|
As I looked around, some memories drifted in. I remember my paternal grandmother taking me to the Welsh Baptist Church in Pittston, PA. There I had attended Sunday School. I had been on the cradle roll. My other grandmother had also taken me to the Methodist Church near her home. Between the prayers of the two, I guess I hadn’t a chance except to be in church again. We all sat in that church quietly that morning. I looked at the picture of Jesus centered on the wall above the altar. It showed our Lord lifting a man out of some pretty rough water. It struck me as odd, for the man was really big and Jesus seemed.., well, he seemed that he was a tad smaller. How in the world did he get that big guy back into the boat? Church folks believe Jesus is God. I had been taught that too. So I thought it was probably easy for him to lift the big guy. He just reached out and grabbed him up in spite of the weight. Maybe the real heavy junk that causes us to toss and turn about is just some light stuff for him. After the worship service started, I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out what was happening. I tried to sing the hymns along with everyone else. Matthew’s missus had a beautiful voice, so I just quit and listened. Afterward, the pastor, who was a middle-aged man with a crew cut… started us off with some prayer. Next there were readings from the Bible. The Old Testament and Epistle lessons were read by a tall, blonde woman wearing thick glasses. I think that she was the pastor’s wife. The pastor then read from his Bible, a big one that laid upon his pulpit. After reading, he looked out over the congregation and started his sermon. It was like he knew I was there, |
|
because it seemed that he looked straight through me. He first said, “I come to you in the name of Jesus Christ, our Crucified and Risen Lord… and I bring you his love.” Looking over his glasses, the pastor then started talking about a little guy named Zaccheus… who had climbed a tree to see Jesus parade through town. As the minister talked, I could picture that little Zaccheus guy sitting up a tree on a branch, thinking he had the whole thing figured out. Like me, he didn’t want to get involved. He was just up there. He was out of it… watching it all. Zaccheus could watch out from his high, tree-top seat, and get to see Jesus. He saw the Lord that day, and he waved at that man who he’d heard about. Suddenly, Jesus stopped right beneath him. He looked at that little guy sitting high up in his perch. He just said, “Zacchaeus, make haste and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” I liked that. It was simple and straight away. Jesus went to Zaccheus’ home with him. It seemed that he somehow wanted to get the man and his whole house involved in everything that was going on. |
|
Doin Sunday...? |
|
I don’t really remember the rest of the sermon much, or much about the service afterward really. That morning I just kept picturing Zaccheus sitting in that tree and the decision he was asked to make. It was simple, the Bible message that the pastor gave. Jesus, who is the Son of God, spoke to Zaccheus. The words he spoke seemed to come across time and space. They hit me on that morning in church as well, “… for I must stay at your house today.” What struck me as odd was that Zaccheus was not a real nice guy. You see, Zaccheus was not a real popular man around that town. Yet Jesus went to his home to have dinner with him. I went back home that afternoon and picked up the Bible that I’d previously used to start reading Luke’s gospel. I dug through the New Testament and read the story of Zaccheus again. I thought about the fact that he wasn’t |
