Until Zacchaeus was visited
so long ago
by saving grace in Jericho,
he’d known no joy nor satisfaction
in all that he’d possessed or wrongly
gained.
Instead, he’d yearned for something
he could not attain:
The sight of you, 0 Lord, eluded
him,
for he was small of stature (and
of heart).
But throwing off his dignity and
pride,
he climbed the sycamore and
grew taller than he’d ever been
before.
And from this new height,
he won his first glimpse of you.
Passing by that blessed tree,
you probed its leafy shelter with
keen eyes;
and catching sight of the chief
of tax collectors
perched (as if awaiting fate — or
was it grace he hoped to meet there?)
so precariously in his post,
you stripped bare his soul
and looked into his longing.
Then suddenly sure with knowledge
of his need,
you offered yourself to him as guest:
Zacchaeus, make haste and come down;
for I must stay at your house today.
Honored by such favor and request,
gladly did Zacchaeus descend
to be host and welcome you into
his home and heart.
And as that humbled heart swelled
great with generosity
in gratitude that you’d so gifted
him with grace,
more gladly still did he give half
his goods away
and repay fourfold his failings.
Yet far greater was the recompense
that he received:
Since salvation came that happy
day to him and all his house,
the little man’s no longer stunted
by his greed and ill-gotten gains.
Growing to full stature in you,
0 Lord,
Zacchaeus now stands straight and
tall.
