Sunday, November 3, 2019

See and Be Seen

As you may know, I had the privilege of living in Rome for four years when I was studying to be a priest. While it sometimes feels a bit distant now, it was a great experience. One of the greatest benefits and blessings of studying for the priesthood in Rome is that you are very close to the Pope. In fact, our seminary was just a ten minute walk from St. Peter’s Basilica so often we would go over there for the Sunday Angelus, when the pope would say a few words and give a blessing to everyone in the square.

Even better were the Wednesday audiences, when the pope would come out into the middle of the square for a prayer service and assembly that lasted for an hour or more. Because these audiences were always packed with people, it was important to get in line several hours early in order to try and get a good seat. It was always quite a hilarious sight when the Vatican guards finally opened the barricades to let people in — everyone would rush forward, running, scrambling, climbing over each other in order to race ahead to get to the seats that would have the best view of the pope. Seminarians and even priests wouldn’t hesitate to push past someone, but the worst were the nuns and sisters. Believe me, it was hazardous to your health to get in the way of a charging sister as she made her way to her seat!

I am reminded of that chaotic scene whenever I hear today’s Gospel. If people today jostle and scramble to see the pope, imagine what some must have done to see Jesus! In fact, we don’t have to imagine at all because the Gospel passage tells us. We hear the story of Zacchaeus – the short man who climbed a tree in order to catch a glimpse of Jesus. There’s more to this figure of Zacchaeus though than just that. We are told that he is the chief tax collector of Jericho. This means he was wealthy, but it also means he was probably quite wicked. Tax collectors in the ancient world were ruthless and greedy; they were also seen as traitors by their own people, since they conspired with the enemy, the Roman government, to collect taxes. In other words, Zacchaeus isn’t how we often may think of him, a funny little short guy. He was a sinner, a hardened one, and someone detested by others.

But, despite his sins, we are told Zacchaeus was “seeking to see who Jesus was.” The heart of this sinful man is intrigued by Christ – intrigued by his fame, perhaps, but possibly also by his power, by his mercy. But he has a problem – he’s short in stature and he can’t see over the crowd. Zacchaeus though is not about to allow this to thwart what he yearns for, and so he does something bold and astonishing: he climbs a tree. Now, this is not something an important and wealthy person would do – it’s the action of a commoner. To climb the tree would have been humiliating for Zacchaeus, but he does it nonetheless, so ardently does he desire to see Christ. And upon seeing him, he is himself seen by Jesus. Jesus acknowledges him, invites him to come down, and tells him he wants to be his guest that evening. In doing so, Jesus transforms this hardened man's heart; he shows him a love that is personal enough to not only heal him of his sins but to reform his ways. Zacchaeus may have wanted to see Jesus, but we see that in the end it was really Jesus who was seeking Zacchaeus all along.

Niels Larsen Stevns, Zacchaeus (1913)

What we have therefore in the Gospel today is a story of conversion – a story of the encounter between a sinner and the merciful Lord. And so perhaps we might reflect upon our own individual relationships with Jesus in light of this story. Often in our lives, we might be like Zacchaeus, made low by our sins. We may feel a desire for healing and renewal, but our desire is thwarted – perhaps we despair of really being healed, or we are dissuaded by peer pressure or bad advice, or the focus on temporal things, the day to day, presses in on us and obscures the face of Jesus. What we need to do in such a situation is be bold, as Zacchaeus was – not by climbing a tree, but by doing whatever is necessary to encounter Christ. That may mean swallowing our pride and stepping back into the confessional after a long time away. It may mean that we need to step away from some of the urgent concerns of daily life in order to spend time in humble, honest prayer. It may mean humbling ourselves to seek out those whom we have wronged to ask forgiveness. Whatever it requires, I guarantee that the bold humility we show will be met and matched fourfold by the Lord’s tender love. We will find that whatever we put forward to come to encounter him, it is in fact he who has been searching for us all along.

Friends, it is a special thing to strive to see the pope, but it is far more special to behold the face of Christ, who in turn seeks to heal us as he healed Zacchaeus. This week is National Vocations Awareness Week, when our Church prays that those whom the Lord is calling to follow him will answer that call – especially to priestly or religious vocations. We need priests to give us the sacraments, to provide us with the merciful encounter with Christ that Zacchaeus experienced. But we also should remember that it is not just priests and religious who should know what it means to have met the Lord. Every disciple has the vocation, the calling to seek Jesus – to rush forward to meet him, to hasten without stumbling to encounter him, for he is also seeking us, to dwell with us, to make his home within us, so that we might one day make our home with him. How terrible it would be to miss out on that encounter, to be just another face in the crowd, only watching as Jesus passes by.

As we prepare to celebrate this Eucharist, this encounter with the Lord under the sign of bread and wine, may we humble ourselves to overcome every obstacle to see anew the face of Jesus.

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