Introduction

Some of us walked in today wearing an invisible name tag. It doesn’t say “Hello, my name is…” as much as it says “Hello, my past is…” or “Hello, my reputation is….” Labels linger. Nicknames stick. Stories spread. And sometimes we start to believe them more than we believe the voice of God. We wonder, Does Jesus know me, really know me? Does He see beyond what people whisper? Would He ever come close to my house, sit at my table, call me friend?

Jericho had its own whisper list, and on it was a man with a short frame and a long shadow. Zacchaeus. Folks in town could point to his office, they could tally his profits, but they couldn’t imagine him as the object of mercy. He was the kind of man you cross the street to avoid. He was the kind of story you share with a raised eyebrow. He was the kind of soul who climbs trees when crowds close ranks.

And then Jesus came to town. Don’t you love that line? Jesus came to town. Sandals on cobblestones. Mercy on the move. Eyes that don’t miss a thing and a heart that doesn’t miss a person. He stops beneath a branch, looks up, and says a name the way only the Savior can say it—without scorn, without stigma, without suspicion. Zacchaeus. A name spoken like a hand extended, like a doorbell rung, like grace at your front gate.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God.” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer) Zacchaeus thought he was looking for a glimpse. What he received was a holy interruption—heaven pausing at his tree, stepping across his threshold, and setting a new course for his life.

Friend, could it be that Jesus is standing under your branch today? Could it be that He is calling you by name, seeing past the headlines and the hang-ups, and saying, “I must stay at your house”? What happens when He does? This is where we’re headed today: Jesus knows and names us. Jesus sees beyond our reputation. Salvation comes home and reshapes our lives. That’s not a tale for long ago. That’s hope with your address on it.

Let’s hear the story straight from Scripture.

Luke 19:1-10 (KJV) 1 And Jesus entered and passed through Jericho. 2 And, behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus, which was the chief among the publicans, and he was rich. 3 And he sought to see Jesus who he was; and could not for the press, because he was little of stature. 4 And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way. 5 And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zacchaeus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house. 6 And he made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully. 7 And when they saw it, they all murmured, saying, That he was gone to be guest with a man that is a sinner. 8 And Zacchaeus stood, and said unto the Lord; Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold. 9 And Jesus said unto him, This day is salvation come to this house, forsomuch as he also is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.

Opening Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for walking into our town and into our lives. Thank You for seeing us in the branches and in the crowd. Call us by name today. Quiet the noise around us and within us. Step across the threshold of our hearts and make Yourself at home. Let Your salvation come to our house—lifting shame, healing wounds, and shaping new desires. Give us ears to hear, feet to respond, and hands eager to make wrongs right. Bless the reading of Your Word and the preaching that follows. Meet us with mercy, fill us with joy, and lead us in obedience. In Your strong and gentle name we pray, Amen.

Jesus knows and names us. Jesus sees beyond our reputation. Salvation comes home and reshapes our lives. That’s not a tale for long ago. That’s hope with your address on it.

Jesus knows and names us

Names matter. We lean in when someone says ours. It catches the heart. It reaches places a title or label never can. Scripture shows that again and again. God speaks to people by name, and something happens. Fear eases. Shame loosens. Steps change. That is what we see on the road in Jericho.

Verse 5 says Jesus looked up, saw a man, and called him by his name. No one whispered it in His ear. No scroll was checked. The Lord knew. He knew the face in the leaves. He knew the story in the man. He knew the address, the patterns, the secrets, and the ache. And He still spoke the name like it belonged in His mouth. There is a care in that. There is a weight in that. There is a promise in that.

When Jesus speaks a name, it is never thin. It carries welcome. It carries purpose. He speaks, and a person steps out of the blur. He speaks, and a door opens that felt locked for years. That is why this moment matters so much. The crowd murmurs plenty of words later in the scene, but only the Lord uses a name with life on it.

He sees before He speaks. He speaks before He stays. The order is simple and strong. He looks up. He calls. He comes near. You can feel the rhythm of grace right there in the street. You do not have to shout for Him to notice you. His eyes are already on you. His voice is already aimed at you. His feet are already moving your way.

In verse 5 Jesus uses a clear word. “I must stay at your house.” That word must shows holy intent. This is not a passing nod. He plans to come close. He plans to sit at a table. He plans to bring heaven’s welcome to a real room with walls and windows. He brings God’s care to a place with dishes and dust and neighbors who peek through curtains.

Scripture gives other moments that help us grasp this. The Lord says in Isaiah 43: “I have called you by name; you are mine.” Nathanael sits under a fig tree, and Jesus tells him He saw him there before Philip called him. Mary stands outside an empty tomb, and she does not recognize the risen Lord until He says, “Mary.” The pattern shines. He knows. He names. Hearts wake up.

