Introduction

Some of us walked in today feeling unseen, unheard, and maybe even unwanted. We’ve smiled for others, but inside there’s a quiet ache that keeps asking, “Does God notice me?” Picture dusty Jericho streets and a short man with a tall stack of regrets. A tree-climbing tax collector—pockets full, heart hungry. He’s curious, cautious, craning his neck for a glimpse of hope. He worries he’s too small, too stained, too stuck. Then Jesus stops, looks up, and calls him by name.

That’s the heartbeat of our passage today: Jesus seeks the overlooked and speaks personally. He doesn’t scan the crowd; He searches the heart. Where others saw a label, Jesus saw a person. Where others had opinions, Jesus had an appointment. And when grace shows up, it doesn’t just whisper comfort; it works change. Zacchaeus doesn’t negotiate; he stands and surrenders—opening his hands to the poor and making costly wrongs right. This is the fruit of faith: not a performance to earn love, but a response to a love that found us first. And then comes the line that rings like freedom: “Today salvation has come to this house.” Not someday. Not after a thousand steps. Today. Jesus gives a new family name, a new story, a new standing before God.

Tim Keller put it like this: “The gospel is this: We are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, yet at the very same time, we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope.” (Tim Keller)

If you’ve ever wondered, “Could He call me by name? Could He change me this deeply? Could He bring salvation to my home?”—this passage says yes. Yes, He sees you. Yes, He can reorder your loves, your ledger, your life. Yes, He delights to say, “Today.”

Let’s read the story as it happened:

Luke 19:1-10 1 He 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."

Opening Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You that You still stop beneath our branches and call us by name. Thank You for seeing past our masks and meeting us with mercy. Speak to our hearts with clarity and kindness. Lift our eyes to Your grace, and let Your word land with power and peace.

Holy Spirit, soften what is stubborn, steady what is shaky, and stir us to sincere repentance. Shape our desires, guide our decisions, and gladden our hearts in Your presence. Where we have harmed others, give us courage to make things right. Where we have hoarded, teach us generous hands.

Father, bring salvation to our homes today—healing wounds, restoring relationships, and reorienting our identity under Your care. We welcome Your nearness. We trust Your goodness. We respond to Your call. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Jesus seeks the overlooked and calls them by name

In Jericho, the streets were full and fast. People pushed and talked. News spread that Jesus was passing through. It felt like any busy day.

Then everything slowed for one person.

Jesus stopped at a single spot. He looked up. He said a name out loud. The crowd may have seen a face in a sea of faces. Jesus saw a story. He called that story forward with a word. A name.

That is how the scene opens for us. A holy pause. A personal call. A person who did not expect a visit is now standing in the center of God’s attention. This is how grace acts in real time. It seeks. It speaks. It steps in.

The text says Jesus invited Himself to the man’s home. That is close contact. That is presence. That is life on life. He does not keep distance. He steps over it. He chooses to be near. He makes room for a meal, for talk, for change.

This matters for us. Many of us carry a sense that we blend in. Many of us assume our name is just a name in a long list. Here Jesus shows another way. He is not collecting numbers. He is calling people. He is not moved by status. He is moved by love.

The scene fits the larger story of Scripture. God walks in gardens and calls people by name. God speaks in the night to a child and says, “Samuel.” Jesus says, “Mary,” outside an empty tomb and tears turn to peace. In Jericho, the same voice sounds. A real name. A real person. A real home.

The word “must” in the line “I must stay at your house” carries weight. In Greek, it is dei. It is the language of purpose. It shows up when Jesus talks about His cross, His mission, and the plans of the Father. This visit sits inside that same purpose. It is not a side note. It is part of why He came.

Think about that. A crowded road. Many needs. Many good options. Yet He speaks with urgency about one household. That is how the heart of God works. He does not lose the one in the many. He moves with care. He moves with intent. He goes where grace will do its work.

