Jesus didn't wait for an invitation. He came and got people, even people who were hiding like Zacchaeus, even people who were lost.

Consider this scene that every parent has been confronted with at some time. You are busy in the kitchen getting dinner ready while your child and a neighbor friend are playing out back. Suddenly, two hopeful faces confront you, and you hear, "Mom/Dad, Jamie can stay for dinner can't he? Please, oh please!"

Now, really! What are you supposed to do - throw poor, starving, little "Jamie" out on the street? No matter what your plans for a quiet family meal might have been, your child's sense of hospitality has changed everything.

Children seem to be naturally hospitable. They invite friends over to play. They invite all sorts of creatures to share their room. They seem committed to leaving the front door wide open. It takes years of what we like to call "socializing" to teach our children to be inhospitable. We drill into them that they must first ask us before asking their friends over for dinner or to stay the night. We insist our home is not a rescue shelter for injured ants, birds, spiders or snakes. We teach them to close and lock doors and never to open them to anyone unknown.

While some of these are measures to protect our children from an increasingly scary and dangerous world, many of these lessons are passed on so that we may always have the opportunity to say "No." We want to be able to deny hospitality to anyone, at any time, for any reason - but we don't necessarily want to do it to that person's face.

In today's gospel text, we hear all about Jesus' bad manners. Seeing Zacchaeus clinging to the branches of that sycamore, Jesus calls out to him and simply invites himself over as a house guest! Zacchaeus may not really have intended to get directly involved with this Jesus. He had clambered up that tree only in order to get a good look at this notorious preacher and teacher who caused such a stir.

Now, suddenly, he is being greeted by name and told by this Jesus that he is coming to his house, right now! Perhaps, in the back of his mind, Zacchaeus had hoped he might get his own chance to speak with Jesus. To be sure, his tree-climbing antics seem pretty extreme for a man who claimed only a mild interest in Jesus. But Jesus doesn't wait for Zacchaeus to decide if he would like to offer the hospitality of his home or not - Jesus makes his own invitation. He invites Zacchaeus to host him.

There is no hiding place from God. Zacchaeus thought he could spy on Jesus from his treetop perch without being noticed. But divine eyesight sought him out.

There is no hiding place from God. The prophet Elijah headed for the hills. He ran until he came to Mt.Horeb, where he crawled deep into a cave. Outside Elijah's cave, God puts on a great display of awesome power. Whipping winds, an earthquake and a fire, all rage outside the cave. But Elijah does not venture to the mouth of his cavern until he hears the sound of "sheer silence." It is from out of that silence that God's voice again comes to his reluctant prophet, asking him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" (1 Kings 19:1-13).

You cannot hide from God either. There is no tree high enough, there is no cave deep enough, there is no desert wide enough, to keep out the prying, prodding, pleading voice of God. Whatever hiding place you've chosen, know this. It is not nearly as clever or inaccessible as you think.

There is no hiding from God ...
... in a bottle of white pills
... in a bottle of gold liquid
... in a time-consuming job
... in a household
... in an impressive bank account
... in a scruffy food bank
... in an unmade bed

The church must unlearn its etiquette. We must follow God's example and start inviting ourselves into the lives of those who have sought shelter in caves or sought safe distance in tree- tops. It is our mission as the church to go out into the world and seek others. There should always be strangers in our midst.

When visitors come to our home, we know how to treat them hospitably. We welcome them and show them a seat. We don't expect them to know where the living room is by instinct. We bring them something to eat or drink. We don't expect them to know where the glasses are in the cupboard or where we keep the crackers. We direct them to the bathroom, and we walk them into the dining room. It's all just common courtesy.

But our church-homes don't always practice such "common" courtesy. For those of us "at home" in Sunday morning worship, the whole procedure is familiar and comfortable. But to outsiders, to seeking strangers, it may be a confusing, embarrassing maze. Standing and sitting at some unknown cue, reciting prayers and creeds that they don't see written anywhere, juggling hymnals, prayer books, bulletin handouts and orders of worship, they are always fearful that they might do something "wrong."

This is why we need to offer "Seeker Services." When Jesus called Zacchaeus out of his tree and invited himself over, he did not order the tax collector to put on a big spread or throw a fancy party. Jesus only said he must "stay at your house today." Jesus kept it simple.

Seeker services must also keep it simple, low-key, non-threatening. Not a lot of "smells and bells," but a multitude of "smiles and joy." Seeker services are designed to show that life outside the cave and down from the tree is a life worth living. The beauty of liturgy, the power behind ritual, the tradition of prayer and creed - will never be accessible to these seekers if we don't first entice them in the door with an invitation that is casual and comfortable.

When we, the church, open our doors to the seekers, the strangers who live all around us, we will find that we are, in fact, playing host to our most important guest. Jesus calls us to come and dine with him.

But Jesus wants you and me to be the host.