Do you know Doctor Fritz Haber? If you don't, you may find it odd that you don't, since it is because of him that you are likely alive today. Back in the middle-late 1800s, when Fritz was born, farming techniques were technologically advancing, but still rather feeble, oftentimes unable to address basic needs. Just prior to his birth, for example, nearly one million people died in Ireland due to starvation (the great potato famine). Farmers understood the basic tenets needed to grow crops and they had discovered how nitrogen, better than any manure, could double and even quadruple crop yields. But nitrogen, even though it is the most abundant gas on earth (equating to about 78% of our air), is rather rare in a solid, fertilizer state. Doctor Fritz Haber changed that. He developed a process that was able to synthesize ammonia from nitrogen and hydrogen -- which could then be further synthesized to form nitrogen-rich fertilizer. Because of this tremendous scientific achievement, crop yields went up exponentially, as did the world's population. Starvation became a thing of the past in western civilizations. And for this, Fritz won the Noble Prize in Chemistry in 1918. "Fritz has made bread from the air," they said.
But despite this incredible achievement, many of Fritz' contemporaries boycotted the awards ceremony. There were protests; many were ashamed that he received the award. Why was this so? What was the controversy?
Well, as Fritz was working with ammonia, he was also tinkering with chlorine gas. He had an incredible intellect that was matched by a tremendous German patriotism. World War I was beginning and Fritz was wanting to contribute to the war effort. He invented weaponized chlorine and mustard gases -- and he personally oversaw their deployment on the fields of battle. His invention would lead to a new angel of death descending into the depths of the trenches. And more, he would be directly responsible for the gases used in concentration camps in the Second World War. He would be known as the "Father of Chemical Warfare." And Doctor Albert Einstein, a contemporary, would call Doctor Fritz Haber the most "tragic figure in modern science."
To me, this is fascinating: that a man, so gifted, so in love with his country, and who on the one hand advanced the lives of many, would on the other hand be the direct and active cause of the deaths of millions. How could this be? And what in the world does he have to do with Zacchaeus and Jesus in today's Gospel?
Zacchaeus was equally talented. A shrewd business man-- and clearly so: you didn't get into good standing with the Romans by being a dolt or gullible. And for a man of short stature-- the Romans enjoyed the "bella figura"-- Zacchaeus clearly had to have made an impression. Then, despite such a short stature, he could collect and compel and himself amass a fortune -- it all speaks to an individual with great talents and capabilities.
But at the end of the day, we don't call Zacchaeus "the most tragic tax collector in Jewish times."
And that is because, on this day, Zacchaeus meets Jesus and finds his moral compass.
Fritz, for all of his love of man and country, did not have a moral compass -- or, if he did, it could easily spin in arbitrary directions, whichever seemed most expedient or pragmatic for the cause he arbitrarily chose as most important.
But for Zacchaeus-- when Jesus commands "Come down!"-- the needle of Zacchaeus' moral compass immediately points north. It has been calibrated, some may say "conformed," to the Truth. Hence, Zacchaeus immediately declares: "This day, I will give half of my possessions to the poor. And if I have extorted anyone, I will repay them four times over."
What a change!
This moment is tremendous for me. First, it reveals the incredible powers that Zacchaeus had beneath all of his intellectual and business prowess: he has an phenomenal power for justice and charity. "I will repay four times over!" Now that's an incredible act of penance!
And second-- and perhaps even more importantly-- it reveals the incredible power of Jesus. He says two words: "Come down!" And Zacchaeus comes down. It reminds me of how simple the proclamation was when God brought creation into being: "Let there be light!" Or when the priest, by the power of the Holy Spirit, changes bread into God-- not making "bread from air," but a greater miracle of bread into God-- when he says "This is my Body." The power in God's voice, in His Word, when He says a thing -- is ... incomprehensible, unfathomable, and so very beautiful to me. Truly, Lord, you can do all things! Just command my conversion, please, and let it be done!
Here is the theme, then, of that first reading. Notice the power of God: he overlooks our sins and spares us, rebuking us little by little so that we may repent. Of course, He could end us all, as in the flood, for all the world is in His hands and is as nothing in His scales, like mere dew. He can do all things, but He looks with clemency upon us. And I love this line: He "loathes nothing [He has] made."
He does not loathe you. He does not loathe this world, despite its troubles. But He does want its conversion. Which is why He came to it and comes to it again today. He comes to you. And He says to you: to where is your moral compass pointing? In which direction is your life pointed?
"Come down," He says. "I want to dine at your place tonight."
Imagine this for a moment. Zacchaeus could have felt dread! (Was his conversion real? The Lord was about the find out, oh God!) But it was because the Lord wanted to bring all the friends to conversion. He wanted to speak with them over the intimacy of dinner and fellowship, where the doors of the heart could be opened and heart could speak to heart.
I think you and I need to do this. Most of us pray before dinner. But is that moment a true opening of the heart to Jesus, to hear Him, to let Him recalibrate our lives and our moral compass so that we point in all things to Him? For me, I love to have a cup of coffee in the morning and sit with Him. I can bring to Him the worries of my day; the struggles of our country and who I am to vote for; the gratitude I have for His mercy "renewed each morning."
Here, I remember a great quote by the French novelist Leon Bloy. He said: "The only real sadness, the only real failure, the only great tragedy in life, is not to become a saint."
To become a saint requires not that we are intelligent or shrewd or successful in the ways of the world. It requires that we have a moral compass that always and everywhere points to Jesus, that leads us to Him, to converse with Him and be found and led by Him.
It is the difference between Fritz and Zacchaeus, the world and the Christian.
To where-- or should I say: to whom-- does your moral compass point?
+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment