Praying in the Lost and Found

06/10/2025
The focus of St. James Presbyterian Church’s weekly 30-minute Prayer Break Gathering is based on one of the scriptures of our PCUSA Daily Lectionary, Luke 19:1-10. Today will be focusing our thoughts on verse 10.
Meditation: Praying in the Lost and Found
Many of us have walked down roads paved with good intentions, following maps we thought were sure—directions handed down by family, culture, faith, or pride. We believed we were headed the right way, only to discover we were as misplaced as a left shoe forced onto the right foot—out of step, uncomfortable, and unable to carry us forward.
In the Gospel of Luke, just before Zaccheus appears, there is another seeker—a rich young ruler, confident and devout. He approaches Jesus with the résumé of righteousness: “I have kept all the commandments since my youth,” he says. He believes himself to be found. But Jesus sees deeper and invites him to go further--“Sell all you own and give to the poor... then come, follow me.” And just like that, the young man falters. Though he stands face to face with the Teacher, he turns away. He cannot release what he holds most tightly. The road he walked so faithfully becomes a detour into sorrow. He chooses—quietly, heartbreakingly—to remain lost.
Then comes Zaccheus.
Short in stature but bloated with power, he is no one’s idea of a holy man. As a tax collector for the empire, Zaccheus has made himself rich off the backs of his own people. He is lost to them—exiled in plain sight, mistrusted, misjudged, unloved. And yet... he climbs a tree. Not to perform, not to be seen, but to see. Somewhere in him is a yearning, a spark, a hope that maybe—just maybe—Jesus might look up.
And Jesus does.
Jesus looks up into that tree and sees more than a corrupt official. He sees a man who dared to climb, to reach, to be ridiculous in pursuit of something real. And in that gaze, something breaks open in Zaccheus. He doesn’t ask what to do. He knows. He offers restitution. He gives freely. He opens his hands, his home, his heart. In being seen, he is transformed. In being found, he becomes new.
And Jesus says what the crowd could not understand: “Today salvation has come to this house... For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”
Let that sink in: Jesus did not come to congratulate the found, but to seek and to save the lost. Not to weigh people on the scales of religious worthiness, but to walk into the shadows and call people by name. Because in truth, we are all travelers in the great, unorganized room of the world’s lost and found. Some days we are holding someone else’s pain. Other days, we are waiting for someone to recognize our worth. And often, without even realizing it, we trade places between lost and found with each breath we take.
So here is the holy invitation: pray as if you don’t know the whole story—because you don’t. Pray as if the person you’re tempted to dismiss might just be climbing their own tree, desperate to see Jesus. Let your prayers make room. Let your prayers widen the circle. Let your prayers open the door for grace to do what only grace can do. Pray because god is good.
Whom will you pray for today—not to be fixed, not to be shamed, but to be found?
And might your own soul be waiting to be found, too?

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