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Each time I hear the story about Zacchaeus climbing up that sycamore tree just so that he could see Jesus, I wonder what it was that he wanted to see, what it is that he did see, and how it was that his fateful climb up the sycamore tree changed Zacchaeus’ life. It just so happens that Zacchaeus was a very wealthy man and, quite likely, cared more about money and possessions than he did about other people. But, when Zacchaeus heard Jesus teaching about God’s Kingdom, something stirred deep within Zacchaeus, an inner stirring that impelled Zacchaeus to climb up that sycamore tree. In Lloyd Douglas’ novel, The Robe, Jesus asks Zacchaeus, “What made you do that?” Zacchaeus responded, “Master, when I look into your eyes, I see mirrored there the Zacchaeus I was always intended to be.” To be candid, I have to admit that the story of Zacchaeus reminds me about that one fateful Saturday afternoon when I was a third grader. I was a Cub Scout at the time and very much wanted to become a Webelo Scout. One of the several achievements I had to demonstrate was my ability to shinny up a tree. Sounds pretty simple, doesn’t it? Well, climbing up a tree didn’t present all that much of a problem. In fact, if all I had to do in order to become a Webelo Scout was to climb up a tree, that would have been pretty easy. As a kid, did you ever climb up a tree, each time going higher and yet even higher, and then to try climbing bigger and even bigger trees? Did you notice how looking down from a higher vantage point gave you a different perspective upon what was below? No doubt about it! I loved to climb trees as a kid. All I had to do was find a tree and a good place to plant my foot. With that accomplished, all I had to do was to start climbing from one spot in the tree to another spot higher up the tree. I had accomplished that feat many, many times and on many different types of trees in a variety of locales. But, as I was soon to learn, shinnying up a tree is an altogether different exercise. To accomplish that feat, I spent a good bit of time studying the Cub Scout Manual (the 1911 edition). I learned that I’d have to grasp the trunk of the tree by my arms and legs, but not so tightly as to render myself incapable of shinnying upwards to heights heretofore never ventured! In my mind’s eye, I figured out how, without any assistance or boost, I’d pull myself up the tree to a point that—in so far as the Cub Scouts were concerned and as this concerned achieving my desire to be a Webelo Scout—had to be at least 20 feet above ground. I likened shinnying up a tree to climbing up a rope but, with a tree, I’d had to use my arms rather than my hands to pull myself up. If I was to accomplish that feat and achieve my goal of becoming a Webelo Scout, however, there was one problem I’d have to surmount. Coming from northern European stock (Prussian—German and Polish—genes for the most part), God did not grace me with long arms and legs, like God graced my more athletically-inclined Nordic, southern European, and African peers. No, northern European stock like me tends to be more compact with overall body strength coming not from the length of one’s limbs but from their power. Strong short arms and legs are helpful for many, many useful endeavors—like plowing fields and mountain climbing—but, as I was to learn, not for shinnying up a tree. Given my physical limitations and to help me learn how to shinny up a tree, my Dad decided to take me, my older sister, and my younger brother to the Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Des Plaines one bright, sunny, and crisp fall Saturday afternoon. The goal of this adventure, of course, was that I’d learn to shinny up a tree and to accomplish that feat so I could earn my merit badge. The reason my Dad brought my older sister and younger brother along was for them to be official witnesses along with my Dad to the fact that I had shinnied 20 feet up a tree. At the end of the afternoon, there’d be an official ceremony where all three would attest to my acumen in shinnying up a tree by signing their names on the official form. To make the whole event really official, I even wore my Cub Scouts USA official uniform including the yellow and navy blue bandana with gold embossed clip. Visions of success filled my mind. Along with the signed form, a group photo would seal the deal! So, there we all were on that glorious fall Saturday afternoon in Deer Grove Forest Preserve. As my Dad was parking the car, we kids went searching for just the right tree. That didn’t take long at all because my younger brother—who was taller and more nimble (I always thought he had different genes) as well as less cautious and calculating than I—found the perfect tree. He ran up to it and shinnied up the tree about 10 feet by the time my Dad yelled at my brother to get down from the tree. Now, shinnying up a tree seemed to be a pretty simple thing to do, at least from reading the description of how to do it in the official Boy Scouts Manual. Furthermore, it looked pretty simple for my brother, too. So, fortified with the determination of Hannibal, I went up to the tree, wrapped my arms and legs around it, and tried pulling myself up. The problem I immediately encountered was that I was going nowhere but downward. Along the way, I got all sorts of scrapes and tree bark embedded in the palms of my hands and the cheeks of my face. Watching this spectacle, my Dad decided I’d need some instruction and practice. So, my Dad interlaced the fingers of his hands, had me place one foot in the “step” he formed with his hands, and then boosted me up the tree about three or four feet. I hugged the tree trunk with my arms and legs. The trouble was that I couldn’t figure out how in the world I would get my arms and legs to move in concert with one another without slipping downwards and getting scraped all over again. The outcome? The same result as the first time…only with more scrapes and my Cub Scout uniform getting dirty and shredded from scraping against the tree’s bark. To appreciate fully all of what was transpiring, there are two things that need to be understood. The first is that my Dad was no teacher. Possessing absolutely zero patience, as far as my Dad was