The gospels point out that, before his conversion, Zacchaeus was a short man, someone lacking in height, but after his conversion, the tall man gave back what the small man had stolen. Meeting Jesus made Zacchaeus grow bigger in stature. Fr. Rolheiser writes that this is what goodness does to us; it makes us grow taller. It’s interesting to note that the word “Gospel” means “good news,” not “good advice.” The gospels are not so much a spiritual and moral theology book that tells us what we should be doing but are more an account of what God has already done for us, is still doing for us, and the extraordinary dignity that this bestows on us. Of course, the idea is that since we are gifted in this way, our actions should reflect that dignity rather than what’s less lofty and pettier inside us. Morality is not a command; it’s an invitation, not a threat, but a reminder of who we truly are. We become taller and less petty when we remember what kind of family we ultimately come from. We all have two souls, two hearts, and two minds. Inside each of us, there’s a soul, heart, and mind that’s petty, that’s been hurt, that wants vengeance, that wants to protect itself, that’s frightened of what’s different, that’s prone to gossip, that’s racist, that perennially feels cheated. We are always both grand and petty. The world isn’t divided between big-hearted and small-minded people. Instead, our days are divided up between those moments when we are big-hearted, generous, warm, hospitable, unafraid, wanting to embrace everyone and those moments when we are petty, selfish, over-aware of the unfairness of life, frightened, and seeking only to protect ourselves and our own safety and interests. To walk tall means to walk within our God-given dignity. Nothing else, ultimately, gives us as large an identity. The teaching of the Gospel doesn’t shame us with our pettiness but invites us to what’s already best inside us.