is a good one. However, it risks being applied so thoroughly that one ceases to associate with unbelievers for fear of what comes with the relationship. It can be difficult to build the relationships on which much evangelism depends.
I remember a story one of my students shared with our class. He and his wife had worked for months to develop a relationship with several unbelievers, to the point where they had to begin discussing God’s role in this association. They had finally achieved such a level of trust that several of these families asked them to go along on a weekend outing. As they contemplated going, moral dilemmas set in. What did their friends intend on doing? Where would they go? What kinds of stories would they tell? Here was the chance they had waited for—to spend personal time with people for whom they had been praying! Their fear is as revealing as the desire to serve, but such fear comes with the territory and may even indicate we have already been withdrawing too far from others.
They opted to go, trusting God to exercise their best judgment and knowing that issues of language, taste in stories, and activities might require tact and judgment. After all, how can one expect someone to reflect standards that they may have never been taught? Their goal was to reflect their own commitments while consolidating their friendship with these families. This student and his wife are like many in the church who, in their commitment to seek the lost, do something profound and challenging by simply loving their neighbor (Rom. 13:8–10)! They were willing to risk a moment or two of discomfort for the sake of getting to know those who needed Christ. They have seen many come to Christ, because they have remained open to truly befriending the lost. When Jesus asked to stay at Zacchaeus’s house, he potentially took on such a challenge. His initiative was honored with a response.
Those of us who did not grow up in the church often are brought to the Lord, as I was, by such friendships. A Christian roommate who modeled Christ in the midst of my desire to enjoy my freshmen year at college was primarily responsible for leading me to the Lord. I had heard the gospel for years but was resistant, deflecting the efforts to consider what was in my soul with all the intellectual diversions our culture can raise. But this roommate, though he could not answer my questions, cared for me as a friend and modeled Jesus’ love in the process. That willingness to spend time, talk, and sometimes just hang out together provided far more answers than my whole list of questions. Many believers can offer this difference to their friends if they pursue such relationships with sincerity while trusting the Lord. Such is the initiative we must take to seek the lost. We must not give up on those whose hearts God may get a hold of through the testimony our love might communicate.
Another key application in this passage comes in the portrait of faith. Faith transforms people. They see the world and God differently after exercising it. That does not mean that Christians are perfect. The church is not full of perfect people, but forgiven people. The difference is crucial.
A transformed faith responds to wronging others differently than our instincts do. Our instincts tell us not to admit our wrongs and to cover up any signs of weakness. When I was growing up, such an attitude was romanticized into a saying that came from the popular novel, Love Story: “Love means never having to say you are sorry.” As sweet as this sounds, it avoids a fundamental issue in relationships, namely, the honesty to bring the integrity of admitting error. Marriages are severely damaged by an unwillingness to admit wrong; so are a host of other relationships, either personal or professional.
One of the most painful things we can do in a relationship is to commit a wrong and then pretend it never happened or did not do any damage. Such blindness builds up resentment and eats away at the relationship. Admitting wrong, asking for forgiveness, and trying to make restitution are like a spring shower that can open up the possibility of a fresh start. That is why Zacchaeus’s desire to make restitution meets Jesus’ commendation—not as a requirement for the tax collector’s salvation, but as an indication that his heart recognized that a wrong needed acknowledging and fixing. Here attitude and resources combined to show how clearly Zacchaeus recognized his wrong. If there was any doubt Zacchaeus meant what he said, his pocketbook spoke volumes.
Zacchaeus also pictures an honesty and vulnerability about sin that reveal the inherent beauty of the gospel in being able to deal with sin and failure. The Christian faith is the ultimate “recovery” movement, because what is recovered is the fundamental relationship with God that allows recovery in other areas to take place. That “recovery” is what Zacchaeus’s remarks so vividly reveal. The church needs to highlight such testimony. Some of the most moving services in the church are those where sinners tell how God “recovered” them from lostness and brought them back into his fold. As they exposed their sin before God, he brought them back into relationship with him and with others.
We do too little of sharing our testimony in our communities as an act that can bind us together. A church made up of “perfect” people who cannot confess sin does not give evidence of the gospel’s transforming power. To know him is to not slip into the delusion we are something apart from him. The Reformation called this principle “being justified while being a sinner.” That is, God saves me to make me different and enables me to walk with him; without the provision he gives us, we go nowhere. This requires a lifelong walk of faith and dependence on him. We are a new creation, but in him we are under continual renewal. The moment we forget our continual need for renewal, we slip into the self-delusion of being spiritually independent. Nothing is more devastating for the Christian walk than forgiven sinners who think they can live like saints on automatic pilot. Independence is not the essence of faith; humility and dependence are.