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.