This also shows the pace of Jesus. He is on the move, yet He is never rushed past a person. He notices ache. He hears quiet questions. He pauses for a name. He brings the kingdom to a doorway and then walks in.

Names matter here. People in town knew the man’s job. They knew numbers. They knew his public record. They could list reasons to keep him at arm’s length. It is easy to attach a role to a person and stop there. It is easy to reduce someone to a headline in our minds.

Jesus does not use a role. He uses a name. A name cuts through our categories. A name calls forth a person. When your own name is spoken with care, your shoulders lift. Your heart opens. You feel seen. You feel summoned. That is what happens in the text. It is the kind of call that turns a face toward God.

There is another layer here. The name “Zacchaeus” means “pure” or “innocent.” The town would not use that word for him. His ledger did not look pure to them. Yet Jesus says the name as it is. He speaks the given name. He speaks a word that hints at what grace can make true. He calls out a future in a single syllable.

This is what God does throughout Scripture. He calls Abram “father of many” before the nursery is filled. He names Simon “rock” while he is still shaky. In Jericho, He calls “Zacchaeus” and begins to restore what the name declares. The voice of Jesus does not flatter. It creates. It builds a new self that fits God’s promise.

Pay attention to the house. Jesus does not keep the call in the street. He asks to come in. He brings the good news to the table, the doorway, the living room. In that world, sharing a meal meant deep welcome. It meant honor. It meant real ties. So the crowd protests. They grumble that Jesus has entered a place they would avoid.

That protest shows the cost of mercy. Presence is costly. Sitting at a table says, “I am with you.” It risks your name with other people. It tests your values. Jesus is willing to bear that weight. He is not a spectator on the curb. He steps through the threshold and shows us the shape of mercy in a home.

Think of what that means for our homes. It means Jesus cares about our addresses. He cares about weekday rooms. He cares about what happens behind our walls. He is not only interested in crowds and stages. He meets people where they live. He brings peace to that space. He brings truth to that space. He brings change to that space.

The crowd’s reaction also helps us read our hearts. We are quick to sort people. We are quick to decide who deserves a visit. We make lists in our minds. We draw lines. This scene invites us to put the pen down. It calls us to trust the wisdom of Jesus about where He sits and whom He welcomes.

Identity takes center stage when Jesus speaks about “a son of Abraham.” That phrase is covenant language. It reaches back to promises given to Abraham. Land, blessing, and a people for God’s own possession. To be counted in that family is to be brought into God’s pledge of mercy.

That means more than heritage. It means belonging. It means place. It means a story in which God’s faithfulness holds. In Jericho, this man is placed inside that story again. He is not on the outside. He stands inside the circle of grace. He bears the mark of God’s promise family.

This moves us past shame. Shame says, “You are what you did.” The word of Jesus says, “You belong in God’s promise.” It gives a new frame for life. It gives courage to act in new ways. It opens the door for repair, because the person who belongs can face the past without fear of being cast out.

Now look at the response. The man stands up and speaks with clarity. He decides to give large gifts to the poor. He promises strong payback to anyone he has harmed. These are not vague lines. They are concrete. They name real action. They move money. They touch real lives.

There is biblical shape to these promises. The law speaks of restoring what was taken and adding more on top. In some cases, four times the amount. The man reaches for the highest form of repair. He does not wait for a full audit. He takes the first step. He sets a pattern that others can test and see.

Notice the order. Joy comes. Then action comes. The welcome opens the heart. The heart opens the hand. The math of mercy begins to run. This is how grace moves. It finds us. It calls our name. It comes home with us. It changes what we do with our time, our wealth, and our ties.

This response is not a bid for status. It is a sign of life. It is fruit. It is what happens when the Savior speaks your name and sits at your table. The house becomes a workshop for repair. Neighbors begin to feel the difference. Old wounds start to heal. The street hears new news. A home that once took becomes a place that gives.

Repentance shows itself in costly restitution and care for the poor

Here the text brings money and math into the room ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO