Too Short

             Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.

When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. (Luke 19:1-6)

          I’m not sure when the idea entered popular culture, but there’s a tradition or idea that if one wishes to seek wisdom or find truth, one must go to Tibet and climb tall mountains. After dragging oneself over the lip of a thousand-foot cliff, one would find some little old monk sitting in a cave only big enough for him to do so, and he would say one sentence that would supposedly answer your question, if you could only figure out what it meant. The Bible makes it clear that we should be this determined in our search for wisdom, but tromping to Tibet is foolish, and would be foolish even if one could find some monk and hear some word of wisdom unless one had thoroughly and repeatedly exhausted the nearer and clearer sources of wisdom. I suspect that if such a monk actually existed, his answers are unclear for at least two reasons. He doesn’t know the answer to the question and/or the question is so simple or so trivial that he gives an obscure answer for wasting his time.

          Zacchaeus faced a miniature version of the trip to Tibet. He wanted to see Jesus, but so did everyone else. There’s something about seeing someone famous. I saw Pat Nixon in the 1972 Rose Bowl Parade. I saw Steve Green at some point, and Larnel Harris. I talked with Tom Ridge, former governor of Pennsylvania and the first Director of Homeland Security. I’ve seen what may be the oldest Hippo in the world and taken his picture. Somehow, we think things like this confer status. Millions of people may see, speak to, or even photograph these people (or animals) and the social status of the individual seen may no longer be (or may have never been) what we imagine them to be, but we saw them.

          But Zacchaeus had two problems. First, he was short. He couldn’t see over the shoulders of the people along the road. Secondly, he was a tax collector, and the only way a tax collector, and tax collectors were about as popular as the person who carries a sign calling others to vote for a political candidate – at the rally of the competing candidate.

          So Zacchaeus did what he may have done many times before. He climbed a tree. And then the unthinkable happened. Jesus ignored the crowds and focused on Zacchaeus. That might be considered a small surprise. After all, the Pharisees and Sadducees would both be likely to call out the tax collector up the tree. Tax collectors were villains and probably the butt of jokes and comments. But Jesus addressed him by name and announced that He was going to eat at Zacchaeus’ home that day – rudely inviting Himself to someone’s house and expecting (as would have been natural) to be fed!

          But here’s the point that strikes me. Would Jesus invite Himself to your house? The issue isn’t whether He would invite Himself somewhere. It’s clear He would invite Himself where He wanted to go if it suited Him. But are you one of the people who take it for granted that Jesus would invite Himself into your life? Or are you one of the people who would consider it a surprise – even a shock!

          I’d consider it a surprise and a shock. I’d even probably consider it a trauma. My house isn’t neat, clean, and in tip-top shape. It would be embarrassing to have anyone visit – but especially not someone who knows about buildings or someone known for good housekeeping. A visitor would know just how badly I have failed in life. In that, chances are good that I’m not like Zacchaeus, who probably had servants to keep his home looking like a showplace and have dinner ready whenever he came home.

          Of course, Jesus isn’t overly concerned with the physical house or the quality of the food. He’s more interested in the “house” that is the person. But I tend to think I am in worse shape than my house – like Zacchaeus. I fall “short” of other people’s expectations and sometimes do things that make me stand out like a sore thumb, like “climbing a tree.”