When I was a child a quarter went a long way.  Fourteen cents would pay for the Saturday afternoon movie and a dime would buy a box of popcorn.  For fourteen cents you got a newsreel, a cartoon, and a double feature.  The movies on Saturday afternoon were westerns and the nice thing about westerns was that you could tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys.  The good guys wore white hats and the bad guys wore black hats.  The Scribes and Pharisees might have known nothing about westerns, but they could certainly tell the good guys from the bad guys.

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Sam Rayburn, former Speaker of the House of Representative, commented: “A billion here, a billion there, after awhile it adds up to real money.” I don’t know about a billion, but I do remember when a quarter was a significant amount of money. When I was a child a quarter went a long way. Fourteen cents would purchase admission to the movie theater, and a dime would buy a box of popcorn. For fourteen cents you got a newsreel, a cartoon, and a double feature. The Saturday afternoon movies were westerns and the nice thing about westerns in my day was that you could tell who were good guys and who were bad guys. The good guys wore white hats and the bad guys wore black hats.

The first reading was the story of the little guy, Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was a tax collector, which meant that he was hated by the people. Tax collecting in those days was a franchise operation. The tax collector agreed to collect a certain amount for the government. The amount that he collected over that was his profit. Can you say extortion? The tighter he squeezed, the harsher he was, the greater amount would fall into his own pockets. Not only was the tax collector seen as an extortionist, he worked for the foreigners, the Roman occupation. Zacchaeus was not just a tax collector. He was a chief tax collector. Suffice it to say, he was not a popular man in Jericho.

Zacchaeus had heard of Jesus. We are not told in what context. Did he know of him simply as a miracle worker? Was he curious about this peripatetic teacher? Was there a deeper purpose involved? When he heard that Jesus was coming to Jericho, he wanted to see him. One problem. Zacchaeus was vertically challenged. He was short. He couldn’t see over those lining the road to get a glimpse of Jesus, and he was too important to shove his way to the front like a child. Besides, being known for what he was, he would probably have been elbowed aside. Every problem has a solution. It was simple. Climb a tree, which he did.

Now comes the critical point of the account. As Jesus approached, he saw Zacchaeus clinging to a limb. “Zacchaeus,” he called out, “get out of that tree. I’m coming to your house today.” The scribes and Pharisees might not have known anything about westerns, or about white hats and black hats, but they certainly knew about good guys and bad guys—and Zacchaeus was most definitely a bad guy. And Jesus was going to be a guest in his house. In fact, the second reading points out that this was not an isolated incident. Apparently tax collectors and sinners were drawn to Jesus. The Pharisees and scribes complained because this man receives sinners and eats with them. This was scandalous as far as they were concerned. Jesus reply to this attitude was simple: “The purpose of the Messiah is to seek and to save that which was lost.”

The text goes on to tell us that Zacchaeus himself found a purpose that day. He found something that he could do with his wealth. He could use it to benefit the poor. He could make amends to those whom he had defrauded. The purpose that the Messiah fulfilled had created a purposeful life for Zacchaeus.

But there is something even deeper involved here. The good guys, the scribes and Pharisees, were opposed to the very thing that God was in the process of accomplishing. Jesus Christ suffered, died, and rose from the dead to save those who needed saving. If the scribes and Pharisees placed themselves against what God was doing were they good or were they worse than the very ones they looked down on? If that’s true, then where have all of the good guys gone? They and all of us are the bad guys, the ones who need a Savior. All have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God [Romans 3:23].

The Messiah came to seek and save that which was lost. That included outsiders, those beyond the pale. To be even more specific, he came especially for the outsiders, because they have more need than anyone else. Michael Yaconelli in his book Messy Spirituality—God’s Annoying Love for Imperfect People tells of a group of soldiers in World War II. “During an intense battle one of them was killed. His buddies didn’t want to leave his body to rot on the battlefield. They wanted to give him a Christian burial. They remembered a church a few miles behind the front lines whose grounds included a small cemetery surrounded by a white fence. Receiving permission, they took their friend’s body to the church. A priest, his frail body betraying his many years, responded to their knocking. ‘Our friend was killed in battle,’ they blurted out, ‘and we wanted to give him a church burial.’ ‘Apparently the priest understood what they were asking, although he spoke little English. ‘I’m sorry,” he said, ‘but here we can only bury those of the same faith as us.’ Weary after many months of war, the soldiers simply turned to walk away. ‘But,’ the old priest called after them, ‘you can bury him outside the fence.’

Cynical and exhausted, the soldiers dug a grave and buried their friend just outside the white fence. They finished after nightfall. The next morning the unit was alerted to move out, and the group raced back for one last farewell to their buddy. When they arrived, they couldn’t find the gravesite. They walked the length of the fence—nothing. Tired and confused, they knocked on the door of the church. They asked the old priest if he knew where they had buried their friend. ‘It was dark last night and we were exhausted. We must have been disoriented.

A smile flashed across the priest’s face. ‘After you left last night, I thought about what I had said. I could not sleep, so I went outside early this morning and I moved the fence.’” [Messy Spirituality, pp. 126-27]

That’s what Jesus did. He moved the fence. No, he did more than that, he tore the fence down. He created a way with his own body and blood for those who are outside to be inside, inside the kingdom of God. That was the purpose of the Messiah. He wasn’t too concerned with the company that he kept. All of those who were lost—even the bad guys, or should I say even the good guys—were welcome to be found.

In the purpose of his mission, we find a new purpose. Saved by grace we can live Lent with purpose as the people of the Resurrection.