
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Holy Week bonus message for Palm Sunday.
"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your King is coming to you; He is just and having salvation, lowly and riding on a donkey."
— Zechariah 9:9
The crowds spread their cloaks and waved their palm branches, expecting a conquering warrior on a warhorse. Instead, heaven's King rode in on a borrowed donkey — not with a sword drawn, but with arms open wide. This was no political revolution dressed in armor; it was a divine rescue mission wrapped in humility. The same hands that flung stars into the sky held no weapon, sought no palace, commanded no legion. He came not to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. Every expectation the world had of power and greatness, He quietly, deliberately turned inside out.
No crown, no throne, no army — just a donkey and a King who came to give His life for the world. He still turns the world upside down. Will you?
Simply Fellowship — Episode 2: Zacchaeus
Above All Love Devotional Blog
WELCOME
Welcome to Above All Love. This is Simply Fellowship — the Good News, quietly told.
This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't have to have it together to be here. You don't have to be respectable, or popular, or have a good reputation. You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this.
If you need to take a break, step away and come back later — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here.
HYMN
We begin with a hymn. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on.
Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
PRAYER
Loving God,
Thank you for seeking us out — even when we have climbed our own trees to watch from a distance, not daring to get too close.
Help us to hear you calling our name today.
Give us the courage to come down and welcome you in.
May we know that we are seen, loved, and invited — by you.
Amen.
SCRIPTURE
Our reading today is from Luke chapter nineteen, verses one to ten, from the Easy English Bible.
Jesus went into Jericho and he was walking through the town. A man was there called Zacchaeus. He was a chief tax collector and he was rich. He wanted to see who Jesus was. But he could not see him because of the crowd. He was not a tall man. So he ran ahead and he climbed up into a tree to see Jesus. Jesus would pass that way. Jesus came to that place and he looked up. He said to Zacchaeus, 'Come down quickly. I must stay at your house today.' Zacchaeus came down quickly and he was very happy to receive Jesus. The people who saw this were not pleased and they said, 'Jesus has gone to stay with a man who is a sinner.' But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, 'Lord, I will give half of everything I own to poor people. And if I have cheated anyone, I will pay them back four times as much.' Jesus said to him, 'Today, God has saved this home. This man is also a son of Abraham. The Son of Man came to look for the people who are lost and to save them.'
DEVOTION
Zacchaeus is not a popular man. He collects taxes for the Roman occupiers — which means he takes money from his own people, and often takes more than he should. The crowd knows it. And Zacchaeus knows the crowd knows it.
So he doesn't push to the front. He finds a tree. He watches from a distance. Safe. Hidden. But still — curious. Still drawn to Jesus, even if he doesn't think he belongs anywhere near him.
And then Jesus stops. Looks up. And calls him by name.
Not to scold him. Not to expose him. To invite himself to dinner.
The crowd is outraged. This is not the right kind of person to sit with. But Jesus doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. He has come to find the lost — and Zacchaeus, for all his money, is very lost indeed.
Something happens in that moment of being seen and welcomed. Zacchaeus comes down from the tree a different man. Before Jesus has even said a word about sin or repentance, Zacchaeus is already transformed by grace.
That's what love does. Not pressure. Not judgement. Love.
Many of us have been Zacchaeus. We've watched from a distance, not sure we'd be welcome. Not sure we're the right kind of person. Not sure God would want to come and stay at our house, given what our house is like.
But Jesus looks up into the tree and calls us by name....
Before this reflection, let us remember the words of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew:
"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God."
(Matthew 5:9, NIV)
Today, we honour the lives lost in conflict. We wear the poppy, some white, some red, but we all pray for peace. Our faith calls us to seek the Kingdom of God, a place where war cannot exist.
We must listen to those who saw the horrors. Wilfred Owen spoke against the great lie of war, condemning:
"The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est / Pro patria mori."
Harry Patch confirmed the grim truth:
"War is organized murder, and nothing else."
Even those who commanded felt despair; General William Tecumseh Sherman said:
"I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine... War is hell."
Our Christian faith demands that we stop excusing war. As C.H. Spurgeon taught:
"I wish that Christian men would insist more and more on the unrighteousness of war, believing that Christianity means no sword, no cannon, no bloodshed..."
Our hope is found in God’s promise to guide us away from destruction:
"They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more." (Isaiah 2:4)
Building this peace takes courage—a deeper courage than fighting. Albert Einstein challenged us:
"We must be prepared to make heroic sacrifices for the cause of peace that we make ungrudgingly for the cause of war."
We must work for it every day. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. taught us that:
"It is not enough to say 'We must not wage war.' It is necessary to love peace and sacrifice for it."
Let our act of remembrance be a promise: to follow Christ's love, turn away from hatred, and finally learn war no more.
Amen.
From the publisher's feed