My father named me “Hon” – the Hebrew word for “wealth” and “riches.” He should have named me “Shachat,” - the Hebrew word for “destroyed” because since as far back as I can remember I have been a target for destruction. We lived just outside of the city of Jericho.

One night when I was three years old I was awakened by loud shouts. I heard my mother screaming and my father crying out. I heard men cursing and dishes breaking. I slid out of my bed and hid underneath it as far back to the wall as I could get. I grabbed clothes on the floor and pulled them in front of me.

Somebody opened my door and walked in holding an oil lamp and started saying, “Come out little child.” When he moved my bed, I held my breath. I couldn’t move. Just then my little brother let out a cry from his bed on the other side of the room just a few feet away. He had been asleep and woke up when the stranger jolted his bed.

The man stepped over and pulled him from his bed. I remember the man’s words, “Your baby dies tonight!” The men left and I never saw my brother again. Every time I think about that night I feel its terror through my whole body.

After the intruders left, my mother came into my room, pulled away the clothes, crawled under my bed, and held me in her arms there under the bed as we cried. She said that the men had killed my father, but just a little later we heard him groaning, so we got out from under the bed. The men hurt my father really bad and he couldn’t walk or work for a long time.

I was short, much smaller than other kids my age. My father and mother were small too. When I was six, other kids treated me like I was three and didn’t want me to play with them or be with them. They would talk about me right in front of me thinking that I didn’t understand them, but I did. So I was very lonely. My brother had been killed, my father worked all day and was gone from our house, so I was with my mother most of the time. She was sad all the time from the death of my little brother.

Near my eighth birthday, my father told my mother to lock me out of the house after breakfast so I could learn to survive on my own. At first I stayed pretty close to home, but as I met other children they wouldn’t play with me or talk to me. I think they were afraid of me because I was not like them. That was when I began climbing trees. I got pretty good at getting way up near the tops of trees. I could sit up there and feel strong. In time, no one could climb as high as I could. But that was when I began hearing other kids call me “Monkeyboy.” One night I told my parents that I was the monkey boy and they both laughed. Then my father told me to get used to being different, and to be tough. “You may be little,” he said, “but don’t let anyone think you are weak. That means don’t cry. Take whatever they give you and give it back to them as hard and as long as you can. This is the only way they may come to respect you,” he said.

One day when I was eleven, a group of six boys surrounded me, started laughing at Monkeyboy and calling me other names too. One of the biggest boys said, “I wonder how far I can throw the Monkeyboy.” Another one said, “I can throw him further than you can.” There was no way I could see to get away from them. The first one grabbed me by my wrists, picked me up and swung me twice around his head and heaved me as far as he could. The ground was hard where I landed, and as I landed outside the circle of boys, I tried to get up to run away, but the second boy grabbed me by the ankles, picked me up, swung me around his head three times and heaved me back toward the first boy. This time I landed on my back and couldn’t breathe.

Before I could even move a third boy picked me up by the wrists and said, “This is fun. Let’s see how far I can throw the monkey.” I realized I couldn’t get away, so I tried to soften the landings by reaching for the ground with my hands and feet, rolling then lying still. The boys all took a turn at throwing me. The last boy tried to lift me off the ground, but couldn’t, so he dropped my arms and kicked me instead. Then they walked away laughing and talking about how much fun they had.

One last comment one of the boys made as they walked away was, “Maybe that will make the tax man think twice before gouging our parents again.” All the boys laughed, and one said, “If my parents’ taxes aren’t much lower this year, our next meeting with Monkeyboy will be a lot more fun – for us!”

When I got home, covered with bruises, my mother asked what happened. “A bunch of boys threw me around,” I replied. “I’m OK. But as they walked away, one of them said that if his parents’ taxes aren’t lower this year they will have much more fun with me. What is that about?”

That’s when I found out about my father’s job. Mom told me that he collects taxes for the Romans! So it is not just because I am small that I am hated. The Romans had hired Dad to collect taxes from all the families in the city and would pay him on the basis of how much he collected. That was why thugs killed my baby brother. That’s why no one likes me – not just because I’m different, but because we are wealthy.

One day a year or so later, I was walking home from the marketplace where my mother had sent me to buy some food. Our home was not in town; no one wanted us living close to them so I was walking on the path to get home when I was suddenly surrounded again by big boys. “What you got, Monkeyboy? Let’s see what’s in the bag.” Before I could even say anything a boy behind me snatched the bag, opened it and said, “He bought us all lunch! That is so nice of you, Monkeyboy!” He began tossing some of the fruit to his friends who began eating it.

I noticed a space in the circle of boys, and jumped at the chance to get out and up a tree where they couldn’t get me. I was fast enough to get outside the circle and start up a nearby tree, but before I could get up out of reach, a tall boy grabbed my ankle. I kicked with my other foot, but missed, and he grabbed it too. Now both of us were hanging from the branch I had reached. Soon I couldn’t hold on any longer and was pulled off the branch. We both fell to the ground with me on top of the tall boy.

