Skip to main content

Enthusiasm and cynicism

Some while ago I heard a sermon on the story of Zacchaeus. I forget what the point of the sermon was - usually for this Bible passage it's something about Jesus saving everyone, even the unlikely people. But I remember wondering, did Zacchaeus really give all that money away?

Image by Alexa from Pixabay

You may remember the tale: Zacchaeus is a corrupt government official who is rather short. When Jesus arrives in town, Zacchaeus wants to get a look at him. So he climbs a tree to see over other people's heads. However, Jesus spots him and tells him to get out of the tree and go cook Jesus some dinner. I assume Jesus phrased it a little more nicely than that, because Zacchaeus is delighted, and moreover, promises to change his entire lifestyle. "Half of my possessions I give to the poor," he declares with the enthusiasm of the instant convert, "and anyone I've defrauded, I'll pay back four times over."

The surrounding crowd are the cynics: Jesus, they mutter, has gone to be the guest of a sinner. But maybe I'm a little cynical myself. It's easy to make grand promises, and then, afterwards, whittle it down. "Half my possessions!" Oh, but not the house, of course. And I can't give someone half a horse. So if I give away some food... and a few pieces of furniture... well, maybe that will do.

So, did Zacchaeus do what he promised? Did he become a much poorer and more honest man? Did he, in fact, really change?

********

Almost a year ago, there were reports in the media that migrants to the UK were being baptised in bulk as a way to bolster their asylum claims. The impression was given that crowds of young men were infiltrating local churches, converting to Christianity, and consequently stating that their lives would be in danger if they were returned to their country of origin.

As usual, this seems to be much more splash than substance. A Church of England vicar in Darlington said that he had been approached by people with failed asylum claims, but he didn't, in fact, baptise them, and there was no indication that the parish had done mass baptisms previous to his arrival. 

On the south coast, a Baptist church had a group of 25-30 asylum seekers - mostly Farsi-speaking - in regular attendance, seven of whom had been baptised. This somehow transmuted into "40 refugees baptised on the Bibby Stockholm barge!" in the popular press.

Image by Ahstubbs from Pixabay

The situation of the Baptist church reminded me strongly of the church I used to attend in Derby, where we had quite a large group of Farsi-speaking attendees much earlier than 2024. They were definitely a full part of the church; I think someone managed to set up simultaneous translation of the sermon, and we would occasionally have a go at singing in Farsi. There were regular baptisms. We were always reminded not to take any photos or videos in case it endangered the converts or their families.

*******

With any baptism or conversion comes the question: But have they really changed? In the case of these young men in my previous church and the Baptist church, then yes, it seems so. They attended church and studied the Bible and prayed, as you might expect any Christian to do. We don't know the end of their stories any more than we know what happened to Zacchaeus, but it doesn't appear to have been a cynical move for short-term gain. And they found welcome and acceptance at the churches they belonged to.

As for Zacchaeus, we'll never know. I suspect he did change, after such a public declaration in front of people who knew him. Certainly Jesus took him at face value. "Today salvation has come to this house," declared Jesus, with possibly as much enthusiasm as his new follower. I hope that Jesus' obvious faith in Zacchaeus enabled Zacchaeus to live out his faith in Jesus, and that he, too, found a new sense of welcome and acceptance.

I think I've been a Christian too long to get wildly enthusiastic and make grand promises. But I hope, with Jesus' help, not to slide too far towards cynicism. Let's live in faith that real change is possible. If salvation can indeed come to a corrupt government official and an immigration detention barge, it may enter many other houses as well.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The winter walker's guide to spirituality

You may be familiar with Paul's illustration of the Armour of God in his letter to the Ephesians. He lists such items as the breastplate of righteousness and the helmet of salvation, and exhorts his readers to "stand firm" against the enemy's attacks, wearing the whole armour of God. For those original readers in Ephesus, a Roman soldier was probably an everyday sight. They would be familiar with swords and shields, and may well have owned some themselves. However, I don't come across any Roman soldiers very often. It takes me an extra imaginative leap to be able to visualise the armour, and then associate it with technical religious jargon like righteousness and faith. Also, I've never really got on board with this spiritual warfare business. I'm sure it's down to my circumstances or temperament or spiritual immaturity or something - I don't discount the whole concept, but I can't say I've ever had a moment where I felt like I was crossing...

Limestone Way: The Three B's

This walk on the Limestone Way takes me to three villages starting with B: Ballidon, Brassington, and Bradbourne.   Parwich to Brassington The weather forecast says it's fine, but as I walk out of Parwich some light rain starts, which persists for most of the walk. It's not enough to make me properly wet. Parwich sits in a large bowl; the kind of landscape where you can see where you're heading, where you came from, and the next hill you are going to have to climb. The area has been inhabited by humans for thousands of years .  A short climb up a field takes me to Highway Lane, which I follow down again, and then bear left across the fields to Ballidon. I can see the chimney of Ballidon Quarry, and a building which looks like an old chapel. I assume it must now be a private house, but when I get there, I discover that this is All Saints church, now in the care of the Friends of Friendless Churches. What a nice surprise! I'm intrigued by the Creed and Ten Com...