Restorer of Identities

In this message, Pastor Stephen So opens up the story of Zacchaeus to show Jesus as the One who restores identity and calls us by name. Through humour, raw honesty, and powerful pictures, he asks a confronting question: are we just spectators in the crowd, or are we willing to “climb the tree” to see Jesus for ourselves?

Climbing the Tree: Desire That Refuses to Quit

Stephen imagines Zacchaeus as a small, wealthy chief tax collector who has probably been mocked his whole life for his size and his job. Yet when Jesus comes through Jericho, Zacchaeus has one simple desire: “I just want to see Him.” That desire leads him to run ahead of the crowd and climb a sycamore tree. Stephen paints it as almost comical: a short, unfit man in nice clothes trying again and again to climb a big old tree, slipping down, getting sweaty, and trying once more. But underneath the humour is a hard question: “What tree are you climbing to see Jesus? And have you stopped because it’s too hard?” Zacchaeus is not driven by a need for healing or provision. He just wants to see who Jesus really is. In a crowd full of needy people pulling on Jesus for miracles, Jesus senses one man whose desire is simply to see Him—and He responds.

When Jesus reaches the spot, He looks up and calls, “Zacchaeus.” Stephen wonders when Zacchaeus last heard his own name, instead of nicknames and insults like “sinner,” “short guy,” or “tax thief.” As a child he was probably teased for his height, and as an adult hated for his job. Yet in front of everyone, Jesus stops, looks up, and calls him by name. That one word begins to heal years of shame and rejection.

Kindness That Leads to Repentance

Jesus invites Himself over: “Zacchaeus, come down. I must stay at your house today.” While the crowd grumbles, focused on what they want Jesus to do for them, Zacchaeus receives Him with joy. Stephen challenges our tendency to compare: “How often do we look at someone else’s breakthrough and say, ‘God, what about me?’” Instead, he urges the church to be a community that genuinely celebrates others’ miracles—even when our own lives feel stuck, heavy, or hopeless.

Without Jesus preaching at him about sin, Zacchaeus stands and declares, “Half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I’ve wronged anyone, I will pay them back four times.” Jesus never told him to do that. Instead, Zacchaeus is undone by pure kindness. Stephen reminds us, “It’s His kindness that leads us into repentance.” When we truly encounter Jesus, our grip on money, status, and security loosens. Repentance stops being about ticking boxes and becomes a natural response to love.

Stephen shares a story about Charles Spurgeon breaking down in tears because he realised his heart had grown numb to the cross. He challenges us to ask: When was the last time I cried out of gratitude that Jesus saved my life? If our hearts feel dull, the prayer is simple: “God, capture my heart again with Your kindness. Don’t let me carry sin and numbness; show me what’s wrong so I can walk clean with You.”

From “Sinner” to “Son of Abraham”

After Zacchaeus’ repentance, Jesus declares, “Today salvation has come to this house… because he too is a son of Abraham.” Jesus doesn’t just forgive Zacchaeus; He publicly restores his identity in front of the very people who labelled him. They knew him as “that small, corrupt tax collector.” Jesus now names him “son of Abraham” – a rightful member of God’s family. Stephen underlines this as a picture of what Jesus does for us: “It doesn’t matter what you think about yourself. It doesn’t matter what others have called you. Jesus says, ‘You are My son, My daughter. You belong to Me, and I belong to you.’”

He then turns the mirror on us: when people look at your life, what do they say? Do your choices make people wonder, “Why are they still full of joy when life is so hard? Why do they keep opening their home? Why do they keep saying yes to God when it doesn’t make sense?” Stephen says our character is revealed in our choices, and often the most powerful witness is when we make decisions that don’t make sense to the world but make perfect sense to God.

He shares about travelling into dangerous places like Ukraine, where drones and missile attacks are real threats. Friends and family question his decisions, but the conviction he lives by is: “The safest place is where Jesus is.” If God has gone before and called him there, obedience is safer than comfort. This is the kind of “tree-climbing” faith that confuses the world but delights the heart of God.

Streams of Living Water, Not Just a Well

As the message moves into ministry, Stephen senses God speaking about the church not becoming a stagnant well that hoards living water. A well that never flows eventually goes bad. Instead, he sees a picture of streams of living water flowing through the church and through each believer’s life—outwards to campuses, workplaces, families, and the broken. “Don’t just hold the living water for yourself. Let it flow.”

He describes many of us standing at the edge of the river, hesitant to jump in: “I don’t know how to swim. I don’t know what it looks like. I still feel too selfish and weak.” Yet the Holy Spirit is like a strong current that will carry us if we simply say yes. The invitation is not to figure everything out but to jump into what God is already doing—to move towards the poor, the hopeless, the lonely, the campuses, the widows, the lost. That is where Jesus is waiting.

Stephen reminds us that all of this flows out of identity. Jesus restored Zacchaeus’ identity, and now we carry that same calling: “I am a restorer of identities because my identity has been restored.” In our workplaces, house churches, families, and friendships, we are sent to tell people who they really are in Christ. Every day we have the chance to call out “son” and “daughter” in those who only hear “failure,” “sinner,” or “not enough.”

Conclusion: Now Is the Time to Jump In

Stephen closes by asking us to think of the people who didn’t give up on us—the ones who prayed, believed, and stood in the gap so we could be where we are today. He shares a vivid dream of his grandmother returning after her funeral, saying, “I have not finished praying for you,” then disappearing into her room to keep praying. That picture becomes a call: it’s now our turn to be that person for someone else.

“Who is the Zacchaeus in your life?” he asks. Who is up in a tree, curious but confused, wanting to see Jesus but not knowing how? Who do you need to stand with, pray for, and speak identity over? The Spirit is giving names and faces, and the prayer becomes: “God, send me to them. Use me to restore identity the way You restored mine.”

The message ends with a strong, repeated conviction: “Now is the time.” Not later, not when life is easier, not when we feel more spiritual. Now is the time to jump into the river, to let living water flow through us, to witness miracles, breakthroughs, and impossible things becoming reality. We are not called to stay in the crowd complaining; we are called to climb the tree, hear our name, receive a new identity, and then go out as restorers of identity to a world drowning in confusion.

Now is the time to say yes. Now is the time to let the streams of living water flow