October 23, 2016: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.
Now, the thing about the Gospel of Luke is that, just when you think you know what Jesus is up to, you are likely heading down a rabbit hole. We are nearing the end of the Luke year, and we have learned a few things about Jesus in this author’s mind – just when you think you understand him, he flips over your expectations. Luke is a gospel of reversals. It is not for those without a sense of adventure and an ability to withstand having your world view flipped upside down.
So, fasten your seatbelts folks, because Jesus is at it again.
In the gospel, Jesus tells the story of two men. One is a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. You couldn’t have two more different people in terms of their regard in their community. One is a learned temple scholar, a leader of the faithful, revered in town. The other, an agent of oppression – doing the work of the empire, and profiting off of the tax payments – a man reviled in town. Both went to the temple to pray. The gospel says, “The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying…, `God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ (Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble, when you’re perfect in every way! – okay, that’s Mac Davis again, but I just couldn’t help myself). “…the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, `God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” Then Jesus says, “I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
And the trap is set.
And it is a paradoxical trap too. Because the moment we say to ourselves “thank God I am not like that Pharisee!” the trap is sprung and we are caught.
But wait…isn’t that the point?
Are not we not to be more like the tax collector, and less like the Pharisee? Isn’t that what Jesus meant when he ended the parable saying “for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted”? Yes…and no.
Okay, but at least we can be like the tax collector.
Safe, right?
Wrong. (I told you to fasten your seatbelts.)
While the tax collector seems to be a model of humility, like the Pharisee, he makes the whole prayer all about himself. Listen to the words each of them use: The Pharisee says “I” this, and “I” that. The tax collector beats his breast and says “be merciful to me, a sinner.” Both are standing (or kneeling) in prayer – which should be a conversation with God, and yet they are telling God about themselves. One is judging the other, and one is judging themself. Both of these folks have left God out of the conversation.
In other words – just when we think we are humble, we are not (sorry Mac Davis).
So, if we aren’t to be like either of these two, than why did Jesus use this parable? Well, as I said before, the Lukan Jesus really seemed to like these paradoxical twists. Perhaps because his followers tended from time to time to think they were the be all, end all, of Galilee. Or perhaps Jesus was warning us NOT to talk as the author of 2 Timothy in the passage today, who proclaimed, “…I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day…” (did anyone else find it fascinating to have this side by side with the gospel?). Or perhaps, Jesus was warning us of something that could ensnare us unawares, as it had both the Pharisee and the Tax Collector – the idea that it is all about us.
God is focused on relationship – God to us, us to God, us to one another. It isn’t that the Pharisee wasn’t righteous – he was. It isn’t that the tax collector wasn’t a sinner – he was (well, and so was the Pharisee). Sin is the separation from God. But here is the paradoxical twist…we cannot be reconciled to God, if we are not in relationship with one another. There cannot be love of God outside of love of neighbor (and self too). Right relationship with God, justification in a biblical sense, is impossible to do alone. Even if we lived on some remote island, without any other human, all of that creation is also the work of God. To be in right relationship, means to all of humanity – our neighbors – and to all of creation too. And that is where we fall into the trap. Because this faith stuff can’t be done on our own. It isn’t enough to be spiritual beings, communing with God on our own. We are born spiritual beings, all of us, and from the moment we are born, God is calling us into relationship with Her, and with one another.
In the words of one commentator, David Lose, “The temptation, of course, is to allow this parable to devolve into a predictable and bland morality tale: “Be humble!” But to do so is to miss the bite of this compact and potent story. The Pharisee is righteous, make no mistake. But he has bought his righteousness at the cost of relationship — relationship with God who stands only as the divine validator of his own goodness — and relationship with any and perhaps all others whom he deems contemptible…”[1]
You see, the trap we fall into is thinking that this is a parable about humility. It is not. It is a parable about two people – isolated by their own choice – judging themselves – worthy or unworthy – leaving God out of it.
And the church through history, seems to have gotten caught in the trap. Too often, the church has been as the Pharisee, judging others, and leaving in its’ wake a host of tax collectors – people who beat themselves up, feeling unworthy of God’s grace. Or we look down our noses at other faith traditions, denominations, or even others in the same denomination, as not doing this God thing the “right,” way. It is like a cartoon I use in my “Take Back The Bible Class” for the LGBT community that shows a Sunday School teacher pointing to a big chart on the wall. On the left side is the cross, and out of that springs a diagram showing the multitude of splits over the centuries. The teacher points to one of the small lines indicating their denomination and says to the children “This is where we got the bible right!” To which a child responds “Jesus is so lucky to have us!” In the immortal words of Charlie Brown “Good grief!”
We love to judge, don’t we. We seem to have just enough insecurity that we measure our own worth by measuring the worth of others, just as the Pharisee did. It’s like we have made life a big competition where there are winners and losers. And in the church, that can be a competition to show who gets this Christian thing right.
There’s a story I heard once about “the rivalry the young people of Shively Christian Church had with their counterparts at Shively Baptist. The competition was especially fierce in softball. One week, Pastor Stone of Shively Christian Church divided the youth into groups and instructed them to go out and find a practical way to be servants. He wanted them to be Jesus in their community for two hours. He challenged them, “If Jesus were here, what would he do?”
Two hours later the kids returned to report on their activities. One bunch had done yard work for an elderly man. Another had treated several widows from their church with ice cream treats. Another group brought a get well card to a hospitalized church member. Yet another went Christmas caroling at a nursing home even though it was mid-August.
