by Lauren Martin
We heard stories about him:
this Jesus claiming to be God and man.
The Messiah,
the one we were waiting for.
Many called him a blasphemer.
Liar.
Deceitful.
He walked through our streets, passing through Jericho,
where the walls crashed down before God and his people so many years ago.
Could this be God in the flesh?
Walking amid us,
declaring His power and glory and godliness,
yet also a man?
Would God really humble Himself like this? For me?
A tax collector,
rich off money taken from others.
Unjust.
Unloving.
Liar.
Deceitful.
Sinner against the holy God.
My hands tore against the bark of that sycamore tree.
When I reached a height where I could see my breath was barely in me.
But He was passing that way.
I couldn’t miss Him, His presence, His life.
He looked at me,
and He saw me.
“Come down, hurry.
We’re going to your house.”
Everyone grumbled.
I would have too.
Yet I could not hold back my joy.
King, Lord, Christ, Messiah.
He saw me.
The chief tax collector,
overtaken by wealth and greed,
a sinner against Him.
Who else would seek such a man but the God who delivered Israel?
Who made a covenant with Abraham,
who spoke by the prophets,
who looked up at me and knew me and sought me.
Oh, this is the Son of Man.
He has come to seek and save the lost.
Salvation has come today.