Greetje: New page: {{info}}Zacchaeus sat down on the grass
Without a word. "You know, it's crass
To sit with beggars on the ground,"
The old man said. "You might be found.
Your clients might come...

Greetje — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 16:32:59 GMT

New page: {{info}}Zacchaeus sat down on the grass Without a word. "You know, it's crass To sit with beggars on the ground," The old man said. "You might be found. Your clients might come...

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{{info}}Zacchaeus sat down on the grass Without a word. "You know, it's crass To sit with beggars on the ground," The old man said. "You might be found. Your clients might come by and think You've lost your job. They'd sing and drink To that, you know. You'd take some raps For sittin' here. You care?" 

"Perhaps. How did you know that it was me?" "You smell like money, Zach. I see With this," he pointed to his nose. "Everybody smells that goes To Jericho. I mean, you tell The kind of person by his smell Right? Levites have a smell and priests And prostitutes and all the beasts That ramble by my bed. It's true. And tax-collectors too, like you. All have a smell. It's money Zach, And nothing more. I smell the lack Of everything . . . but gold — the scent Of wealth . . . and nothing you were meant To be."

"Your poverty, old man, Has made you bold. Nobody can Berate a publican like that Who has a dime to lose. I've got The power to dip in any pot I please."

"And when your hand comes up It comes up empty and you sup Alone, and find your only friend A beggar at the northern end Of Jericho. It's been a long Time, friend. Your voice is not so strong As it was then. How come you're low?" "For being blind, old man, you know An awful lot. I'm low because I'm damned, that's all. I know the laws Of God: Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt Not covet anything. I felt Once, maybe twice, in all my days, A moment free from greed. It pays, I said, it pays when people scrape And bow before this Roman cape. I always wanted to be tall; Instead I make the others fall. If I cannot look down, you see, Then they will all look up to me." "And did it work, Zacchaeus, tell Me, did it work? I'm sure they fell. Do you feel tall?"

"I said I'm doomed, I'm lost. The whole damned city's groomed For hell just like before. The curse Of Joshua still lingers worse Above the plains of Jericho Than when he spoke it as a foe After the walls came tumbling down. ‘Cursed be the man who builds this town,' He said. ‘Who rises up and lays Foundations in this place will raise A tombstone for his sons.' And so It came nine centuries ago A man named Hiel from Bethel built The fallen Jericho and spilt The blood of Abiram his son. And I don't think the curse is done. Do you, old Bartimaeus? Fears. Blind. Poor. A beggar fifty years. You're jinxed, old man, like me; you come From Jericho, a hopeless bum. Our mothers had a cursed womb, They bore us to a living tomb: Yours is as dark as night can be; And mine, that all look down on me." The beggar thought a while, then said, "I think if you would lift your head And look to God beyond the height Of other men, there would be light Beyond the tomb of your own greed, And God would take away the need You feel to stand above the rest, And pardon all that you've confessed. There is more hope, Zacchaeus, than You know. The Son of David can Destroy the curse of Jericho." Zacchaeus smirked, "So God's no foe To me? You think he'd set me free? That I'll believe, when you can see! Perhaps the God who heals the blind Could make this callous miser kind."

Just then Zacchaeus heard a crowd Approaching from the north. "It's loud," The beggar said. "Must be someone Important. You had better run And find some other company To keep besides the likes of me. Farewell, Zacchaeus, don't forget, Beyond the height of men, to set Your gaze on God. He'll take the greed, And then with that he'll take the need To be what you are not."

And so Zacchaeus ran to Jericho And waited for the crowd inside The city gate. He sought to hide Himself at first, but couldn't see, And so Zacchaeus climbed a tree. And as he hunched down on the limb He thought, "What sort of stupid whim Is this? A wealthy publican With Roman power, a gentleman With balconies where I can stand Alone and look down on the grand Array of garden pools! And here I sit up in a tree! I fear My mind is getting weak. I spend The morning with the blind, a friend One minute to the beggar poor, And then perched in a sycamore, Just like a boy on holiday Who thinks the king is on the way."

His thought was interrupted by The noise around the gate. But why, He wondered, did his heart beat like On a day of siege, and strike The muscles of his chest, and take Away his breath and make him shake? Then suddenly the man stepped through The gate. Zacchaeus gasped, leaned to And almost lost his grip. For there Stood Bartimaeus. Same white hair, Same wrinkled face, same smile, but no More cedar cane, no one to show Him where to go. The other man Beside him watched the beggar scan The crowd. Then Bartimaeus spied Him in the sycamore beside The road. He touched the stranger's hand And pointed, just as they had planned. Zacchaeus saw them come and heard The stranger say, "I have a word Here from your friend that if he came Along you would receive my name And let me eat with you tonight. My name is Jesus. Is that right?"

Zacchaeus jumped down to the road. He felt as if an ancient load Was lifted from his soul, the curse Of Jericho destroyed, the purse Of avarice turned upside down. He ran before them through the town Just like a happy child. He spread Before them all his food and said, "If Bartimaeus now can see, I know there's power enough for me To give my money to the poor And rest that I can be more sure Of love and hope than if I built A thousand barns and bore the guilt Of greed. And I give back four-fold The crooked debts I owe; my gold Henceforth, Lord Jesus, is not mine But shall be all my days a sign That God bent down when I was low, And came to me in Jericho."

To which the Lord replied, "Today I put salvation on display: The blind can see, the cursed are free, Now be what you were made to be."

And so let candle three exhort, And burn its way from tall to short, Give all the brightness that we need, Consume the darkness of our greed O Lord, from envy set us free To be what you made us to be.

Zacchaeus and Bartimaeus - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}}Zacchaeus sat down on the grassWithout a word. "You know, it's crassTo sit with beggars on the ground,"The old man said. "You might be found.Your clients might come...

Greetje: New page: {{info}}Zacchaeus sat down on the grass
Without a word. "You know, it's crass
To sit with beggars on the ground,"
The old man said. "You might be found.
Your clients might come...