Church Board Members  2010

Session:
     Sue Betcher
     Pam Blake
     Ann Brillhart
     Eric Burgos
     Karen Holmes
     Mike McGough
     Caroline Mescia
     Debbie Michelsen
     John Michelsen
     Courtney Smith
     Walter Steinmann, Jr
     Beverly Winkler

  Dorman Craig- Clerk
      

Deacons:
     Felicia Burgos
     Jody Freinkel
     Barbara Haimann
     David Haimann
     Margie Koenig
     Donna Lauckner
     Shelly May
     Bonnie McCarthy
     Matt Millichap
     Marilyn O'Neill
     Stephen O'Neill
     Anthony Pomponio
     Jim Primavera
     Marion Shine
     Dan Uniss
    

Trustees:
     Dave Blake
     Vince Carano
     Djenane Duhaney
     George Hansen, Jr.
     Donna Kiel
     Ernie Kiel
     Dave Newkirk
     Connie Puleo
     Richard Williamson
   
  
    

 Church Treasurer:
                       Lew Brillhart

Going Out On a Limb for Stewardship- October 31, 2010

               Scripture: Luke 19:1-10

Zacchaeus sorted through his mail, tossing out the junk.  Although he was sorely tempted to pitch the letter from the church, he sighed and opened it, knowing full well what it was about.  In fall, stewardship letters drop as gently to earth as do the leaves.

All they want is my money, he thought.  They could care less about me.  When I do go to church, I sit by myself; folks nod at me during the passing of the peace, never shake my hand; I don’t stay for coffee hour, who would I talk to?

I’m a leper.  So I work for the Romans who crush my people and pillage my country, so what?  I bid for this job, I won it fair and square.  The Romans know they’ll get their cut and I get to keep everything else I can wring out my family, and friends, and neighbors.  They’ll get over it. 

Just because I make a buck from an evil empire, that makes me a bad person?  How many of you work for a company that cuts corners, fudges on taxes, dribbles on the environment, skims from their clients?  Be honest now!  But does that make you a bad person?

So I’m a leper.  I’m a very wealthy leper.  I’ve got no friends, but I’ve got my gold to keep me warm. 

He tossed the stewardship letter and pledge card aside; it would have to wait.  He had other things to do right now.

A rabbi named Jesus was supposed to be passing through town, and Zacchaeus wanted to see what all the shouting and whispering was about.  They say he healed the sick and drove out demons.  They say he taught as one who knew from experience.  They say he had women disciples.  They say he even ate with tax collectors and sinners.  But they’ll say anything.  Promises, promises.

It wasn’t as easy as he had imagined.  It never is.  A crowd had already gathered to hear the rabbi, and more were coming.  Zacchaeus was short, and as hard as he ducked and elbowed his way, nobody was about to let him in to get closer.  Especially not him.  

Loners learn to improvise. 

Zacchaeus looked around for a vantage point he could see from.  Nothing he could climb, except a sycamore tree with spreading branches.  The limbs were out of the reach of a child, but close enough so that if he shinnied and pulled and scrambled and edged out on a branch, very, very, carefully, all the while keeping his legs wrapped tightly around the tree.  Yep, there.  Just hang on tight; Jesus would have to walk right below him.

Talk about going out on a limb.  Zacchaeus had never felt more conspicuous and vulnerable.  Out on his branch there was no place to hide. He noted how people below would look up and notice him.  They’d nudge their neighbor and gesture up, and then they’d both shake their heads scornfully.  He ignored them; he wasn’t out to make friends, he was on a mission, and if he had to go out on a limb to accomplish it, so be it.

Zacchaeus watched as the rabbi approached his nest in the tree.  Was he reading too much into the easy way the rabbi interacted with even the beggar, the slaves, the noisy kids?  Was he seeing too much kindness, too much compassion in the rabbi’s eyes?  Was he hearing too much grace in the words of promise and justice the rabbi spoke?

Jesus paused under the sycamore and looked up.  Zacchaeus looked up, too, wondering if there was some other fool in the tree with him.  No. 

“Zacchaeus, hurry and come down.”  How does he know my name?  O great!  They’ve been telling him about me; the town pariah. 

“I must stay at your house today”.  Zacchaeus almost fell out of his tree.  The rabbi wants to stay with me?  After what they’d told him?  Are you sure?  Is that really what he said?  And as he scrambled down, he knew it was what the rabbi had said, because no one else seemed pleased by the news.  They were all grumbling, “He’s going to be the guest of a sinner, a traitor, a tax collector, the chief tax collector?  I’ll tell you, he’s not the messiah, because the messiah would know a whole lot better than to eat at the house of that miserable Zacchaeus.

As Zacchaeus scurried home to prepare for his first ever real visitor, exhulting that at last he had a friend, he wondered, for the first time ever, if perhaps his job was just a touch too edgy, perhaps a shade too shady.  For the first time, Zacchaeus felt a flush of shame.  And as he rehearsed his greeting to the rabbi, he found himself also rehearsing an apology.

As the rabbi at last entered his home, Zacchaeus blurted out, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back what I owe, twice what I owe, four times what I owe.”

The rabbi nodded in approval and said, “Today, salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham.” 

This was the first time Zacchaeus had ever been called a son of Abraham; a son of something else, plenty of times, but never a son of Abraham. 

It felt good to be accepted, to be part of a community, part of something greater than himself.  It felt good to be included.  And it felt really good to be found at last, to be accepted and forgiven, to be loved.

That evening Zacchaeus picked up the letter from the church and stared at the blanks on the pledge card. 

What is it worth, he thought, to be accepted and forgiven?  What price can you put on that?

And what is it worth to be part of a community that cares for you and supports you?  What price can you put on that?

And what is it worth to be sought out and found by someone who loves you unconditionally?  What price can you put on that?

Spare change for the Lord would not be sufficient; this would require more of him than that. 

He picked up a pen, did some math in his head, took a breath, and wrote down a figure.

Thanks be to God for the gifts of love which are ours in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Amen