As a reminder, in those times, the Pharisees were well-respected,
devout Jews who loved God and lived Godly lives. Tax collectors were way worse than today’s
IRS employees. Tax collectors were Jews
who’d been hired by the Romans to collect taxes. The Roman Empire didn’t care
how much the collectors took, as long as Rome got its share. As a result, tax collectors charged much more
than needed, and pocketed the difference.
They were considered traitors by the Jews, and particularly the
religious Pharisees who worked so hard to maintain a God-centric Jewish
identity, despite the Godless Roman Occupation.
The Pharisee was doing everything right. The Pharisee is at the temple praying. I tithe, I pray, I fast. There’s nothing
wrong with his actions. He continues, Thank you God. Thank you that I’m not
like the rogues, thieves or that tax collector.
And although our jaded ears hear the negative that, we’ve probably all
offered a similar prayer. Thank you
God. Thank you that I’m not like that homeless person. Thank you that I don’t
have a crazy sibling, Thank you that I have a house, a nice house compared to
them. Thank you that my kids don’t behave like their kids.
On the other hand, the tax collector wasn’t doing anything
right. He was a traitor to his people,
he was a thief, he didn’t even have the correct prayer stance for the time, and
the story tells us he stood far off, as if he knew he wasn’t worthy. His prayer, a simple, “Be merciful to me, a sinner.
“
The hearers of this story would
have expected one to be justified, and one not, but they would have been
surprised at which one was justified.
They would have assumed it was the Pharisee, because they were part of
the system that judged – judged the Pharisee as good, and the tax collector as
bad. But Jesus again throws in a
surprise ending, with the tax collector leaving justified, as if he got a reward
that rightfully belonged to the Pharisee.
But actually, they both left with what they’d sought. The prayer of the Pharisee was more like a
book report or status update. I’ve done
this, and this, and this. Thanks. The Pharisee left with what he’d sought from
God, which was – nothing. The tax
collector, on the other hand, asked for mercy, and left justified.
What does this mean? It doesn't mean that one man was better than the other, because of who he was or what he'd done. To think this would be to swap one judgmental error for
another. The Pharisee was not better
than the tax collector, as he perceived.
We need to be careful not to turn this into an equally incorrect
judgement. The tax collector is better than the Pharisee. No one is better. No one is more loved.
It doesn't mean that one man was justified because he was repentant. This story doesn’t even tell us that one man is justified
because he was repentant. We’d sure like
to think that. We’d like to fill in rest
of the story. The tax collector left
justified, and quit his evil ways, never took more than was owed, and even paid
people back. But in fact, it doesn’t say that. Because it’s not his permanent
change of heart that made him justified.
This is why I’m not a social worker.
I have a social work degree, and my senior year at the ripe
age of 20, I was an intern serving as a case manager in an Illinois
prison. I had a caseload of 50 inmates,
who’d arrange to come see me, their case manager, every 2 weeks. I really tried to help them.
I had one gentlemen who came in with another inmate. They weren’t supposed to come in my office
with two, for my safety. But they
did. It turns out, Joe was deaf, and his
buddy interpreted for him. But they used a funky made up sign language which I
spotted because I knew American Sign Language.
They had connected in prison, and never learned real sign language. I
offered to teach them. After my book was
scanned to assure it had no contraband, I set up a schedule and started
teaching both of them, so they’d be able to communicate with the rest of the
world upon their release. Months after
my internship ended, I ran into the other case manager. He asked if I knew that
Joe really wasn’t deaf. It turns out, at
one point in his transferring between prisons in Illinois, he arrived much
sooner than his file, and he donned a deaf persona. When his file finally made it, some well
intentioned staff person noted in his file that he was deaf, because he’d been
there for weeks, deaf. All of a sudden,
Joe was deaf. But not really. They did this because it got the two of them
special considerations. No yelling guards, always have a buddy with you.
It was about that time, that I realized that I don’t have it
in me to be that magnanimous in that job.
I realized I could get easily burned out, because the people I was
trying to fix, were not always going to meet me half way. They may never
repent. And I wanted them to.
And I still do, to some extent. It’s human nature. We wonder if the pan handler will use the
money for good or ill. We wonder if the
sex workers served by Rahab’s Sisters even want to get of the life. But the truth is, it doesn’t matter in God’s
eyes, and I don’t want to be that judgmental.
I don’t want to create strings for good works.
God's love and mercy extends to us all if we ask, regardless of what we have done, will do, have been, or will be. It's all because of God's nature, and Jesus Christ's sacrifice for us. Today’s Gospel teaches us that it does not matter, what good
things the Pharisee had done, what bad things the tax collector had done, what
attitude either of them had towards their future. What matters is God’s nature,
God’s grace, God’s love.
There’s a contemporary Christian song by the band Mercy Me,
with a refrain about God’s love that says it’s “Not because of what I’ve done
but who you are. Not because of who I am
but what you’ve done. “
It’s not about me.
It’s not about the tax collector or the Pharisee or repentance. It’s about God’s love.
And that’s really really hard to remember. It’s hard to remember when things are going
really well – that our good works are the cause of God’s grace. It’s hard to remember when things are going
really badly – that our bad works could somehow equate to a lack of love and
grace from God. It is always about God’s
grace and love. We need tools to
remember it.
The tax collector provides a basis for the Jesus Prayer. "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a
sinner."
This is a brief, but powerful prayer. It includes several
types of prayer all wrapped up. It’s got
adoration, praising and adoring Jesus the Lord and Son of God. It’s got confession, admitting I’m a sinner,
and it has a petition of God to have mercy on me. For me, it’s great because it’s short, and I
can memorize it, and as a result, will never be without a prayer on my
lips.
The Jesus Prayer is the center of
the book, The Way of the Pilgrim, by an anonymous Russian writer. In the book, the pilgrim meets a religious
teacher who encourages him to pray as follows:
“Sit down in silence. Lower your
head, shut your eyes, breathe out gently, and imagine yourself looking into
your own heart. Carry your mind, that is, your thoughts, from your head to your
heart. As you breathe out, say, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on
me." Say it moving your lips gently, or simply say it in your mind. Try to
put all other thoughts aside. Be calm, be patient, and repeat the process very
frequently.” And so he does, thousands
of time per day.
The Jesus Prayer is not a magical
incantation, but a way to quickly, simply put God back in the center. And when
we put God back in the center of our world, of our very breath, we can find peace
with ourselves, and with the world around us.
Nineteenth century holy man Serafim of Sarov observed, “have peace in
your heart and thousands around you will be saved”.
In the New Church’s Teaching Series
book, The Practice of Prayer by Margaret Guenther, the author talks about how
uses this prayer to accompany her manual labor, turning drudgery into a time of
connection with God. One of her favorite times to pray at labor involves
cutting wood. She will size up old logs,
and estimate how many times she can pray the Jesus Prayer for a particular log.
Then she prays her way through.
The Jesus Prayer doesn’t solve all problems. But it’s
succinct, easy to remember, and most relevant to today’s reading, it keeps the
focus on God and God’s love and mercy,
not on us and our wins or losses. It
reminds us of God’s unconditional love, and moves us away from the conditional
love we are so good at. I can get behind
the tax collector, if he really is a changed man. I can help the homeless if they help
themselves. It’s tough. It’s impossible without God. But by keeping
God’s unconditional and unearned grace always on our lips, we can say, I will,
with God’s help.
