The Ultimate Answer to All Needs

John Aurelio in his book, “Story Sunday,” relates a parable about a man who had a terminal illness. He felt that the disease meant the end of all of his hopes and dreams. But he heard of a wizard, who could do wonderful things for people. So, he sought the man out.

When the wizard asked, “What do you want?” The man replied, “I have dreamed dreams and hoped hopes.” When asked what he had hoped for, the man, not sure of the wizard’s power, told of his dream of living in a fine home of his own. The wizard said, “All you have to do is ask.” Immediately, pop! There appeared a beautiful palace, and the man was filled with joy as he walked its halls.

Remembering his illness, the man grew sad and returned to the wizard.  Again, he spoke of his dreams and hopes, and again the wizard asked what he hoped for.  The man said he had often dreamed of food fit for a king. The wizard snapped his fingers and pop! – a banquet appeared. The man rejoiced as he sat and feasted.

A third time this cycle was repeated with the man wishing for beautiful clothes and the wizard providing garments made of the finest cloth imaginable. But the man was still sad. When the wizard asked why he was still sad, the man finally admitted that he had an incurable illness that he didn’t expect even the wizard could help him with. “I can cure that,” said the wizard. 

At that, the man exclaimed, “If you can cure my sickness, what do I care about where I live or what I eat or what I wear?” The wizard cured him with a snap of his fingers, and the man walked away from castle and food and clothes much happier than he had ever been in his life.

What’s the connection between this parable and today’s Gospel?  We all have a terminal illness. Realizing that we must one day die, we hope and dream for any number of things – a big mansion, a fine car, good food, social status, expensive clothes, power, influence, and popularity – yet we are still sad and unfulfilled even when we get these things.

Aurelio imagines God asking us, “Why are you still sad when I bless you with so many things?” When we reply, “Because we must die,” God says, “I can cure that,” and with a snap of His fingers – there is Jesus!

Having encountered this truth about Jesus, why would we look on big house, food, and clothes as if they meant everything in life? Realizing that God has “cured” death, should we not be happier than we ever dreamed we could be?

Zaccaheus, what St. Augustine describes as “restless heart,” was a person who would not be satisfied until he or she rested secure in the presence of God – the ultimate goodness and truth. In terms of material possessions, Zacchaeus had done pretty well.  But Zacchaeus sensed a lack in his life, an emptiness at the core of his being. That is why he so eagerly sought out Jesus, this itinerant preacher, a stranger.

Zacchaeus was a controversial person himself.  Being a tax collector he was rich, and therefore had certain influence in the community.  But as a tax collector he was also despised and hated by fellow Jews.  He was a collaborator of the hated Romans. Furthermore, the job lent itself to abuses and corruption.

What is collected above and beyond the quota required by the Roman authority went to the pocket of the tax collector. That is why John the Baptist admonished the tax collectors to “Exact no more than what is due.”

The Jews classed in one breath tax collectors and sinners such as murderers and adulterers, all to be excluded from the kingdom of God. Zacchaeus lacked nothing materially speaking.  He was rich. He had attained the goal of his earthly ambition. And yet, interiorly troubled, he was still looking for something or someone else. Perhaps he did not fully know who Jesus was but. prompted by a kind of irresistible urge, he wanted to catch a glimpse of the prophet. Only afterward would he recognize Jesus for what he was. It was as if Zacchaeus and Jesus were both impelled by the same drive leading them one to the other.

This encounter between Zacchaeus the sinner and Jesus is symbolic. It represents our own state. In each one of us there lives the sinner and the Lord. In each sinner – the Son of God lives. In each believer – Zacchaeus continued to exist until “the Lord may fulfill every good resolve and work of faith by His power,” as St. Paul says.

This enables us to take any kind of risk in order to fulfill the demands of our personal faith, whatever the opinion of our surrounding crowd.  This also inclines us to the greatest prudence in forming an opinion about others. We know them still far less than they know themselves.

Like Zacchaeus, we find in Jesus the fulfillment of our truest selves.  Christianity has long suggested that the truest image of what humanity was meant to be can be seen in Jesus.

“Life is a terminal illness.” This observation need not be as morbid as it sounds.  We will reach a point in our lives at which we truly realize the consequences of our morality. That can be a vulnerable insight, leading us to shift out what is ultimately meaningful and important in life. But it can also cause us to be overcome with sadness and to stockpile material goods as a kind of “cushion” against the pain of finite existence.

Luke presents Zacchaeus as a model of the process of salvation. This very rich person, despised by his fellow Jews, wanted to see Jesus. Jesus disarmingly drew Zacchaeus to himself as he invited himself to reside and break bread in Zacchaeus’ house.

Zacchaeus willingly and joyfully allows Jesus to come into his life. Zacchaeus counters his self-righteous critics by announcing emphatically his resolve to split his possessions in two and give one half to the poor. For his part, Jesus pronounces that Zacchaeus is not outside the fold of God’s people and is saved.

The distinctively Lucan touch in this story of salvation is the theological insight that Jesus liberates us from the stranglehold, which the allurements of possessions have on us. And this brings us to our own personal lives. Jesus often walks into our lives, as he did into the life of Zacchaeus. When he does, we need only to reach out to him, and he will do for us what he did for Zacchaues.

But this raises a question: When can we be sure that Jesus walks into our lives. There are three times, especially. The first is when the Scriptures are read and explained at Mass, no matter how boring the preacher. 

Jesus assured his disciples, “Whoever listens to you listens to me.” And so Jesus is walking into our lives right now, in a way, as we listen to his words in Scripture.

A second time Jesus walks into our lives is in the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  Again, Jesus said, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.”And so the second time Jesus walks into our lives, in a special way, is in the Liturgy of the Eucharist, which we  celebrate at Mass.

Finally, Jesus walks into our lives, in a special way, whenever we encounter a brother or sister in need. Once again, Jesus said that whatever we do for one of these, we do for him. And so there are three times, especially, when we can be sure that Jesus walks into our lives: in the Liturgy of the Word, in the Liturgy of the Eucharist, and when we encounter a needy brother or sister.

At these times Jesus walks into our lives just as surely as he did into the life of Zacchaeus. When this happens, we need only to reach out and invite Jesus to do for us what he did for Zacchaeus.

This is the message of today’s Gospel.  This is what we celebrate in today’s Liturgy.  This is the good news that Jesus wants each one of us to carry with us today as we leave this church. Let’s close with these beautiful words from the Book of Revelation. Jesus said to us:

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, [Then] I will enter in his house and dine with him and he with me.” GUIDING LIGHT Rev. Fr. Benjamin Sim, SJ  (FREEMAN)