But when the fifth group reported on their activity, everyone else groaned. This group went to the pastor of their rival church, Shively Baptist, and asked him if he knew someone who needed help. The pastor sent them to the home of an elderly woman who needed help with yard work. They mowed, raked and trimmed hedges. As they were leaving, the woman called them together and thanked them. “You kids at Shively Baptist are always coming to our rescue,” she told them.
“Shively Baptist!” Pastor Stone interrupted. “I sure hope you set her straight and told her you were from Shively Christian Church.” “Why, no, we didn’t,” they replied. “We didn’t think it mattered.”[2]
It really didn’t matter. Those kids, perhaps without really realizing it, taught their pastor a valuable lesson (they tend to do that a lot) – relationship with God and one another is all that matters. And yet, for most of us, this is not an easy thing to do – especially when the other, that neighbor we are called to love, stands for everything we would spend our lifetime fighting against.
Last week, at the Theology on Tap, the topic was “This Election Is Trying My Faith: A Dialog On Politics & Loving Our Neighbor.” To be sure, this was a timely topic. And also to be sure, this election has worn us out – so much so, that we had only a small turnout for it this month. But in the discussion we had, one theme seemed to emerge…that politics, as important as it may be, is not as important as staying in relationship with one another.
So many have had to defriend people on Facebook, or have been defriended themselves. Others, in the interest of preserving family peace, refuse to engage in any discussion about the election. And I think that is a good thing. Perhaps we all need a reset on November the 9th, no matter the outcome. See, from the point of view of God, there are no states, or countries for that matter. All those borders are things we have created – usually by killing one another. To God – everyone – all over the world – everyone is beloved. When we consider the world from the point of view of God – politics, governments, companies, all the workings of humanity – it all becomes as it should be – small, in light of the larger picture – that each of us is brother and sister to everyone else. Republicans and democrats, liberals and conservatives, gay and straight, men and women, the people of the US and the people of countries all over the world.
That is the macro view, and like looking up at the stars at night in the vastness of space it can humble us to the core. But what does it mean for each of us here in these pews. What is Jesus telling us, through this parable to do. When you get up for the peace, look at one another, really look at your brother and sister and see the face of Christ in them. Be humbled by that presence, and by the reality that they are seeing that in you too.
Jesus didn’t go into the temple and beat himself up, nor did he stand in it and claim how fabulously wonderful he is. God became incarnate, walked among us, not to cast judgment, but to show us how to live in right relationship with one another, and with God. That is the power of the cross – not as some sort of invitation to torture, but as an acknowledgement that the greatest love is the one that God has for each of us. Can we not offer one another the smallest amount of love in return? Must it always be conditional on liking the other’s world view?
We can never be in the fullness of relationship with God, if we are not in right relationship with others. And those others cannot just be those who think, look, love, act, or vote like we do.
This is a time in our country, in the world, where we have an important role to play as followers of Christ. We can choose to keep coming here and pray like the Pharisee, or beat ourselves up like the tax collector, but that is not what faith is about. Faith is about being out in the world, offering the healing power of love, and proclaiming that we can never, ever, be fully alive when any one of our brothers and sisters is demeaned, oppressed, forgotten, or marginalized – for as any suffers and we stay silent, it is as though we ourselves have been the cause of their suffering.
The trap of this parable is to stay in the temple and point fingers. The trap of this parable is that we are usually some form of both Pharisee and tax collector as we move thorough our lives, whether we realize it or not. The trap of this parable is a paradox – the moment we see ourselves as sinner or saint – we are casting judgement, and not in right relationship with God.
The way out of the trap?
Keep the focus on God – not on ourselves.
It isn’t about the Pharisee or the tax collector, not really. It is about remembering that God is alive and at work in our lives, and to pray for guidance and grace to live as God would have us live, to love as Christ loved us, and to never be concerned with how we measure up, but how we live in relationship with our brothers and sisters and all of God’s creation.
It isn’t easy, and we will fail. That is why our confession and absolution is so important.
Did you ever really notice the words of the confession? It isn’t about rattling off a list of things we think we got wrong, is it? It is all about relationship – “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry.” It is always about relationship – with God, and with one another.
As we do each week of our stewardship campaign, you will receive a gift, blessed at the altar. Today it is a palm sized olive wood cross. Keep that in your pocket, or your car, or on your desk. From time to time, let it rest in your hand, and consider what humility and great love looks like – love for you, love for your neighbor. Love that never ends. Love that asks only for you to seek a relationship with the one who loved you before you were born, and with all the other children of God all over the world.
And that, my friends, is the key to it all – the way out of the trap we set for ourselves (oh yes, we are the ones who laid the trap in the first place – the ultimate paradox isn’t it). The way out isn’t to beat ourselves up, but to open ourselves up – because we can’t love without being open, can we. The way out of the trap of humanity and into the life we are born to live, is to walk humbly in love, as Christ loved us – the love that keeps us in right relationship with God, with one another, with ourselves. The love that will always set us free.
Amen.
For the audio from the 10:30am service, click here:
[1] David Lose. Working Preacher. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1520
[2] “It really didn’t matter” reprinted in Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul (Deerfield Beach, Fla: Health Communications, Inc.), 82-3. (Originally printed in The Body (Dallas: Word, Inc., 1992).
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
October 23, 2016
Pentecost 23 – Year C
1st Reading – Joel 2:23-32
Psalm 65
2nd Reading – 2 Timothy 4:6-8,16-18
Gospel – Luke 18:9-14