concerned, all anyone had to do was what he told them to do. That’s all success required. Whether it was baiting a fish hook and spin or fly casting, pitching a baseball, throwing a football, riding a bicycle, mowing the lawn, picking weeds, or shinnying up a tree, my Dad would demand, “Just do exactly what I tell you!” The second thing that has to be understood is that when my Dad’s patience wore out—which didn’t take long at all—his language became more colorfully expressive of his deepest feelings. When I didn’t do what I had been instructed to do, it wasn’t unusual for my Dad to yell at me, “Just do what I g**d***ed told you to do. For Christ’s sake, don’t you understand!” So, how might I put it politely? With my sister and brother watching on, my Dad kept boosting me up. Attempt after attempt, I’d grab onto the tree trunk for dear life and gradually come tumbling down. With each failure, my Dad’s patience would wear thinner and thinner. His language would become more increasingly expressive of his deepest feelings. Then, as it became clearly manifest to all who were watching that I’d never shinny up a tree without an extension ladder of the type that roofers use, I remember my Dad yelling—as he boosted me up the tree in what was his final attempt to get his son to shinny up a tree—“Get your g**d***ed a** up that tree!” Worse yet, as I clung to that tree, I spied my sister and brother laughing their g**d***ed a**es off as I slid down rather than shinnied up that g**d***ed tree! Well, suffice it to say, there was no merit badge for shinnying up that or any other tree. And, to this very day, my sister and brother laugh hysterically whenever either of them tell the story of the day when Dad was going to teach me how to shinny up a tree in Deer Grove Forest Preserve so that I could become a Webelo Scout. So, what’s this all got to do with Zacchaeus climbing up that sycamore tree? It has to do with “focus.” All of us hope, desire, and dream of achieving many things during our lifetimes. Realizing that one day we will die, some of us dupe ourselves into believing that material things—possessions like a big house, a fine automobile, expensive and trend-setting clothing, a socially prominent status, a leadership position in some organization, or becoming a Webelo Scout—will make us happy. Some of us even look for happiness in our marriages, children, and family life. Yet, the simple fact is that none of these will bring true happiness. Why? Because true happiness is “the possession of that which can never be taken away,” as the sixth century philosopher and politician, Boethius, noted in The Consolation of Philosophy. If we were just to take a minute and think about it—if we were to climb way up into that sycamore tree like Zacchaeus and to take a look down, to peer into Jesus’ eyes—we’d get a very different perspective on our lives. In fact, we’d see how all of our possessions don’t help one iota to achieve true happiness. In fact, the more material things we possess, the more we multiply our unhappiness and, perhaps, our misery. Why so? While all of those possessions do make us feel good, it’s only momentary and fleetingly elixir because we actually live in fear of losing our possessions or having them taken away. Not one of those possessions can fill the lack—that emptiness—we experience at the core of our lives. None of us will be satisfied, St. Augustine believed, until we rest secure in that which can never be taken away from us, namely, God’s love. “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You, O Lord,” is how he described this reality. That encounter with Jesus from high in the sycamore tree gave Zacchaeus a new focus in his life. His material possessions —albeit earned dishonestly—and the pleasures these gave Zacchaeus meant nothing now in light of his newly-recognized true purpose in life: dispossessing himself of everything that possessed him so he would be free to love God and neighbor. In that encounter with the Word of God made flesh, Zacchaeus realized the truth of the maxim, “Those possessions you are unable to give to others possess you.” When we read scripture and allow Jesus’ teaching to enter into our hearts and souls, as Zacchaeus allowed Jesus’ teaching to enter into his heart and soul, we also look into Jesus’ eyes and see mirrored there the person God has always intended us to be. In light of this, the questions we need to ask ourselves are not “Does what I am doing make me happy?” and “Am I pleased with myself?” No, we need to ask ourselves “Am I doing what God has created me to do?” and “Is God pleased with who I have become?” Quite likely none of can answer 100% in the affirmative because all of us need to amend and improve our character but not just at any time. No, there is a most opportune time for change. For us, that’s when we read Scripture and look into the mirror of Jesus’ eyes to see what God has created us to do and the person God has created us to become. When we allow those graced moments to pass, our hearts and souls grow cold, hard, and calloused to the point that, ultimately, nothing can penetrate our hearts and souls. And, in that emptiness and desolation where we find ourselves desperate to experience meaning and purpose in our lives, we surround ourselves with possessions only to become possessed by them. It has been said that “life is a terminal disease.” In our lives, there are critical moments when something of Jesus’ teaching compels us to look into the mirror of Jesus’ eyes. In these moments is found the opportunity to allow God’s grace to free us from the shackles of unhappiness into which we have enslaved ourselves. From high atop that sycamore tree, Zacchaeus desperately wanted to see Jesus! Likewise, when we really, really want something, we can push, pull and tug to make sure that we get over, under, around, and through any obstacle that impedes our quest. As Jesus’ disciples, our yearning should be to see Christ so that we might look into the mirror of his eyes and see the person God has always intended us to be. Then, through God’s grace, we also will be freed from our freely-chosen shackles and live in freedom as God’s sons and daughters, doing what God has created us to do.
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