The Man in the Tree
Excerpt from the unpublished work in progress, Walk Through the Valley:
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
The Man in the Tree
As Jesus enters Jericho during his ministry, there is a man in that city by the name of Zacchaeus. As the chief tax collector, he is wealthy.
His neighbors avoid him like the plague.
He built his personal empire on falsely inflating his neighbors’ debts to Rome, through the years stealing from the rich as well as the poor. Zacchaeus now possessed all the Empire a man could ask for, and more. But he had never grasped the riches of the Kingdom of Heaven. He learned that the more empire he owned, the more his empire owned him. With every extension of his holdings, he became more enslaved.
He has heard there is a great man who has something Zacchaeus could never own. The man has no home, pays his taxes by means of a miracle, sleeps outdoors like the foxes, eats from the heads of wheat growing on the leavings at the edges of fields--yet is so beloved the crowds follow him everywhere he goes. Whatever he needs, God provides. This man Jesus is just the opposite of himself, it seems. Jesus lives the faith that he had never dared. If the stories are true, Jesus connects with God’s creation and with others in a way that can only make him wonder.
He has heard it is so, but being a rational man, he needs to see this Jesus for himself. So when he hears Jesus is on his way, he runs to meet the forming crowd. He’s too short to see around his neighbors. He tries to muscle his way to the front, but when they identify him, his former friends elbow him to the back. Whatever else his neighbors owe, they don’t owe him any kindness.
Still, he must see Jesus. An overpowering scent consumes him, the honeyed incense of ripe figs rising around him in the heat of the day. Turning, he sees a Sycamore-fig tree branching low, graceful and generous to the climber. An idea strikes him like lightning. Zacchaeus doesn’t care if every house in Jericho sees him and thinks he’s a fool. He’s going to see Jesus even if he has to climb up into that tree.
When he reaches out, Zacchaeus sees his gnarled hands before him. Last time he climbed a tree, those hands were much smoother, unmarked by life. As he climbs the tree, he begins to recall what has brought him to this place today alone, a spectator of spectators watching the others watch Jesus pass by.
Accustomed to inner conversation, he wonders to himself how he has lost connection with all the people around him. As he grasps each branch in turn, in his heart Zacchaeus counts off the symptoms of his life’s obsession to have it all. “It all started with proving to myself I could succeed on my own, then as my friends turned against me,”—he hoisted himself up another branch--“I had to prove I could do it better, have more than all of them.” Reaching for a higher limb, he recalled “the fever of ambition had set in, and when I had discovered the boost my wealth got from controlling people at a distance,” as he shifted his weight a branch higher, “it was followed by hunger for power, and then my appetite exceeded my morality.” As he reached higher still, “it escalated to corruption, mounting to ruthlessness, when I lost all sense of compassion” and at last gaining the height needed to overlook the crowd, “culminating in vengeance, when I needed to destroy those who opposed me.” By the time he achieves his perch in the tree from which to view Jesus, Zacchaeus understands exactly why no one in his hometown wants anything to do with him.
Zaccheaus settles his back against the tree trunk and waits. He notices as though for the first time the prolific budding of the sycamore fig tree--each cluster resembling a generous hand outstretched, multiplied by the hundreds. A new bracket of buds appears closely after its seasonal massive production of fruit. “How many families are sustained by the fruit of this one tree?” he wonders to himself. “To calculate the yearly fruit production of the tree, multiply the harvest by four. . .” He observes the insects flitting among the figs, the many birds nesting in their homes here, the lizards darting as though in communication with all the other small animals the tree hosts. He is astonished at how hospitable the tree is, despite the small patch of land it takes to grow. “No wonder they call it the ‘Tree of Life!’”
As he finally spots the face of Jesus in the distant crowd, his damp brow cools. He relaxes as he feels the fever of greed leave him. Those near Jesus who look upon him are transfixed, transformed, softened, illuminated from within. These are poor, ordinary people, yet they have room in their hearts for love. Those standing on the outskirts of the crowd, the scribes and Pharisees, do not look so cheerful. Their faces are darkened with angry expressions. So it is true! Zacchaeus nods his head, once. What the Kingdom of Heaven offers, an earthly Empire cannot claim. What Zacchaeus wouldn’t give for the freedom to be like Jesus! He begins to consider how he can live as meekly as the sycamore fig tree--within the limitations of kindness and God’s provision, passing on the gifts he has been given. As its hold on him is released, he begins to consider how useful his wealth could be to good causes.
He keeps his eyes on Jesus as he comes nearer and nearer his hiding place. Jesus meets his gaze and as he approaches, never lets go.
When Jesus reaches the foot of the great tree, he unexpectedly calls up to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” On hearing Jesus call out his name, Zacchaeus almost falls out of the tree. Nearly losing his footing in his haste, he comes down twice as rapidly as he had climbed up. There beneath the tree, Jesus reaches him down from the lowest branch like an older brother.
All the people see this and begin to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Zacchaeus stands up for his new—his only--friend and says clearly so all of them can hear, “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.”
