Long ago, on a planet far away, there was a prime-time television show called "Laugh In." Goldie Hawn (Kate Hudson's mother) was part of a weekly running gag. Something silly would happen near Goldie or to her, and she would say, "Hey! Is this another short joke? I'm sick of short jokes." Zacchaeus' story is the longest-running short joke in the world. It's the story of a short guy, climbing a tree to see a famous preacher. The thing is, Jesus doesn't treat Zacchaeus as he was a short joke. He treats Zacchaeus seriously.

Or maybe the story seems serious because the lectionary committee has paired Zacchaeus with Habakkuk's dialogue with God. It's a funny pairing, isn't it? Habakkuk complaining to God, actually questioning the Almighty about why bad things happen to good people, why God uses bad guys to do God's work, and how long justice will have to wait. Then we get Zacchaeus' story: a certified "bad person" to whom good things are happening. What should we be learning here?

Here is the connection that I see. Both Habakkuk and Zacchaeus were looking for some answers. They have questions, and they expect answers. The questions they both had in mind were about the nature of God. Habakkuk wants answers, and he wants them right now. "How long shall I cry for help?" he asks. His complaining adds details about violence and the failure of justice to show up, and then (I can just see him!) he folds his arms, and declares, "That does it! I'm gonna stand here until God gives me some answers." Stolid. Immovable.

Zacchaeus, on the other hand, is more proactive. Can't you just see him in that crowd, hopping up, running ahead a little ways, jumping up, peering between the taller heads and shoulders, jumping up, running ahead. Never quite catching sight of the famous preacher. Luke says Zacchaeus was "trying to see who Jesus was." Trying to see who Jesus was. What a motive. Not even the disciples can figure out who Jesus is. But the short guy can't see, so he climbs a tree. When Jesus comes by, he calls Zacchaeus by name (even though he had never met him before) and invites himself over to his house. Jesus uses the name that Zacchaeus' neighbors must have thought was a bad joke. "Zacchaeus" - it means innocent, clean. This guy was so far from being innocent. He wasn't just a tax collector - which to the Jews meant collaborator and extortionist. Zacchaeus was the chief tax collector - the scummiest of the scumbags, and he wants to know who Jesus is. He is as proactive about getting his questions answered as the prophet Habakkuk is stolid and unmoved about demanding his answers.

The answer that Zacchaeus gets starts with him being called by name (Innocent) and ends with him being restored to covenant community, when Jesus calls him a son of Abraham. Being included in that community means that salvation applies to Zacchaeus in particular.

The answer to Habakkuk isn't a declaration of good news about salvation from God. Habakkuk stands immovable and demands that God answer why bad things are happening and justice delays so long, and the answer he gets is some theologizing about how righteous people - the Truly Religious - don't mind about suffering, because they are so busy loving God. How many of you, given the chance to avoid suffering would take it? Yes. Forgive me, but if we lean too much into this "righteous live by their faith," I'm afraid we get into the theology that supports Pie-in-the-Sky-in-the-Sweet-by-and-by. That is not what God is telling Habakkuk. God says it a little more theologically, but what is meant here is what my mother used to tell me: If you are only thinking about how miserable you are, you won't have the energy to see the good things that are happening. If she was really frustrated she might snap, "Oh for pete's sake, it's only a hangnail! It's not like your hand was amputated." Put more theologically, God is inviting Habakkuk to stop looking at the injustice long enough to concentrate on the Giver of the justice he so much longs for. Zacchaeus' story, believe it or not, helps us see this. It's in the extravagance of his gratitude. Jesus starts the extravagance game going by inviting himself to stay with Zacchaeus, after which he informs everyone present that the little guy is too a son a Abraham. Meanwhile, Zacchaeus has already proved what Jesus claims about his being a real Jew, because says he will give away half his possessions and repay ill-gotten gains. There were religious laws governing this sort of thing, but Zacchaeus goes above and beyond legal demands. He is so overwhelmed by the extravagance of Jesus' salvation gesture that he empties his pockets - extravagance in response to God's extravagance. We're good Presbyterians. We know that no one, not even Zacchaeus, "buys" their way to salvation. Jesus' declaration of forgiveness was all that was needed. Zacchaeus responds to God's extravagance towards him by mirroring that extravagance. Maybe this is Luke's way of saying the genuine-ness of salvation is shown by the fruit it bears.

