So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. (Luke 19:6)

Luke 19 drops us right back into the city of Jericho, where Jesus is just passing through. Except Jesus doesn’t simply pass through; He shows up with purpose, and hearts get flipped like temple tables.

Enter Zacchaeus. You probably know him as the short tax guy from Sunday School, climbing a tree to catch a glimpse of Jesus. But Zacchaeus wasn’t just a curious little man–he held real power, and people knew it. He was the chief tax collector. That’s a big title, and consequently, he was pretty disliked. He made his wealth collecting taxes for the Romans, often at the expense of his people. He was seen as a traitor. A sellout. A sinner. And still...

Jesus sees him.

Not just sees him in the physical sense but knows him. Calls him by name. Invites Himself over (which is a bold move, let’s be honest) and says, “I must stay at your house today.” Must. Not “would like to,” not “if you’re free.” Must. Because this moment wasn’t random—it was purposefully orchestrated by the person who came to seek and save the lost.

And Zacchaeus? He climbs down the tree gladly. This moment moves fast–Jesus calls, and Zacchaeus wastes no time climbing down. There’s no hesitation, no “but what will people think?” Just joy.

This is what real transformation looks like. Not just emotion or a cool Jesus encounter, but a life that instantly begins to bear fruit. Zacchaeus doesn’t just say sorry. He commits. He pledges to give away half of his stuff to the poor and repay anyone he cheated four times over. That’s not just repentance, that’s restoration.

And naturally, there are grumblers in the background, just like always. “He’s gone to be the guest of a sinner,” they say. But here’s the truth: Jesus isn’t afraid of our mess. He walks right into it, sits down at the kitchen table, and starts changing things from the inside out.

So here’s the question I’m asking myself this week: Am I glad to welcome Jesus? Not just on the good days, not just when the dishes are done and my life feels in order—but in the middle of the chaos, the brokenness, the parts I’d rather hide? Because Jesus doesn’t just pass through Jericho. He doesn’t just pass by me. He must stay. He wants to. And that changes everything.

Let’s not be afraid to climb a little higher, seek a little deeper, and respond a little quicker when He calls. Because today salvation can come to our house, too.

Jesus, thank You that You don’t just pass by—You stop, You see, and You stay. Give me a heart that’s quick to respond with joy. Help me welcome You even in the messy places of my life, trusting that You’re here to redeem, restore, and make all things new. Amen.