A Divine Appointment in Jericho
Author: Stan Guthrie
March 13, 2025
Editor’s note: For our second blog post of Lent, we see the Lord, while resolutely on His way to death on a cross, pausing to impart new life to a man whom everyone else had given up for dead.
The story of Zacchaeus, from Luke 19:1-10, is far more than a cute Sunday school lesson about a “wee little man” who climbed a tree to see Jesus. In fact, the lessons are gigantic. Here’s our text:
1 [Jesus] entered Jericho and was passing through. 2 And behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus. He was a chief tax collector and was rich. 3 And he was seeking to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was small in stature. 4 So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was about to pass that way. 5 And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” 6 So he hurried and came down and received him joyfully. 7 And when they saw it, they all grumbled, “He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.” 8 And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” 9 And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem to be crucified, buried, and raised from the dead (18:31-34). He had just restored the sight of a persistent blind man outside of Jericho (18:35-43). Jericho, with its thick defensive walls, was thousands upon thousands of years old before Joshua, in the Old Testament, ever laid eyes on it.
Jericho, the site of so much death during its long and bloody history, is about to become the scene of an unexpected, even shocking, spiritual rebirth.
The city, situated 825 feet below sea level, is 18 miles northeast of Jerusalem. It is a steep and strenuous ascent to the Holy City, which lies at 2,500 feet in elevation. Jesus, like a first-century rock star, has been drawing huge crowds—full of fans, enemies, and the merely curious.
One of the people in the third group was a man called Zacchaeus, which means “pure” or “innocent.” The name would have been seen by contemporaries as infuriatingly ironic. Tax collectors, especially chief tax collectors, would have been viewed as anything but innocent. They collected the taxes required of Israel’s hated Roman occupiers and thus were seen as traitors.
Although some of their responsibilities were proper and valid, tax collectors were notorious for defrauding their fellow citizens by overcharging them and pocketing the excess. Certainly Zacchaeus must have indulged himself in this sordid game, as, unlike the masses, he was rich.
But, somehow (perhaps after hearing about the blind man outside of town), Jesus had crossed his radar and he wanted to know more. Was this preacher and miracle-worker any different from those who had gone before? Was he, as the formerly blind man had shouted out, the Son of David—the long-awaited Messiah? Was Zacchaeus’s conscience finally working on him—or was it his loneliness?
So he thrust himself into the vulgar masses and tries to get a look as Jesus walked through the ancient city. To no avail. Zacchaeus is short, and no one will step aside to let him see. No matter. Zachaeus, ever resourceful, takes matters into his own hands. He sets off at a run, zig-zagging along, away from the crush of people, until he reaches a sycamore fig tree with a clear vantage point.
The tree, with its short trunk and low canopy, is easy to climb, so he does, perching himself on a sturdy branch like an oversized bird until Jesus should reach the spot. It is an undignified position, especially for a rich and important man such as Zacchaeus. Some of the rubes will undoubtedly mock him, but so what? This might be his only chance to glimpse the Master.
There is Jesus now, coming closer, step by step amid the throngs! Is he going to pass by? No! He looks up, right into the chief tax collector’s eyes, saying, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” What? The pariah of Jericho is called by his name—innocent—and he even gets the honor of hosting the Master.
The call has come. Zacchaeus has hurried into the tree. Now he will hurry down. Jesus must stay with him—it is a divine appointment. Rather than being a grim duty, receiving Jesus into his presumably well-appointed home is pure joy for Zacchaeus.
However, the crowd is not happy. They know who Zacchaeus is—the liar, the bully, the traitor, the cheat. They know him to be not innocent but guilty. Though he’s rich, his ill-gotten money cannot be accepted even if given for charity. He has dirty, impure hands and an even dirtier heart, they say—forgetting their own sinful hearts.
No doubt the little man hears their grumbles, but his formerly icy, stony, grasping soul is suddenly bursting with warmth and life. Everything has changed, even his priorities. While the Master has set his face toward Jerusalem and death (9:51), Zacchaeus is suddenly facing a whole new life.
So without prompting, Zacchaeus tells the Master, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” Think of it—half of his considerable net worth to the poor—just like that! Could any of us have done better? And to his many victims—the “if I have defrauded anyone” is a polite admission of guilt—he offers restitution far above the requirements of the Mosaic Law, which mandated return of the principal amount plus one-fifth (Leviticus 6:2-5).
Earlier, John the Baptist had cried out to the crowds in the wilderness, “Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham” (Luke 3:8). Formerly possessing a stony, impenetrable heart, Zacchaeus is suddenly bearing fruit that proves his repentance, and his paternity. God has indeed raised him. And his life will never be the same.
Jesus, with his death and resurrection looming, has taken the time to notice and to reach into the little man’s heart. The divine appointment has yielded its intended fruit: repentance, generosity, and joy. Life. Another blind man sees; another lost one is found.
“Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham,” the Lord pronounces. “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Stan Guthrie is Minister of Communications for New Covenant Church in Naperville, Illinois.
Image courtesy of paintingvalley.com; Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International Public License.
BACK