Isaiah prophesied during the reigns of four kings of Judah in the second half of the eighth century BC, when the Assyrian empire dominated the region. The ‘book’ that bears his name is the longest single prophetic collection in the Bible, and includes material from nearly three centuries. Isaiah 1 is an introductory collection of poems and fragments. Verses 10-18 are difficult to date. Their critique of worship in the face of injustice is common to several prophets (see also Jeremiah 7.21ff.; Hosea 6.4ff.; Amos 5.21-24; Micah 6.6-8), and also appears in the Psalms (e.g. Psalm 40.6; 51.1-17).
Isaiah accuses Israel’s leaders of making their land no better than that of the archetypal symbols of inhospitable oppression, Sodom and Gomorrah (see Genesis 19). Temple worship may well be flourishing, with its animal sacrifices (v.11), incense (v.13), prayers (v.15) and ritual washing (v.16), but by ignoring injustice, worshippers have the wrong sort of blood on their hands. Their attempts at cleansing are merely superficial, and God is simply not interested (vv.15-17).
The wellbeing of the groups mentioned in verse 17 should be a particular concern of rulers (see Psalm 72). So the prophet demands an altogether different kind of worship, which will benefit rather than disregard those at the sharp end of an unfair society. Rulers too have much to gain: their sins will be healed and transformed as dramatically as the bleaching of blood (v.18).
Gospel: Luke 19.1-10
After last week’s fictional hero, Luke introduces us to a real tax collector. Jesus has already been criticised for mixing with his kind (Luke 5.30; 15.1ff.). Zacchaeus becomes an unlikely role model for rich Christians in Luke’s church, a perfect foil for the respectable and well-intentioned rich man who is unable to rise to Jesus’ demands and who is left disappointed (18.18-23).
The Romans contracted out the collection of taxes to locals. As chief tax collector in the Jericho area, Zacchaeus would have further subcontracted the work. Taxes were levied on a wide range of goods and services – land, agricultural produce, fish, imports and exports – as well as on individuals. Collection was open to abuse from the additional levies that tax collectors were free to impose. This was a risky business run by disreputable people, some of whom profited greatly at the expense of their own people. So it is not difficult to imagine why Zacchaeus and his kind were regarded with such widespread contempt.
We are not told why Zacchaeus wants to see Jesus. And Jesus seems to take at least as much initiative (v.10), thereby realising the message of the parables of the ‘lost’ in chapter 15. If the fractured family of Abraham is to be healed, a spirit of compassion is needed (see 18.13). For his part, Zacchaeus is prepared to invest his commission in the poor, as well as the victims of the unfair imperial economics that he represents (he pays back far more than the law of restitution in Leviticus 6.5 and Numbers 5.7 requires). The story shows how hospitality and generosity are among the hallmarks of a down-to-earth vision of salvation that would surely fulfil the hopes of Isaiah and the prophets.
Rowan Williams notices the significance of Jesus’ being on the receiving end of hospitality here (vv.6-8). Jesus’ welcome sets people free to invite him into their lives, and to embrace others, too. This turns the Eucharist into a parable of salvation, in which, says Williams, ‘we are welcomed and we welcome; we welcome God and we welcome our unexpected neighbours’.
(Rowan Williams, Being Christian: Baptism, Bible, Eucharist, Prayer, 2014, SPCK p.43, ISBN 978 0281071715).
The links between the readings
The vision of salvation in the Gospel has far more in common with Isaiah than with 2 Thessalonians. Paul’s extravagant language in 1.7-10 drives a deep divide between believers and the rest. Isaiah, Jesus and Luke are far from shy in offering sharp critique – particularly of the self-contained and self-satisfied – but they also seek to heal the wounds of the divided family of Abraham.