[Sermon delivery for Pentecost XX (October 27), 2019 at the parish church of St. Mary the Virgin, Phoenix, Arizona (https://stmarysphoenix.org)]
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
‘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.’[1]
Did you ever wonder about this? Time and again, we get little sayings from Jesus that seems to turn all our expectations on their ear, but we’ve been hearing them so long they become background noise to our daily lives. Yet is becomes less so each and every day, and to someone this message is fresh and new and ranging from mildly unsettling to deeply disturbing. Our Gospel passage today is no exception. Our Lord has two things to tell us here today.
Message One: Pointing out virtues in comparison to others’ vices is NOT a good thing.
Message Two: Being honest with God about flaws and asking for mercy IS a good thing.
Our Lord is very adept at giving us vivid images that paint a very clear picture of the Father and of the Kingdom of God. Here is no exception. Here, Jesus shows us an example of a respected member of the community, a Pharisee, whose piety and righteousness no one doubts, and then He shows us an example of a despised member of the community, a Roman IRS Agent (often referred to as a Publican)[2], whose sin and wickedness no one doubts either.
At the beginning of this tale anyone fresh to Jesus’ ministry would think, “Ah, here comes a moral lesson where we shall see the tax collector screw up, and we shall feel justified if we follow the Pharisee’s example.” Well, those who had been with Jesus a while would anticipate a twist to the story. There always was. Good Samaritans, faithful Gentiles, why not a decent Publican? Jesus does not disappoint.
First, let’s dispense with some preconceptions. We have been conditioned by our years, decades, and even centuries by the Church to be sensitive immediately to the hot air spewing from the mouth of the Pharisees, but this was not always so. In First Century Mediterranean cultures, people were used to self-aggrandizement and in some ways it was encouraged. Many attitudes on prayer included the idea that you needed to remind God of every good and pious and extra thing you’ve done to get as high a mark as possible on His post-prayer survey. Today, many find that insufferable, or at least we used to (since our culture seems to be trending in that direction again), but then it wasn’t so odd. Jesus makes it clear that God finds it insufferable, but his approach is subtle. Here he presents the facts of the story and makes no initial judgement in the telling.
Wait for it…
Let’s move on to the Publican. Here was a despised member of the community (noted for inflating tax rates and skimming the difference) who was grovelling, confessing his worthlessness, asking for God’s mercy. Many of Jesus’ listeners would probably be thinking to themselves, “Good luck with that.” Again, Jesus paints the image as a matter of fact, no embellishment.
Ready for the kicker? Here it comes:
One little sentence, “for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Seriously? Sure, he was sorry for the misery he perpetuated, and he should be, but really? A Publican? HIM? JUSTIFIED?
Jesus made no mistake, not only was the Publican justified in the eyes of God, the Pharisee was NOT. All those good works and spiritual exercises? Worthless. The Pharisee prayed, fasted, fulfilled his stewardship pledge, normally wonderful spiritual exercises, but that was all for nothing because of his attitude. He had ZERO love for his neighbor, who also was made in God’s image, tarnished though it was. He had NO knowledge of why he was avoiding vice, denying himself, or offering sacrifice. The point of these actions was not to curry favor with God, or to make the Pharisee stand out in comparison to others as a “better” person, but to help shape himself back into God’s image, and that is an image of selflessness. By showing self-absorption and no love for his neighbor, he showed God that he still didn’t get it, he still had no idea what the Kingdom was all about, he had no clue about the basic nature of God. In standing up straight and proving that while he could do the exercises, he still didn’t get their point, the Pharisee did a big spiritual face-plant on the pavement of the Temple courtyard.
The Publican on the other hand knew exactly where he stood before God. He honestly knew his faults. He honestly knew he hadn’t a leg to stand on. No matter what he did he knew he had fallen short of God’s expectation and that the only thing he could do was to throw himself on God’s mercy. The Publican knew how he actually appeared to God, and he knew that there was no way to spin this, and he confessed the ugly. The word used (uh oh, more Greek!) is not ἐλέησον[3], what we’d normally expect, but ἱλάσθητι[4], which is asking not just for mercy but for propitiation, for atonement, for a slate wiped clean, the form of the verb conveying both future and eternal senses[5], asking God to make it as if it had never happened. The Publican is expressing real regret, real shame, and a real desire to have things right with God.
The funny thing about God’s grace and mercy is that it is there for us, it always has been, but we have to ask for it and never take it for granted. It cost God a lot to provide this grace for us, but it is there for us nonetheless, freely given. So rather than slink into a corner and let the sin fester (how many of us do that?), the Publican took courage to come before God to confess and beg for mercy. That, my friends, takes faith.
In fact, this parable is the answer to the question at the end of the parable we heard last week. “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith upon the earth?”[6] The Evangelist, by putting these two parables next to each other, shows that if people are faithful to confess their sins, to ask for mercy, to repent, then yes, the Son of Man WILL find faith upon the earth. St. Augustine affirms this in one of his Letters, stating that when the Lord asks this question, he immediately launches into this parable so that some don’t “arrogantly attribute this faith to themselves.” [7]Faith is humble, faith has no pretense, faith is consistent, faith is the ultimate in trust.
When Jesus comes, will He find faith among us? Do we know the true state of our souls, separated from the Light of Light or are we blinded to our state by everything else on our résumé? Do we pray humbly and persistently for God’s mercy, richly and freely given or do we hide like Adam and Eve in the Garden, shamed by what we have become? When we come to the Rail today, when we are confronted with the Living Presence of God, when we receive the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, we cannot hide. We can either deceive ourselves (for we cannot deceive God), or we can come in faith to receive mercy. Let us recognize here that we’re all Publicans. We’ve all fallen short, we’ve all screwed up, we’re all in need of mercy. Let’s not hide our brokenness, let’s not use our good works as cosmetics to hide our cuts and blemishes and bruises (those should FOLLOW, not PRECEED). Let us come forward with our souls bared, approach Him in humility and in faith, and leave this Temple today justified.
Through the prayers of the Mother of God, Saviour save us.
[1] St. Luke 18.14
[2] Latin publicanus or public official for gathering taxes.
[3] Latin transcription eleison (e LEH ee son), “have mercy”
[4] Latin transcription (h)ilasthiti (ee LASS thee tee), “be propitious”
[5] Aorist imperative, an entreaty for an action that has no real timestamp on it.
[6] St. Luke 18.8
[7]St. Augustine, Letter 89