Oops!
In one of my previous parishes, we all had our own coffee mugs that we used for coffee hour. Everyone brought one from home, and we stored them on a rack in the fellowship hall during the week. It probably won’t surprise you to learn that my coffee mug was Star Trek-themed.
Ever since elementary school, I’ve been a huge fan of Star Trek, especially Mr. Spock—the ever-logical Vulcan.
Perhaps Spock’s most memorable moment comes in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.
At the climax of the film, the USS Enterprise is severely damaged after a battle with Khan Noonien Singh, a genetically engineered superhuman seeking revenge on Admiral Kirk. In a final act of vengeance, Khan activates the Genesis Device, a powerful terraforming weapon that will destroy everything in its vicinity.
The Enterprise cannot escape the blast radius in time because its warp drive is damaged. Spock, realizing the dire situation, makes the ultimate decision. He enters the radiation-filled engine room to repair the warp drive, knowing it will expose him to lethal levels of radiation.
Despite Dr. McCoy’s protests, Spock declares, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few… or the one.” He successfully repairs the warp drive, allowing the Enterprise to escape just as the Genesis Device explodes.
Afterward, Kirk and the crew find Spock dying in the radiation chamber. In a heart-wrenching moment, Spock tells Kirk, “I have been, and always shall be, your friend. Live long and prosper.” He dies shortly thereafter, sacrificing himself for the safety of the crew and the mission.
This may be the most iconic moment in all of Star Trek—if not in all of cinema. What makes it so powerful is how deeply it resonates with our own experiences of sacrifice for the sake of building community—whether for our church, our families, or our neighborhoods. To create something bigger than ourselves, we sometimes have to set ourselves aside.
Ugh!
But sometimes, we fail to act as Spock did. We succumb to the passions the Church Fathers warn us about: selfishness, pride, and greed. When we do, we not only endanger our own souls by giving in to these passions, but we also cause others to suffer.
Take Ebenezer Scrooge, the central figure in Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, as an example.
Entirely focused on accumulating wealth, Scrooge refuses to extend generosity or kindness to anyone. His cold dismissal of charity—“Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?”—reveals his lack of compassion, leaving the most vulnerable in society to suffer while he hoards his riches. This indifference creates a ripple effect of harm throughout his community.
Scrooge’s treatment of Bob Cratchit, his underpaid and overworked clerk, illustrates the personal cost of his greed. Despite Bob’s loyalty, Scrooge denies him a living wage or even basic comforts, such as sufficient coal to warm the office. This forces Bob’s family to live in poverty, exacerbating Tiny Tim’s suffering from an untreated illness. Scrooge’s selfishness not only harms Bob but also puts Tiny Tim’s life at risk.
Beyond his employees, Scrooge’s neglect damages his personal relationships. His nephew Fred consistently invites him to join in Christmas celebrations, but Scrooge rebuffs these gestures with bitterness, isolating himself and hurting his family. His refusal to engage in love or fellowship deprives both him and others of meaningful connection, creating emotional and relational voids.
Moreover, Scrooge’s refusal to contribute to charity impacts the broader community. In Victorian England, the wealthy had a role in supporting the poor, and Scrooge’s indifference exacerbates the suffering of those already in need. Dickens uses Scrooge to critique societal neglect, showing how one individual’s greed can ripple outward, causing widespread harm.
Though Scrooge is just a fictional character, he represents the darkness that can overtake our souls when we act only for ourselves.
Aha!
Today, we met another “Scrooge”—though this one’s name was Zacchaeus.
Luke tells us that he was a chief tax collector and very rich. In other words, this is insider language for: this man is very greedy. Zacchaeus had cheated his community by collecting more taxes than Rome demanded. By exploiting others, he lined his own pockets while increasing their suffering under Roman oppression.
But Jesus saw more than Zacchaeus’s selfishness and called out to him anyway. He told him, “Come down from the sycamore tree, for I must stay at your house today.”
By showing compassion to Zacchaeus and spending time with him, Jesus opened his eyes to see the community as part of himself. Instead of hoarding wealth to build himself up, Zacchaeus repaid those he had cheated fourfold. He also gave half of what he owned to the poor. Zacchaeus, once consumed by greed, now willingly sacrificed so that others could be blessed.
Jesus showed Zacchaeus—and us—that being “rich” isn’t about money. True richness comes from building community by helping those in need around us.
Whee!
And building community is what Jesus is all about.
Last week, we encountered ten lepers—outcasts without a community. We saw how Jesus healed them and brought them back into society, showing how healing produces community.
This week, Jesus builds community again, this time by opening Zacchaeus’s heart and showing him that generosity produces far greater riches than hoarding. Being part of a community is central to being a Christian. After all, St. Paul spent his entire ministry building communities centered on the crucified Christ.
I especially love the imagery St. Paul uses to describe the Church as a body. He writes:
“For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.” (1 Corinthians 12:12-13)
And every part of this body is needed.
“If the foot would say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body.” (1 Corinthians 12:15-20)
Because this body is made up of such great diversity—each part, from toenails to belly buttons to earlobes, plays a role—we all benefit from it.
“But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.” (1 Corinthians 12:24b-26)
We each share our gifts, and in turn, we all benefit from the gifts of others.
Yeah!
Encountering Jesus changed Zacchaeus. His heart of stone started to beat, and he realized his responsibility to build up the community. He realized he had a part to play—and that, by playing it, he could make a big difference.
But Jesus is also speaking to us. This morning, we, too, have come to see Christ. We may not have climbed a sycamore tree to catch a glimpse of Him, and we may be trying to hide in the back pew, but Jesus still sees us.
And just like with Zacchaeus, Jesus says to us, “Come down from where you are, for I must stay at your house today.”
The question is: how will we respond? Will we be changed by our encounter with Jesus, or will we walk away pretending nothing ever happened?
The choice is yours. Jesus and the community are waiting for your answer.
Amen.