You know what it feels like to be caught in the middle. Perhaps you’ve felt the tension when bombs drop, though you disagree, when your government spends money on things that contradict your values, or when capitalism demands compromises that exploit others. You might even notice how society’s expectations around gender, race, or sexuality pull you away from your authentic self.
Like Zacchaeus, the tax collector trapped between Roman imperial power and his own community, you navigate life stuck between the things you hold true and the world’s demands for your allegiance and compliance.
Zacchaeus had grown wealthy under a brutal system that collected taxes for Rome, squeezing his neighbors and lining his pockets with excess revenue. Yet when Jesus came to town, Zacchaeus climbed a tree just to hear this itinerant preacher speak.
The words of repentance and restitution were already on his tongue, revealing someone who had decided they were uncomfortable in that middle place, someone already ready to change. You might recognize yourself in that moment—looking around at the world and deciding you need to be part of something different, searching for a way to belong more faithfully.
“Salvation is to be found when we live our lives in full alignment with our values,” Jesus declared. “Zacchaeus too is a son of Abraham—Zacchaeus belongs here with us.”
Jesus announced to everyone that Zacchaeus had embraced a new kind of belonging. This is what the church offers you: not perfection, but a place where you can gather with others who share your vision of the world and work together to live out those values.
Whether you care about immigrant rights, creation care, gun violence prevention, racial equity, or beloved community, you can find what the wider world doesn’t always provide here, where you can turn away from serving power and toward the work of setting the world right again.
What a moment this is to climb down from your sycamore tree, find each other, and hear God calling you into this different way of belonging together.
