Zacchaeus
The Pure and Innocent One: Discovering Your True Identity in Christ
There's a story tucked away in Luke 19 that many of us learned as children through a catchy song about a "wee little man." But beneath the surface of this familiar narrative lies a profound truth about identity that can transform how we see ourselves and how we understand God sees us.
When Status Defines Us
Jericho was thriving in Jesus' day—a city of palm trees, winter palaces, and Roman baths. It was a place where social hierarchies mattered, where your standing in the community determined your worth. And in this affluent city lived a man whose very existence was a contradiction.
His name was Zacchaeus, derived from a word meaning "pure and innocent one." Yet everything about his life screamed the opposite. He was a chief tax collector—not just any collaborator with the Roman occupiers, but a boss among traitors. He had used his position to accumulate wealth, exploiting his own people in the process. The name his parents gave him had become a cruel irony, a reminder of what he was supposed to be but clearly wasn't.
When Luke introduces him, it's almost as if he's highlighting this painful contrast: "Behold, there was the pure and innocent one who is an upper-level manager with the scuzzy traitors who work for our oppressive government, who used his power to get wealthy."
Sound familiar? How many of us carry names, labels, or identities that feel like they mock who we've actually become?
The Crowd That Keeps Us Out
The text tells us Zacchaeus couldn't see Jesus "because of the crowds" and "because he was little of stature." We've always assumed this was about his height. But stature in biblical terms often refers to more than physical dimensions—it speaks to social standing, to fitness for purpose, to worthiness.
Yes, Zacchaeus may have been short. But more significantly, he was a "little man" in the eyes of his countrymen. He was unsuitable, unfit, less than he should be. And the crowd—those respectable, religious people who had just witnessed Jesus heal a blind beggar and were praising God for His mercy—this same crowd would not let Zacchaeus through.
The message was clear: "We don't want you here, you little, unsuitable, unfit man."
How often do we experience this? The voices around us—sometimes external, often internal—that tell us we're not enough. Not good enough, not smart enough, not pure enough, not worthy enough to approach Jesus irectly. So we climb our own sycamore trees, hoping for just a glimpse, never daring to believe we could be seen.
When Jesus Looks Up
But here's where everything changes.
"When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and saw him."
The Greek word for "saw" here means to perceive, to understand, to know deeply. Jesus didn't just notice Zacchaeus—He perceived who he truly was. And what did Jesus call him?
Not "tax collector." Not "traitor." Not "sinner" or "rich exploiter."
He called him by his name: "Zacchaeus"—pure and innocent one.
This is the question we must wrestle with: How does Jesus see you?
Because the reality is, most of us are experts at knowing how the enemy would introduce us. We've spent years—sometimes decades—listening to accusations, reinforcing our insecurities, agreeing with the voices that tell us we're defined by our worst moments and our greatest failures.
But Jesus sees you as He created you to be. He knit you together in your mother's womb. He knows the number of hairs on your head. And when He looks at you—really sees you—He doesn't call you by the names the world uses or the labels you've accepted. He calls you by your true identity.
The Invitation to Abide
Jesus doesn't stop at recognition. He says something even more remarkable: "Make haste and come down, for today I must abide at your house."
Not "visit." Not "stop by." Abide—to remain, to dwell, to stay.
"I'm coming to live with you, pure and innocent one. I'm coming to abide with who you really are."
And Zacchaeus? He "made haste and came down and received him joyfully."
The crowd, of course, murmured. The same people who had just celebrated God's mercy toward the blind beggar now complained that Jesus would be a guest with "a man who is a sinner."
But Zacchaeus didn't care anymore. Because when you've looked into the eyes of your Creator and Redeemer, when you've heard Him call you by your true name, the opinions of the crowd lose their power.
When Identity Transforms Behavior
Here's what's beautiful: Jesus didn't demand that Zacchaeus change. He didn't give him a list of requirements or a program to follow. He simply revealed who Zacchaeus truly was.
And from that revelation, transformation flowed naturally.
Zacchaeus stood and declared, "Behold, Lord, half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold."
This wasn't religious duty. This was the real Zacchaeus—the pure and innocent one—finally able to step forward. Because when your true identity is revealed, your being informs your doing. Who you are shapes how you live.
The reality is that Zacchaeus was always a giver. He had just become a hoarder when he lost sight of his true identity. Because a hoarder is simply a giver who has forgotten who they are.
The Reversal of the Reversal
Sin is the reversal of our created identity. And redemption is the reversal of that reversal.
God doesn't see you through the lens of your worst moments. Through the prophet Micah, He promises to "cast all our sins into the depths of the sea." Isaiah declares He makes our scarlet sins "white as snow." The Psalmist proclaims, "As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us."
What gets removed isn't the memory that something happened—it's the guilt, condemnation, and shame.
Guilt says, "You're not forgiven." Condemnation says, "You're worthy to be judged." Shame says, "You're still what you're ashamed of—that's the real you."
All three are lies. All three are contrary to the finished work of Christ.
Your Invitation
Jesus came to seek and save that which is lost. Not just lost people, but lost identities—the true selves we were created to be before the world, the enemy, and our own choices convinced us we were something else.
Today, Jesus is looking up at wherever you're hiding, and He's calling you by your true name. Not the labels others have given you. Not the identity formed by your failures. Not the person you pretend to be or the person you fear you've become.
He's calling the real you—the one He created with purpose and destiny, the one He knit together with intention and love.
The question is: Will you come down? Will you receive Him joyfully? Will you let Him abide with your true identity?
Because when you do, everything changes. Not through striving or performing, but through finally being seen—and seeing yourself—as you truly are.