In Jericho, that naming is personal and precise. This man held a certain job and had a certain past, but Jesus does not start with those details. He starts with a name. He starts with a voice that carries care. He starts with a summons that pulls a man out of the branches and onto the path of new life.

Look at how Jesus uses the name. He gives a clear call with it. “Make haste, and come down.” The call is urgent and kind at the same time. It leaves no room for delay, yet it does not crush. It sounds like a hand held out. It sounds like a door opened from the inside. He does not set a long list of tasks. He sets a simple next step. Come down. Come now. I am coming to your place today.

The word today matters too. The Lord anchors grace in real time. He does not keep it far off. He brings it to the calendar you hold. He brings it to the block where you live. He aims for presence. Presence at a table. Presence in a room where you keep your coat. Presence in the part of life where you make choices that shape tomorrow.

Notice the effect. Verse 6 says the man hurried down and received Him with joy. The voice of Jesus creates movement. It puts speed in the feet. It puts warmth in the chest. This is how the Shepherd works. As He says in John 10, He calls His own sheep by name and leads them out. He knows the sound each heart makes. He knows the path that will guide it home. His call does not push from behind. It leads from in front.

There is also power in the meaning of this name. Zacchaeus means pure or clean. That is a striking thing to say to a man with a messy story. Jesus does not play with words. He sees what God can do in a person. He speaks a name that carries promise, and the promise starts to bloom. The name that parents gave long ago becomes a word of grace on the lips of the Lord. The old meaning rises like a dawn over a worn life.

Think of other moments where God works with names. Abram becomes Abraham, a father of many. Jacob becomes Israel, a prince with God. Simon becomes Peter, a rock. With Zacchaeus there is no new name. The Lord takes the one he already has and fills it with fresh life. He tells the truth about what heaven can make of him. He treats him as a man who belongs to mercy. That is why the house opens. That is why the purse opens. That is why the future opens.

The crowd has its own words. Verse 7 says they murmur. They do not see what the Lord sees. They talk to each other. Jesus talks to the man. He keeps a person in focus while others keep the scandal in focus. The voice of Jesus steadies a soul when the buzz around him gets loud. A single name in the mouth of the Savior can hold a person steady in the middle of a thousand side comments.

The way Jesus frames the call also teaches us how to pray. You can sit with this passage and lay your name before Him. You can read verse 5 and hear Him say your name in that sentence. Let it be simple. Say, “Speak, Lord.” Wait. Let the Spirit bring His tender, firm voice to mind. Bring the room you live in to Him. Bring the table where you eat. Say, “Lord, this house too.” He loves to bring grace to actual rooms.

This moment shows that Jesus meets people in public places and cares for private spaces. He is the Lord of crowds and the Lord of kitchens. He is not far away from the small rooms in your life. He fills them with Himself. When He says your name, He is saying He intends to be near you. He intends to be with you in the ordinary and the long hours.

The call also carries authority. “I must stay.” This is more than a polite request. It is a king’s claim spoken with a friend’s tone. He claims time. He claims address. He claims schedule. When He names you, He has a right to your calendar. He is kind, and He is in charge. The best thing you can do with a word like that is the same thing the man did. Make haste. Come down. Receive Him with joy.

This is where trust grows. You hear Him call you. You move. You make room. You watch what He does in the house. That is how a new way is born. One word leads to a step. One step opens a door. One door brings the Presence into the middle of life. Then the heart begins to want what He wants. The hands begin to do what He loves. The mouth begins to speak words that heal rather than harm.

There is comfort here for those who feel unseen. The Lord did not miss a man tucked away in leaves. He will not miss you. He knows where you are perched. He knows why you chose that spot. He knows what you hope to see and what you fear will happen. He knows your true name, the one He speaks in love, the one that says you are made for Him.

There is also help here for those who are tired of labels. Jesus is precise with names. He will not mix you up with the crowd. He will not treat you as a case. He speaks to you as a person. He says your name because He wants you, not a version of you cleaned up by your own power. His word carries the power you lack. His presence carries the help you need.

If you wonder how to start, use the same simple steps we see in the text. Listen for His voice in Scripture. When a word lands on you, answer quickly. Say yes in small ways. Open your house to Him in prayer. Open your table with Him in mind. Speak your name to Him and ask Him to speak it back with hope. This is not a trick. This is the plain life of faith.

And when His word comes, expect joy. Verse 6 names it. Joy rises when the Lord is near. It does not wait for every problem to fall away. It springs up because the Name above every name has spoken yours. That is enough to set your feet moving and your heart singing as you make room for Him today.

Jesus sees beyond our reputation

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