a moment with zacchaeus

(This is something I wrote for a Lsermon on Luke 19. I decided to write from the perspective of Zacchaeus, rather than a biblical commentator, which I am not.)

Have you ever had one of those moments, those split-second moments that seem to last forever? You can think a million thoughts in one-thousandth of a second. The world freezes. Things start to come into focus. Yeah. I’m having one of those moments right now.

I’m in a tree, a sycamore tree in the middle of town, surrounded by a huge crowd of people, and everyone is staring at me. You see, there’s this guy, Jesus of Nazareth, who came to town today. People say he can work miracles, and his teachings can change your life. People say he’s the son of God. I wanted to see him, but so did everyone else in town. And when you’re shorter than most of the children in town, seeing above the crowds is kind of impossible.

So I climbed this tree. It worked, I saw Jesus passing through the crowds. The thing is, he saw me too, and then something incredible happened—he spoke to me. He knew my name! He said, “Zacchaeus, come down from there!” And then he told me he needed to stay at my house. Everything went quiet. Every head turned. And that’s where I am now, in a tree. In this moment, this split-second moment.

Maybe I should explain. I’m Zacchaeus. I’m a tax collector, a chief tax collector to be exact. I told you I was short, but I’m not sure you understand how short I really am. It’s ridiculous. I’ve always been this way, shorter than everyone else. Never able to reach things, never able to see above things. In Hebrew school, I couldn’t even hold the scrolls open far enough to read the texts for the rabbi. And the teasing, oh the teasing. Kids can be so cruel. But whatever, I learned to deal. So what if I was short? I wasn’t going to let myself be less than anyone else. In fact, I would find something to do with my life that would give me power over people. I would show them.

I guess you could say I have a complex.

So I became a tax collector. I must say, I’m pretty good at it. As a tax collector I have the power of Rome behind me. Do you know how powerful that makes me? People who used to tease me now tremble when I knock on their doors. Okay, I may not have many friends. I don’t have any friends, actually. But I have money. I have power. No one is making fun of me now. No one is really doing much of anything to me now, except giving me their money.

To be honest, it’s not a great life. It’s not just that people don’t like me; they despise me. I try to act like it doesn’t bother me, but it does. I’ve never been welcome anywhere, I’ve never really belonged. I used to care, but after awhile I just kind of shut off. The more I can cheat people out of their money, the better. Why should I care about them? No one has ever cared about me. No one even bothers to talk to me anymore.

Except that now someone has. This Jesus of Nazareth, he just invited himself to my house. He knows my name. He wants to stay with me. I can see it in the eyes of everyone staring—disbelief. Disgust. They’re thinking to themselves, “Why is Jesus going to stay with him? Everybody hates him. He’s dishonest. He’s a sinner.” You know what? I’m asking myself the same thing.

I know that this Jesus guy has only asked to stay at my house, but even from up here in this tree I can see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice—he cares about me. Genuinely. I matter to him. It’s a scary thing when someone unexpectedly loves you, for no reason at all, at least, no reason that you can see. I don’t think I have ever experienced that before.

If I were to be honest, and I might as well be honest, I am a cheat. I take too much money from people, just because I can. Because I want to have something they don’t. Because it makes me feel like I’m worth, I don’t know…something. Except, if that’s all I’m worth, if knocking people down to build myself up is all I’m worth, I’m not worth very much am I?

And yet Jesus wants to stay with me. Out of everyone here, Jesus picked me. I don’t know, maybe it was easy to pick me out because I’m the only one up in a tree. Whatever the reason, I’ll take it. I can tell by the look in his eyes, Jesus knows who I am. I mean, he knew my name after all. He can hear everyone muttering that I’m a sinner. And yet there he stands, looking into my eyes. None of it matters. He knows about me, and yet I really feel that he loves me. He loves me anyway.

Is that what this is like, being loved? I’ve got to say, it feels pretty amazing. I had no idea. How simple was that to do, just offering acceptance to someone who needs it? And now, I can’t really explain it, but I feel so much lighter. It’s as though all my worries and all that stuff I drag around in my heart is gone. Wouldn’t it be something if everyone could feel like this?

I want to do that. I want to give other people the same kind of love that was just given to me. I’m going to do that. I’m going to get down from this tree and, well I don’t know exactly what I’ll do next. There are so many people in this town who have so little and need so much, I could give some things I own to them. I could give back the money I cheated from people. Or, I could give them back the amount times two! No, times four!

This Jesus guy, he’s really something. I mean, I know it’s only been a moment, but I am different. I want to go out and do something better with my life. It might be difficult at first for people to accept what I have to offer, but I don’t feel worried about that. This love I’ve received, it’ll be enough to carry me through. It’s amazing how a simple moment can transform you and change your life forever.