Immediately the other boys were pulling me off of him. “You thought you could get away from us?” one of them said. We have something special planned just for you. Now all of them were clawing at me, pulling me in different directions. They took off all my clothes and tied me to a tree with rope one of the boys had brought. Then they started throwing the food they hadn’t eaten at me, and after that came the rocks. Then they started taking turns punching me and kicking me. Finally they just walked away and left me there, tied to the tree. I think they thought I was dead, and I thought I might just die, especially if no one came by to untie me.

I don’t know how long I was hanging there, but I became aware that someone was untying me. My eyes were swollen shut, but I heard my mother’s voice crying as she finished untying me. “When you didn’t come home I decided I should come looking for you,” she said as she untied the last knot. “I’m going to turn my back to you and pull your arms over my shoulders so I can carry you home.” I don’t know how she did it because by then I was as big as she was.

I couldn’t get out of bed for over a week, but my mother took care of me every day, and sometimes during the night as well.

About a week later one evening, my father came home with some guests. Mother had not planned on feeding anyone but our family, but managed to put together vegetables and lamb she already had into a soup that filled us all. We even had more left over than we needed!

One of the guests was a Rabbi named “Jesus.” Father told us how he had heard about this Rabbi and wanted to meet him, but as Jesus and his followers walked into Jericho he couldn’t see the Rabbi because of the crowd of tall people, so he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree. Now he could see. Then Jesus stopped when he came under the tree, looked up, and said “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.”

“As I climbed back down the tree,” Hon’s father said, “I was overwhelmed that this Rabbi knew my name even though no one would have told him who I am. Secondly he was a righteous Rabbi, yet he didn’t hate me, an evil sinner. And third, he even wanted to come to our house!” Zacchaeus stopped.

“Tell them the rest,” said Jesus.

Zacchaeus continued, “I recognized how holy Jesus is in contrast to my wickedness, and was immediately full of sorrow and repentance. I wanted more than anything and everything to be Jesus’ friend. So I said, ‘Look Master! (I wanted him to know I am nothing and he is everything) Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.’ The people standing there heard me, so my commitment is going to cost me a lot of money, but that is OK, I want Jesus’ righteousness.”

Zacchaeus turned and looked at Jesus again. Then Jesus turned and looked at Hon’s mother and then at Hon. “I told your father that today salvation has come to this house, because your father is a son of Abraham as are you, Hon. I have come to seek and to save what was lost.

“Am I lost?” asked Hon.

“Yes,” replied Jesus. “That is why you think you should be named Shachat. You have been hated, but you learned to hate too. In saying salvation has come to this house I want you all to know that I love you enough to die for you so that through me you can have eternal life. When your life on earth ends you will immediately be with me in heaven for the rest of eternity. Do you want that?

“Yes,” said Hon, and his mother nodded then said “So do I.”

“Know, then that salvation has come to your whole house. Know that you are all new people, loved by God. You will still be hated by many people, but now you will learn to love instead of hating back. Hon, I will call you ‘Chen’ because you now have favor with God, and this will become the way people will describe you as they described me when I was a young man. I invite your father to change your name as well, from Hon to Chen.”


Family Discussion Questions
From Riches to Favor

This story is fictional, based on the true account of the events recorded by Dr. Luke in Luke 19:1-9.

Q. What words did you hear in the story that you didn’t know?

A. Give your children the meaning of each word they remember but can’t define.

Q. Do you remember a time when you were so scared you couldn’t move? If so please tell us about it.

A. Listen as your kids tell you their story, or if they were never that scared ask them to tell you about that time. After they have told you, please tell them about a time you were very scared. Your vulnerability will bond them to you in new ways.

Q. Ask your kids if they can remember a time when kids they wanted to play with wouldn’t play with them. What were their feelings. Do they still feel those feelings?

A. If your kids still struggle with rejection, ask them how they hold on to the relationships they had with the kids who rejected them. You may want to share some of your own feelings of being rejected too. When they accept how much you love them and God loves them they may become ready to forgive and let go.

Q. Have you ever felt hated? Have you ever felt hatred toward someone?

A. Discuss hatred and how it hurts the hater as much as the hated.

Q. The following paragraph is from the end of the story. Please discuss it to discover your kids’ level of understanding about starting a relationship with God through Messiah Jesus.

I have come to seek and to save what was lost.

“Am I lost?” asked Hon.

“Yes,” replied Jesus. “That is why you think you should be named Shachat. You have been hated, but you learned to hate too. In saying salvation has come to this house I want you all to know that I love you enough to die for you so that through me you can have eternal life. When your life on earth ends you will immediately be with me in heaven for the rest of eternity. Do you want that?

“Yes,” said Hon, and his mother nodded then said “so do I.”

“Know, then that salvation has come to your whole house. Know that you are all new people, loved by God. You will still be hated by many people, but now you will learn to love instead of hating back.