Dear Friends in Christ,
As sinners go, Zacchaeus was a ‘big fish’ or perhaps it would be better to say a ‘big shark’. As a chief tax collector, he was responsible for other tax collectors and no doubt very experienced in the dark art of exploiting and cheating others. There was a real sense of venom and hatred for these traitors – they were seen as the scum of the earth, the lowest of the low. Ironically, the name Zacchaeus means ‘innocent’ or ‘pure’, but there was nothing pure and innocent about him. His wealth was the fruit of a corrupt tax system in which the Jewish tax collectors secured their own piece of the pie by charging a further levy and skimming off for themselves. They were literally getting wealthy on the back of others.
It might not be much of an exaggeration to say that Zacchaeus was as loathed and despised by the general public as a drug dealer or drug baron might be today. Imagine then the shock and indignation that would be caused if Pope Francis invited himself to dine at such a drug baron’s or drug dealer’s house. Pandemonium would break out at the knowledge that the head of the Catholic Church was associating with such people. But what if our drug baron or drug dealer truly gave his life to the Lord and became a Catholic! Zacchaeus’ conversion is dramatic and generous, reflecting his experience of Jesus’ goodness and generosity. His story teaches us that no one is beyond the pale, no one beyond redemption, and that God’s grace and mercy reaches into the deepest and darkest hearts.
Jesus did not come to call the righteousness but the unrighteous. Jesus came to seek and save the lost, and the truth is that we are all lost. The rich young man encountered the Lord and went away sad. Zacchaeus encountered the Lord and went away filled with the joy of conversion. God works in amazing ways: those we think are far away from God are closer than we realise, and those we think are close to God may be further away that we imagine.
Lord, you treated everyone you met with dignity and compassion; as persons created in your image and likeness. May I now go and do likewise.
‘Do you think I came to bring Peace to earth? No, I tell you, but division’. The trust is the name of Jesus divides as much as it unites. There are many in our world who despise the name of Jesus. Indeed, his name is used by many as a word of cursing. Try mentioning Jesus’ name in polite company. Sometimes even in Church circles, to mention the name of Jesus creates a hostile reaction. Why is this? It is because Jesus is God. His is the name above all other names and before him all things, in heaven and on earth, will bow down. Jesus did come to bring peace on earth but this peace was secures through the bloody suffering of his cross. First came division, hatred and violence, and then came the peace that only Jesus the Prince of Peace, can pour out, the peace of Christ in our hearts. 
Astonishingly, today in the gospel Jesus compares himself to a thief who unpredictably burgles a house. In this and other ways, Jesus teaches graphically that he will return, and that his return will always be a surprise. Yet his return must not catch us unawares: ‘Let your loins be girded and your lamps burning.’
Dear Friends in Christ 
God the Father is not like the unwilling neighbour, but is generous, kind and benevolent provider for his children’s needs. We discover who God is more through prayer, than any other spiritual exercise, for it is in prayer that the Spirit woks in us to expand not just our minds but our hearts, our imagination and our horizons.
In a story unique to St. Luke’s Gospel, we read of a remarkable and beautiful incident in Jesus’ life. Mary of Magdalene, whose feast we celebrate tomorrow, is traditionally associated with the Mary before us today but scholars think that it is unlikely to be the same person, believing this woman to be Mary of Bethany. What is clear is that, like Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany loved the Lord. In this account, she did not wash his feet with her weeping or anoint his body with expensive nard but she showed that one thing was needed, and that was to sit at the Master’s feet and learn from him
It is, however, hard not to feel some sympathy for Marth, who in this understanding embodies the apostolic approach, Mary can come across as a kind of ‘goody two shoes’. Martha on the other hand, has not airs and graces; she is a worker and not a shirker. Clearly both women were serving the Lord, but Mary, in Jesus’ own words, chose what is better. This doesn’t mean what Martha was doing in that moment wasn’t good or noble or worthy, or even right for her to be doing; it simply means that ultimately sitting at the Lord’s feet and learning from him who is humble and gentle or heart is the goal of our faith.
Some of the early Fathers of Scripture scholarship, such as Origin, St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, discerned in the parable of the Good Samaritan a much deeper meaning than helping our neighbour. They approached the parable allegorically – in other words, as a device in which the characters or events represents or symbolise real people and real events and communicate a hidden and profound message. Approaching Scriptures allegorically can open up deeper and deeper layers to its meaning. Some theologians dislike this approach because they fear that we can read into the text significance which the original author did not intend. But they themselves often approach Scripture in the wrong way, studying and discussing it like a Shakespeare play or another ancient text. Scripture is the divine Word of God and by its very nature there are always hidden depths to plumb.
Nowadays the idea of ‘evangelism’ also carries a certain taboo element. For sure, there are conferences on the subject and books written, and the occasional Sunday homily on our call to spread the gospel, but how seriously the subject is taken is 
enthusiasm and conviction. The key is in the name: the gospel is Good News. If we don’t experience it as Good News, we don’t share it as Good News. The Holy Spirit is the One who creates within us as burning desire to both witness to and share our faith. We pray for this blessing and anointing of faith. 
Our word Eucharist has its roots in the Greek words 
Paul having suffered intensely at the hands of his fellow believers, who constantly questioned his authority and credentials, pointed to this gift of revelation as the way in which he took hold of the gospel: ‘For I would have you know, brethren, that the gospel which was preached by me is not man’s gospel. For I did not receive it from man, nor was taught it, but it came through the revelation of Jesus Christ’. There you have it in a nutshell: the two apostles were both recipients of the grace of revelation.