It's as if Zacchaeus has been hanging by a rope, just above the snapping jaws of hungry alligators. The rope is fraying and everybody else on the tour bus is standing in line for ice cream with their backs to him, ignoring his cries. Jesus just grabs Zacchaeus from the ‘gators, sets him down with the tour group, and puts him at the head of the ice cream line. How would you feel, once the relief and shock and joy wore off? Gratitude? Gratitude equivalent to how life-saving that act of Jesus' was? Extravagance would be an appropriate response.

You may have seen the hand-written card on my desk that says, "Stewardship is every-thing you do after you say, ‘I believe . . . ‘" I heard it from Jack Hodges, the general presbyter for the Presbytery of the Cascades, who apparently stole it from Karl Barth. I happen to love that quotation. As session prepares for our stewardship drive, they've been hearing me say that a lot. What that quote means is that stewardship isn't about writing checks. Stewardship is how we act and interact, how we spend our time and care for the earth we live on, how we use our money. It's not just about writing checks to church. Stewardship is one way of understanding the extent of Zacchaeus' gratitude at being reconciled to his faith community. Sure, there is an element of financial repayment, but like those folks in Habakkuk - the righteous ones who live by faith - like those righteous, Zacchaeus isn't so much trying to balance the books as he is trying to shout from the rooftops "Thanks!". Do not believe that Zacchaeus' only response to Jesus' act of forgiveness was to decide to repay what he stole or cheated from people. Stewardship for Zacchaeus, as well as for us, is a whole-life response to a gracious God who gives us all good things.

Unless you haven't been rescued from alligators. In that case, you can afford a lukewarm response to all that God provides. "Oh thanks, God. Nice food. Nice kids. Nice democracy. Nice salvation." Maybe we need to join Habakkuk in taking a hard look at the world around us. Maybe we need to recognize the injustice and wrestle with God over the delay of help. Even if we don't see alligators snapping at our toes as the rope frays above us, maybe we will see that there are other places, people, situations threatened by alligators.

No one deserves salvation. God just gives it. That is a terrible thing! When we were kids and whined to our dad, "I didn't get what I deserved!" my dad used to say, "Thank God no one gets what they deserve." We could never tell if that was good news or bad news. In the case of salvation, friends, it is good news. No one deserves salvation; God just gives it. Whether you notice them or not, we all need to be rescued from alligators, and it doesn't matter whether you call them sin or addictions or brokenness or bad habits or ticklish situations. The appropriate response to that incredible gift of rescue is gratitude. Not a lukewarm, tepid, "Thanks God, that was nice," but an extravagant, whole-life, pocket-emptying response like Zacchaeus'.

When we put Habakkuk ("the righteous will live by faith") next to Zacchaeus, we see that extravagant gratitude receives extravagant blessing. Not because gratitude earns the extravagant blessing, but because it notices it more. Jesus pronounces Zacchaeus restored to the covenant community after Zacchaeus announces that he is going above and beyond the law in restitution. Since Jesus has already invited himself into Zacchaeus' life, this is not a matter of Jesus saving Zacchaeus because he does the right thing. The restoration is announced because Zacchaeus has shown, by giving away most of his money he is making a commitment to restoring relationships broken by his thievery. The way his whole life is lived will change. Imagine the costs he will incur - not in writing checks, but in mending fences and burying hatchets and pouring oil on troubled water. If you have ever done this, you know how expensive it can be. "I'm sorry" are the two most expensive words in any language.

November is stewardship campaign time in our church year. The good news about this time of the year is that we take time to consciously pay attention to how we respond to God's saving work in our lives. Do we say, "Thanks God. Nice food. Nice house." Sort of a lukewarm response to a tepid salvation. Or do we find ourselves with Zacchaeus in this whole salvation thing. "What a great gift! Thanks!" and then not only spend our money, but commit to spending ourselves - our time, our gifts, our weaknesses and strengths. Imagine what you might find out: that not only are the alligators defeated, but the blessings are greater than you had ever imagined. Thanks be to God. THANKS be to God!