Jesus says to him, “Today this man and his house have been liberated, because he, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
“Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” --Jesus of Nazareth
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
The Man in the Tree
As Jesus enters Jericho during his ministry, there is a man in that city by the name of Zacchaeus. As the chief tax collector, he is wealthy.
His neighbors avoid him like the plague.
He built his personal empire on falsely inflating his neighbors’ debts to Rome, through the years stealing from the rich as well as the poor. Zacchaeus now possessed all the Empire a man could ask for, and more. But he had never grasped the riches of the Kingdom of Heaven. He learned that the more empire he owned, the more his empire owned him. With every extension of his holdings, he became more enslaved.
He has heard there is a great man who has something Zacchaeus could never own. The man has no home, pays his taxes by means of a miracle, sleeps outdoors like the foxes, eats from the heads of wheat growing on the leavings at the edges of fields--yet is so beloved the crowds follow him everywhere he goes. Whatever he needs, God provides. This man Jesus is just the opposite of himself, it seems. Jesus lives the faith that he had never dared. If the stories are true, Jesus connects with God’s creation and with others in a way that can only make him wonder.
He has heard it is so, but being a rational man, he needs to see this Jesus for himself. So when he hears Jesus is on his way, he runs to meet the forming crowd. He’s too short to see around his neighbors. He tries to muscle his way to the front, but when they identify him, his former friends elbow him to the back. Whatever else his neighbors owe, they don’t owe him any kindness.
Still, he must see Jesus. An overpowering scent consumes him, the honeyed incense of ripe figs rising around him in the heat of the day. Turning, he sees a Sycamore-fig tree branching low, graceful and generous to the climber. An idea strikes him like lightning. Zacchaeus doesn’t care if every house in Jericho sees him and thinks he’s a fool. He’s going to see Jesus even if he has to climb up into that tree.
When he reaches out, Zacchaeus sees his gnarled hands before him. Last time he climbed a tree, those hands were much smoother, unmarked by life. As he climbs the tree, he begins to recall what has brought him to this place today alone, a spectator of spectators watching the others watch Jesus pass by.
Accustomed to inner conversation, he wonders to himself how he has lost connection with all the people around him. As he grasps each branch in turn, in his heart Zacchaeus counts off the symptoms of his life’s obsession to have it all. “It all started with proving to myself I could succeed on my own, then as my friends turned against me,”—he hoisted himself up another branch--“I had to prove I could do it better, have more than all of them.” Reaching for a higher limb, he recalled “the fever of ambition had set in, and when I had discovered the boost my wealth got from controlling people at a distance,” as he shifted his weight a branch higher, “it was followed by hunger for power, and then my appetite exceeded my morality.” As he reached higher still, “it escalated to corruption, mounting to ruthlessness, when I lost all sense of compassion” and at last gaining the height needed to overlook the crowd, “culminating in vengeance, when I needed to destroy those who opposed me.” By the time he achieves his perch in the tree from which to view Jesus, Zacchaeus understands exactly why no one in his hometown wants anything to do with him.
Zaccheaus settles his back against the tree trunk and waits. He notices as though for the first time the prolific budding of the sycamore fig tree--each cluster resembling a generous hand outstretched, multiplied by the hundreds. A new bracket of buds appears closely after its seasonal massive production of fruit. “How many families are sustained by the fruit of this one tree?” he wonders to himself. “To calculate the yearly fruit production of the tree, multiply the harvest by four. . .” He observes the insects flitting among the figs, the many birds nesting in their homes here, the lizards darting as though in communication with all the other small animals the tree hosts. He is astonished at how hospitable the tree is, despite the small patch of land it takes to grow. “No wonder they call it the ‘Tree of Life!’”
As he finally spots the face of Jesus in the distant crowd, his damp brow cools. He relaxes as he feels the fever of greed leave him. Those near Jesus who look upon him are transfixed, transformed, softened, illuminated from within. These are poor, ordinary people, yet they have room in their hearts for love. Those standing on the outskirts of the crowd, the scribes and Pharisees, do not look so cheerful. Their faces are darkened with angry expressions. So it is true! Zacchaeus nods his head, once. What the Kingdom of Heaven offers, an earthly Empire cannot claim. What Zacchaeus wouldn’t give for the freedom to be like Jesus! He begins to consider how he can live as meekly as the sycamore fig tree--within the limitations of kindness and God’s provision, passing on the gifts he has been given. As its hold on him is released, he begins to consider how useful his wealth could be to good causes.
He keeps his eyes on Jesus as he comes nearer and nearer his hiding place. Jesus meets his gaze and as he approaches, never lets go.
When Jesus reaches the foot of the great tree, he unexpectedly calls up to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” On hearing Jesus call out his name, Zacchaeus almost falls out of the tree. Nearly losing his footing in his haste, he comes down twice as rapidly as he had climbed up. There beneath the tree, Jesus reaches him down from the lowest branch like an older brother.
All the people see this and begin to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Zacchaeus stands up for his new—his only--friend and says clearly so all of them can hear, “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.”
Jesus says to him, “Today this man and his house have been liberated, because he, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
“Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” --Jesus of Nazareth