Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Mercy and Thanksgiving

What will you be doing in twenty four hours? Will you be frantically running around addressing the dressing, tending to the turkey and popping the pies into the oven? Will you have your feet propped up watching a full slate of football games? Will you be cutting out coupons and searching out deals in preparation for Black Friday?

You may not know, but tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It is a day when we remember the fellowship shared between the European settlers and the Native Americans way back in 1621. They may have had a meal together to celebrate the first successful harvest, but it was primarily a day of prayer giving thanks for continued life and all the blessings of new life for the Pilgrims in America. To answer my own questions from earlier I will gather with my family to overeat, watch too much football, but also hopefully to remember that primarily it is a day of giving thanks to God.

Sometimes things get in the way of giving thanks, not just football and cooking and couponing, but other more significant roadblocks on the path to appreciation. A few years ago while gathered around the Thanksgiving dinner table I found myself upset about how ungrateful one of my family members was. He grumbled about not liking turkey. He complained about politics (who wants to talk politics with their family?). He moaned about everything. Exasperated by the wave of whining I thought, and nearly said under my breath, God thank you for not making me like this bitter man, I’m thankful, I do my part in my community, and I go to church unlike him.

As I look back on the moment I am quite embarrassed by my “prayer.” While negative family members do not stand out on my Black Friday shopping list, my own reaction to this person caught me off guard. It also sounds eerily similar to a story from Luke’s Gospel account.

Two men went up to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee (well respected, law abiding, and a righteous man). The other was a tax collector (despised, disregarding the law, and a no good thief). While in the Temple, the Pharisee prayed, “’God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’”

It’s not hard to see with whom I identify in light of my Thanksgiving day breakdown a few years ago. I feel so often like a Pharisee, but never more so than on that day. It’s wonderful to be righteous and to follow the religious laws we have, and yet what God desires is for us to come back to him when we stray, not religious correctness, and not competitive righteousness. So what do we do with grumpy relatives and what can we hope for in mean old tax collectors? I’m glad you asked.

In today’s gospel lesson we hear of the lovable little character named Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus though was not so adored by the people in Jericho. He was a conniving toll collector who would take much more than required. This was a man of great wealth, but he was not of great stature. When Jesus came to Jericho something compelled Zacchaeus to run ahead of the crowd, so that he could get a good seat in the balcony of his day. Then unexpectedly Jesus moves the crowd towards the tree where Zacchaeus was perching.

Then Jesus did something so stunning that it made the crowd grumble. Jesus told Zacchaeus that he was coming to eat at the tax collectors home. Zacchaeus’ response stands out to this day as a glimpse of what repentance looks like in action. He said, “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.” He admitted that what he was doing wrong and he set out to make amends even if that made him a poor man.

Jesus ended this scene saying that salvation had come to Zacchaeus’ home, “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” A merciful tax collector climbed a tree so that he could spot the Savior coming. He gave away not a tenth of his income like the Pharisee but half of his possessions, and used his money to pay back those he had wronged. Yet all of this was more than worth it for Zacchaeus, for salvation and forgiveness had come to him in the person of Jesus.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, a day when many of us will overeat, watch too much football, and maybe remember our Pilgrim predecessors. However, true thankfulness begins at the intersection of our contrite hearts and God’s mercy-giving grace. The Pharisee’s mistake stemmed not from his gratefulness, but from his belief that he was better than the “sinners.” Jesus came to seek out and save the lost, which includes us. He desires to bring salvation from our broken ways. May Zacchaeus the tax collector serve as our model for our Thanksgiving Day. Let us pray:

Almighty God have mercy upon us, mold our penitent hearts, as you shaped the life and witness of the contrite tax collector, and may your Spirit enliven us always to give humble thanks for the loving redemption of Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.

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