When He reached the place,
Jesus looked up and said,
“Zacchaeus, come down quickly,
for today I must stay at your house.”
In the bustling crowd, a sycamore stood, its branches cradling a man of small stature. Zacchaeus, the tax collector, misunderstood, yearned for a glimpse of the Teacher's capture.
Jesus, the seeker of hearts lost and found, lifted His eyes to the leafy refuge above. Zacchaeus, He called, the very air spellbound, descend swiftly, for today, in your home, I'll rove.
Startled, Zacchaeus clung to the bough, his heart racing, anticipation ablaze. The Savior's words, a divine vow, a feast of grace awaited in those sun-kissed rays. Down he tumbled, limbs and soul alight,
The threshold crossed, redemption's embrace. In the humble abode, day turned to night, Jesus dined with the lost, love's eternal grace.
May we all find our own sycamore tree, where grace descends and salvation awaits.
Pericope:
V: The Journey to Jerusalem: Luke's Travel Narrative
ZACCHAEUS THE TAX COLLECTOR
Published:
November 19, 2024, 6:49 AM
November 21, 2023, 8:45 AM
Reflection Source:
