Up a Tree

Given that it’s Lent (and if you’ve been following the blog the last few weeks and you know the theme of meals with Jesus on the way to Jerusalem and the cross), you probably guessed from the title that this week’s blog is about Zacchaeus.

I’ve been challenged as I’ve considered this familiar story again (and the song that always pops into my head - “Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he…”) to see it differently. How often do we find ourselves up a tree, perhaps not because we can’t see due to being vertically challenged but maybe because we just need to get away from the crowd. The crowd hated Zacchaeus almost by default because he was a tax collector, and we know that he had defrauded people so they had legitimate beefs with him. Whether the crowd loves us or hates us, maybe we’re up a tree to escape.

Or maybe we’re up a tree because we recognize that we desperately need some perspective. It’s hard to get the full picture when all we can see are people’s backs. It’s hard to get a sense of what is truly important when we’re pulled into a mob mentality. But up in those branches we can look down on the rest, hopefully with compassion but possibly with judgement. We have a sense of security and being above whatever could go wrong down there. We may even feel separate from it and not really engaged or responsible.

What trees have you been climbing lately and why? When stress becomes too much, especially in this busy season of planning in the church, have you been needing to get up and away from it all? Have you become tired of conflict-laden politics and everyone’s complaints and concerns and demands on you? Are you just wanting the calm of being sheltered in the shady leaves perched on a branch, checked out from the chaos below?

Jesus saw Zacchaeus and sees us too and knows exactly what we need. The Messiah inviting Himself over for dinner isn’t the first thing I would want to have happen. That alone might make me scurry up a tree. But for Zacchaeus it was a valuing of him that no one else ever really did. Jesus choosing him out of that whole crowd was a big deal. Jesus also chooses us, even if we aren’t feeling terribly worthy or deserving. Jesus accepts whatever time and welcome we offer Him, knowing that we so need that encounter and to be reminded of our worth beyond our jobs and responsibilities, our failures and frustrations.

Even as I type this I’m aware that I’m writing this to myself. I’ve been trying to get into a daily rhythm of reading scripture, reflecting and listening for God. I actually find this to be getting harder the older I am and not easier. My schedule is full and there is always that I pile on that seems worthwhile with no end in sight to it. Constant texts, calls and full inboxes have sucked me into that space of addiction to screens and the dopamine hit of someone connecting with me. Meditating in still and quiet? Slowing down my brain enough to let Jesus take up residence and speak in the silence? Difficult and also kind of terrifying.

And yet deep down I know that He is extending the same loving welcome to me as to Zacchaeus. No judgement for my messing up (even though He knows all about it). No anger or sarcasm or guilt. Just an earnest desire to connect, to commune with me, to listen and restore me and take some of the burden. I know this all in my head, but getting it to my heart and trusting that Jesus will be gentle with me is another story. Us type A control freaks are on a schedule and Jesus can be unpredictable.

My prayer for me and for you is that in these remaining days of Lent we can allow Jesus to call out to us individually in love, whether we’re up a tree or in the crowd or not even at the road as He passes by. May we let Him invite Himself into our lives. May we engage fully with Him as though He was sitting with us at our kitchen table and in that time may we receive and realize that He has nothing but love for us.