Day 14: Jesus Draws Near to Those Who are Alienated

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee was standing and praying like this about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other people—greedy, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.’

“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even raise his eyes to heaven but kept striking his chest and saying, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this one went down to his house justified rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” LUKE 18:9–14

WHEN I WAS AS kid, I loved climbing on the jungle gym in our backyard. It was a twelve-or-so-foot high, hollow-metal-tube apparatus shaped like a pyramid. I haven’t seen one like it in a long time—likely because they were the defendant in one too many lawsuits because they got slick from dew in the morning, or after a rain, and got hot enough to burn your hands in the summer, so falls and burns were inevitable. I had the wind knocked out of me multiple times from falling and sustained quite a few blisters myself on that rickety contraption! But by far the worst injury I sustained while scaling that primitive playground equipment was a broken heart.

It was late one afternoon and my best friend at the time (a five-year-old little girl who lived in the house behind us) and I were pretending the jungle gym was our castle. As make-believe princesses in an imaginary tower, we were cooing entreaties down to our invisible princes, when suddenly our soliloquies were interrupted by her mother hollering for her to come down immediately. Sally (name changed to protect the innocent) scrambled down from our perch and sheepishly walked over to her mom.

Sally’s mom was a large, loud woman who intimidated me a lot. Frankly, I think she rattled most of the adults in our neighborhood too because her typical tone was just short of a yell, she stomped when she walked, and she almost always wore too-tight, garishly bright, polyester, knee-length shorts. Trust me, when she came barreling toward you, it felt like being stuck in cement shoes in the middle of the highway in front of a speeding, neon SUV!

Which is why when she bellowed for Sally to climb down and meet her at the fence that separated our backyard from theirs, I tried to make myself as small and quiet as possible in order to stay out of her blast zone. Unfortunately, her voice was as booming as her Bermudas, so I clearly heard every word she said. And what came through her clenched teeth is still vivid all these years later: “Sally, I want you to come home this minute! Mr. and Mrs. Harper are getting divorced, so you can’t play with Lisa anymore because she’s nothing but trash!”

I can still remember how my friend glanced apologetically over her shoulder as her mom was pulling her away, and my guess is my face got red-hot with embarrassment. I was ashamed throughout childhood to be regarded by some as inferior because in the 1960s and ’70s I was one of only a handful of kids who came from a “broken home” in our small town.

During the earthly ministry of Jesus Christ, Jewish tax collectors were regarded as inferior too, which is apparent by the way they were often lumped in with “sinners” in parables. Although the reason they were scorned didn’t have anything to do with the demise of a marriage. Instead, tax collectors—who were also called “publicans” because they collected public revenue on behalf of the government—were infamous for charging whatever the market would bear and then skimming off the top before turning the coffers over to the Roman government, who cruelly imposed heavy tariffs on Israel during the first century. Which meant the tax collectors we often read about in the four Gospel accounts basically bought their Mercedes and fancy Mediterranean homes at the expense of their hardworking neighbors.

However, instead of deriding these unethical embezzlers like most people would have in the Ancient Near East, our Messiah befriended them (remember the short-statured dude name Zacchaeus who climbed up in a sycamore tree?), made one the hero in a widely circulated tale about humility, and intentionally chose one named Matthew to join His team of disciples! King Jesus is the only One who’s ever walked this earth who was truly superior to anyone else He rubbed shoulders with, yet He never played that card in a cruel way. He didn’t make fun of teammates who struck out in T-ball. He didn’t mock schoolmates with noticeable lisps. And He sure didn’t snub forlorn pals whose parents were splitting up. When the rest of the world distances themselves from those they consider beneath them using judgmental gestures and voices (and sometimes scary shorts), Jesus mercifully chooses to draw near to those who are alienated. Hallelujah, what a Savior!

• READ LUKE 19:1–10. What fresh detail can you find in this true story often dismissed as children’s fiction? What does it imply about the inclusive and invitational nature of Jesus?
• WHO WOULD QUALIFY as a modern-day “tax collector”—someone who tends to be snubbed or scorned by others—in your circle of friends, acquaintances, or coworkers? What are some practical ways you might be able to align with them instead of avoiding them or alienating them?