Pure and innocent one, come down. Today, salvation has come to your house.
To watch the full sermon "Zacchaeus" click here
When Status Defines Us
Jericho was thriving in Jesus' day—a city of palm trees, winter palaces, and Roman baths. It was a place where social hierarchies mattered, where your standing in the community determined your worth. And in this affluent city lived a man whose very existence was a contradiction.
His name was Zacchaeus, derived from a word meaning "pure and innocent one." Yet everything about his life screamed the opposite. He was a chief tax collector—not just any collaborator with the Roman occupiers, but a boss among traitors. He had used his position to accumulate wealth, exploiting his own people in the process. The name his parents gave him had become a cruel irony, a reminder of what he was supposed to be but clearly wasn't.
When Luke introduces him, it's almost as if he's highlighting this painful contrast: "Behold, there was the pure and innocent one who is an upper-level manager with the scuzzy traitors who work for our oppressive government, who used his power to get wealthy."
Sound familiar? How many of us carry names, labels, or identities that feel like they mock who we've actually become?
The Crowd That Keeps Us Out
The text tells us Zacchaeus couldn't see Jesus "because of the crowds" and "because he was little of stature." We've always assumed this was about his height. But stature in biblical terms often refers to more than physical dimensions—it speaks to social standing, to fitness for purpose, to worthiness.
Yes, Zacchaeus may have been short. But more significantly, he was a "little man" in the eyes of his countrymen. He was unsuitable, unfit, less than he should be. And the crowd—those respectable, religious people who had just witnessed Jesus heal a blind beggar and were praising God for His mercy—this same crowd would not let Zacchaeus through.
The message was clear: "We don't want you here, you little, unsuitable, unfit man."
How often do we experience this? The voices around us—sometimes external, often internal—that tell us we're not enough. Not good enough, not smart enough, not pure enough, not worthy enough to approach Jesus irectly. So we climb our own sycamore trees, hoping for just a glimpse, never daring to believe we could be seen.
When Jesus Looks Up
But here's where everything changes.
"When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and saw him."
The Greek word for "saw" here means to perceive, to understand, to know deeply. Jesus didn't just notice Zacchaeus—He perceived who he truly was. And what did Jesus call him?
Not "tax collector." Not "traitor." Not "sinner" or "rich exploiter."
He called him by his name: "Zacchaeus"—pure and innocent one.
This is the question we must wrestle with: How does Jesus see you?
Because the reality is, most of us are experts at knowing how the enemy would introduce us. We've spent years—sometimes decades—listening to accusations, reinforcing our insecurities, agreeing with the voices that tell us we're defined by our worst moments and our greatest failures.
But Jesus sees you as He created you to be. He knit you together in your mother's womb. He knows the number of hairs on your head. And when He looks at you—really sees you—He doesn't call you by the names the world uses or the labels you've accepted. He calls you by your true identity.
The Invitation to Abide
Jesus doesn't stop at recognition. He says something even more remarkable: "Make haste and come down, for today I must abide at your house."
Not "visit." Not "stop by." Abide—to remain, to dwell, to stay.
"I'm coming to live with you, pure and innocent one. I'm coming to abide with who you really are."
And Zacchaeus? He "made haste and came down and received him joyfully."
The crowd, of course, murmured. The same people who had just celebrated God's mercy toward the blind beggar now complained that Jesus would be a guest with "a man who is a sinner."
But Zacchaeus didn't care anymore. Because when you've looked into the eyes of your Creator and Redeemer, when you've heard Him call you by your true name, the opinions of the crowd lose their power.
When Identity Transforms Behavior
Here's what's beautiful: Jesus didn't demand that Zacchaeus change. He didn't give him a list of requirements or a program to follow. He simply revealed who Zacchaeus truly was.
And from that revelation, transformation flowed naturally.
Zacchaeus stood and declared, "Behold, Lord, half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold."
This wasn't religious duty. This was the real Zacchaeus—the pure and innocent one—finally able to step forward. Because when your true identity is revealed, your being informs your doing. Who you are shapes how you live.
The reality is that Zacchaeus was always a giver. He had just become a hoarder when he lost sight of his true identity. Because a hoarder is simply a giver who has forgotten who they are.
The Reversal of the Reversal
Sin is the reversal of our created identity. And redemption is the reversal of that reversal.
God doesn't see you through the lens of your worst moments. Through the prophet Micah, He promises to "cast all our sins into the depths of the sea." Isaiah declares He makes our scarlet sins "white as snow." The Psalmist proclaims, "As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us."
What gets removed isn't the memory that something happened—it's the guilt, condemnation, and shame.
Guilt says, "You're not forgiven." Condemnation says, "You're worthy to be judged." Shame says, "You're still what you're ashamed of—that's the real you."
All three are lies. All three are contrary to the finished work of Christ.
Your Invitation
Jesus came to seek and save that which is lost. Not just lost people, but lost identities—the true selves we were created to be before the world, the enemy, and our own choices convinced us we were something else.
Today, Jesus is looking up at wherever you're hiding, and He's calling you by your true name. Not the labels others have given you. Not the identity formed by your failures. Not the person you pretend to be or the person you fear you've become.
He's calling the real you—the one He created with purpose and destiny, the one He knit together with intention and love.
The question is: Will you come down? Will you receive Him joyfully? Will you let Him abide with your true identity?
Because when you do, everything changes. Not through striving or performing, but through finally being seen—and seeing yourself—as you truly are.
Pure and innocent one, come down. Today, salvation has come to your house.
To watch the full sermon "Zacchaeus" click here
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