Jesus healed social divisions in Israelite society

My son goes to the University of Arkansas. Woo Pig Sooie! He is 6’ 6” tall. (Yes, his dad is tall. No, I’m of average height.) When he hugs me I have to stand on my tip toes get my arms around his neck. I always feel safe when I’m with him, even walking downtown in an unfamiliar town after dark. No one is going to mess with him, even though he’s incredibly gentle and kind.

Jackson constantly looks down on people. Not in an arrogant way, but in a “having to bend his neck to look in someone’s eyes” kind of way. He’s not as high above the crowd as Zacchaeus, but with a few more inches, he might be close. Given what little we know about Zacchaeus, he probably did look down on people from a heart filled with arrogance. He might not have looked people directly in the eye, filled with the shame and guilt that comes with cheating people out of their hard-earned wages.

I imagine Jesus in a crowd of people, instinctively knowing Zacchaeus was in the tree. Jesus makes eye contact with him, sinner that he is. Jesus issues an invitation to a shared meal, an act of communion and intimacy. Jesus picks the most lost, the most broken, the most shame-filled and says, “Come…let’s spend some time together.”

Brene Brown is one of my favorite authors. She has made research on shame, vulnerability, and empathy her life’s work. (If you haven’t watched her two TED talks, find them on YouTube. You’ll be glad you did.) She writes, “Shame is that warm feeling that washes over us, making us feel small, flawed, and never good enough.” “Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.” Is this how Zacchaeus felt when Jesus called his name?

Shame is one of my uninvited life companions. I don’t want to feel shame. I ask God to heal the broken places in me that lead to this useless emotion. Yet there is a voice that whispers, “You’re not good enough. Of course, you messed this up. Why can’t you get it right?” And then, in my sacred imagination, I hear it…a still small voice calling my name. “Angie…Angie. Climb down from that place of shame. I want to be with you. I want to spend time with you. You are good enough for me. You are loved. You are mine.” I’m not going to lie. That doesn’t make it all better in an instant. However, it does change my gaze from a place of shame toward the eyes of Jesus. In Jesus, I find a welcome embrace, filled with grace that is sufficient to take the first step toward a renewed life in Him.

Jesus calls your name. I hope you hear Him. I hope you choose to take a step toward Him.