There’s something about me that you need to know. I can’t keep it a secret any longer. I guess it’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. You see – I’m short. That’s right, I’m short. Or to be politically correct, I’m vertically challenged. I’ve been that way since the day I was born, and I don’t imagine it’s going to change at this point in my life.
It isn’t easy being vertically challenged, let me tell you. At times, I’ve felt like Edith Ann in a Laugh-In world. I’ve hardly ever bought a pair of pants that fit without being hemmed. My feet swing when I sit in 87.5% of the world’s chairs. Being short has really cramped my style at times. For example, I wanted to play basketball when I was in high school. It worked out fine when I played in a church league. I was a pretty good point guard, and scored a lot of points, and played excellent defense. But when I went out for the high school team, it was obvious that even if I made the team, I would spend most of my time sitting on the bench. I just wasn’t tall enough to make the cut.
And then there is the teasing that comes to those of us who are vertically challenged. You know, people can be so mean. The nicknames, like Shorty or Shrimp. And the jokes. “Stand up and say hello – oh, you are standing up!” Or “You’re so short, you could play handball with the curb.” Or “How’s the weather down there?”
And then, there was The Song. That was the worst thing of all. It was written by a malicious man named Randy Newman. If there’s any justice in this world, he will pay for that song one day. I can still hear that song, seemingly blaring from every radio in town. My brother and some of my friends used to sing it to me until I was sick of it. Maybe you remember it:
Short people got no reason, short people go no reason,
Short people got no reason to live.
They got little hands, little eyes, they walk around telling great big lies.
They got little noses and tiny little teeth.
They wear platform shoes on their nasty little feet.
Well, I don’t want no short people, don’t want no short people,
Don’t want no short people ‘round here.
Short people got nobody, short people got nobody,
Short people got nobody to love.
They got little baby faces. They stand so low
You got to pick ‘em up just to say hello.
They got little cars that go beep, beep, beep,
They got little voices goin’ peep, peep, peep.
They got grubby little fingers and dirty little minds.
They’re gonna get you every time.
Well, I don’t want no short people, don’t want no short people,
Don’t want no short people ‘round here.
That’s okay, though. I’m over it. I am. Really. You see, I found out something a few years ago that has changed my life. I found out that Jesus loves short people the best. It’s true! Some of his last words were spoken about short people; sort of a short-people’s blessing. Jesus said, “Lo, I will be with you always.” It’s made all the difference!
Needless to say, one of my favorite characters in the Bible has always been Zaccheus. You know, the “wee little man.” I know for sure that we both have one thing in common. We’re both short. But that didn’t keep Zaccheus from having a remarkable encounter with Jesus that led him to repent of his shortcomings, so to speak, and begin a new life with Christ.
Zaccheus was a short man in a tall world, and he had grown up, like me, the brunt of people’s jokes. He had been pushed around and taunted and bullied and learned to compensate by laughing at the jokes or fighting back. All he could think was, “Someday I’ll show them. Someday they’ll all look up to me.”
And Zaccheus did make something of himself. He climbed the professional ladder and made it to the top, until he was king of the hill. Zaccheus was the chief tax collector for his district, a man of great wealth and power. No one may have liked him, no one may have wanted to be his friend, but everyone had to respect his authority.
Tax collectors were the most hated of all people in Palestine at that time. They were ranked right up there with robbers and murderers; they were even banned from entering synagogues. The tax collectors were Jews who were willing to work with the Roman occupiers; they were collaborators. They were seen as traitors. And they got rich at the expense of their own people. You see, taxes were not assessed on individuals, but on districts. As long as the tax collector gave the Romans the amount of money they requested, they could collect as much over and above that amount as they wanted. Since no one knew how much they actually owed, the tax collectors were able to collect a lot of extra money to keep for themselves.
One day, Zaccheus heard that Jesus was coming to town. Zaccheus must have heard something about Jesus and wanted to see the man for himself. He decided to go and check it out. Why was he interested in Jesus? Why would he go to the trouble of going to see Jesus for himself? Perhaps it was no longer enough for Zaccheus to be king of the hill. Maybe he was tired of being the most hated man in town. Perhaps he was tired of being lonely and isolated, an outcast among his own people. Or maybe his conscience was bothering him because of the way he had cheated people in order to become rich. And maybe Zaccheus had heard that Jesus welcomed tax collectors, and had heard of the man named Matthew, a tax collector who had been called by Jesus to become one of his disciples. Whatever it was that attracted Zaccheus, he went out to see Jesus that day, and it changed his life.
For Zaccheus to enter the crowd would have been dangerous. After all, no one would have missed the opportunity to nudge or push or elbow this man who had cheated them on a regular basis. Maybe even throw a punch, discreetly. Zaccheus must have been black and blue with bruises before it was all over with. But as hard as he tried to make his way through the crowd to get a look at Jesus, he just couldn’t get past all those people. Finally, he got tired of looking at the backs and bottoms of tunics, and set aside his pride, and climbed a sycamore tree where he could get a better view.
Imagine his surprise – imagine the surprise of the crowd – when Jesus walked right up to that very tree, called Zaccheus by name, and told him to come down, because he had to stay at his house that day. I can just hear those good church folks grumbling and muttering under their breath because Jesus had decided to stay with such a sinner instead of going home with one of them! It seems that Jesus was always welcoming the “wrong” people and confounding the righteous people.
Well, Zaccheus came down out of the tree and it was obvious that he was a changed man because of his encounter with Jesus. He promised to give half of his wealth to the poor and to make restitution to those whom he had cheated. In fact, he went far beyond what was necessary and required by law. He would pay the people back four times what he owed to them! Zaccheus went out to see Jesus as a man who was lost, cut off from God and from his people. But he went home as a man who had been found, who had received salvation, and who had been restored to his community. He had been transformed by Jesus Christ.
Maybe some of you are looking for Jesus right now, right here, today. Maybe you have come to a point in your life where what you have and where you are and who you are is not enough anymore. Maybe you are tired of being king of your own hill. Perhaps you are struggling with a guilty conscience. Or maybe you just know that there is something missing in your life. The good news is, Jesus is looking for you, too. Jesus is calling you by name. If you choose to answer, know that you will be changed, just as surely as Zaccheus was changed. You will not be the same person after you have met Jesus. But you will be a better person. Don’t be afraid to meet Jesus. Don’t be afraid to change. Don’t be afraid to be transformed by God. That is the long and the short of it.
