Notwithstanding his bad reputation, there were some streaks of good about Zacchæus--as there are about almost every man. Gold is found in quartz, and sometimes in a very small percentage.
Jesus was coming to town. The people all turned out to see Him. Here He comes--the Lord of Glory--on foot, dust-covered and road-weary, limping along the way, carrying the griefs and woes of the world. Christ looks to be sixty years of age, when He is only about thirty.
Zacchæus was a short man, and could not see over the people’s heads while standing on the ground; so he got up into a sycamore tree that swung its arm clear over the road.
Jesus advanced amid the wild excitement of the surging crowd. The most honorable and popular men of the city are looking on, and are trying to gain His attention. But Jesus, instead of regarding them, looks up at the little man in the tree, and says:
“Zacchæus, come down. I am going home with you.”
All regretted to see such choice of company.
Zacchæus had mounted the sycamore tree out of mere curiosity. He wanted to see how this stranger looked--the color of his eyes, the length of his hair, the contour of his features, the height of his stature.
I see Christ entering the front door of the house of Zacchæus. The King of Heaven and Earth sits down; and as He looks around on the place and the family, He pronounces the benediction: “This day is salvation come to this house.”
Nearer, my God, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee! E’en though a cross it be That raiseth me, Still all my song shall be: Nearer, my God, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!
Though, like a wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone, Yet in my dreams I’d be Nearer, my God, to Thee Nearer to Thee!
There let the way appear Steps unto Heaven; All that Thou sendest me In mercy given! Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!
Then, with my waking thoughts Bright with Thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I’ll raise; So, by my woes, to be Nearer, my God, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!
Or if, on joyful wing Cleaving the sky-- Sun, Moon and stars forgot-- Upward I fly, Still all my song shall be: Nearer, my God, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!
DISCUSSED AND ANALYZED BY THE SCHOLARLY DIVINE, JOSEPH PARKER, D. D.