When he reached the place, Jesus looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” And he came down quickly and received him with joy.
My Jesus, all I want is to dwell in your house, and yet you come to stay in mine. You give so much more than we know how to ask.
There are sycamore trees behind our building, but they have tall, peeling trunks, and the branches that grow near the bottom are spindly twigs. I couldn’t imagine anyone climbing them. I checked some photographs of those that grow in Jerusalem, and they are short and sturdy, as I imagine Zacchaeus was. He wanted to see you, not as Herod did, as a diversion, but because you moved him. You knew his heart, and when you beckoned him, he jumped down eagerly.
We don’t need to climb a tree or a mountain to see you. We just have to be ready for you to find us. In just a couple days, you will come to me in the Eucharist. You will “enter into my house.” Please help me to repent and to withhold nothing from you. Zacchaeus promised half his possessions. Am I that brave?
If I am not using something now, I still hang on to it, thinking I might need it later. Only you know what I need. Today, I found out I will not get something I had expected. I had been so sure of it, I didn’t even think to pray about it. When the news came, I felt deflated, but then I realized that there are other solutions, probably much wiser ones.
As my loving Father, you prevent me from grabbing what is harmful. I trust you; I know you promise whatever I need, but not everything I want. Why, then, is it so difficult for me to give generously? I do want to let go, Lord. I want to make room for you. Teach me to share.