Pentecost 22(C) – Luke 18:9-14
So, who would you rather be like–the pharisee or the tax collector?
When I was growing up, we would go to visit my family in the Detroit area, and my aunt and uncle would play this terrible game with me. My Uncle Bob would look at me and say, “Who do you love more? Me or your Aunt Gail?” And because I was at that age where kids like to repeat what grownups say, he’d get me to repeat after him: “Aunt Gail, Boo! Uncle Bob, Yay!” And of course, then we’d go over to my Aunt Gail’s house, and she’d do the exact same thing.
It’s like Jesus is playing that game with us today. “Who do you like more in this story,” He asks. “The pharisee or the tax collector?” And because we’re good Christians, because we’ve payed attention to all of the stories Jesus tells us, we know exactly who Jesus is rooting for. “Pharisee, Boo! Tax collector, Yay!”
That’s what we’re supposed to respond. But it’s worth taking a moment to stop and make sure that this is really the way it should be. Yes, at the end of the story, Jesus does say that the tax collector was justified and the pharisee wasn’t. But the pharisees get a bad rap. They do! We Christians like to put them down, because the Gospels do, because Christians for 2,000 years have been putting them down, and maybe enough is enough.
Take a look a the pharisees; look at what they do: These are people who spent their entire lives trying to devote themselves to God. Scouring the scriptures to find out what God wanted them to do–and then doing it! I don’t know any of us who are that devoted. I wish that I were.
The pharisees were people who, if God said, “Don’t eat shellfish; don’t eat pork,” they wouldn’t even dream of a bacon-wrapped scallop. If God said, “Fasting is a good way to show your devotion, and to pray,” they would not eat two days a week to make sure they were doing it well enough. If God said, “Give ten percent of everything you have,” they gave ten percent. And I’m not talking about after taxes, and after benefits, and after your medical expense account deduction–I’m talking about ten percent of everything, counting the pennies one by one. If God said, “Keep the scriptures as close to your heard as your left hand and your right,” well, they would build little boxes and put mini Torah scrolls in them, and strap them on to their arms. And if I’m painting a picture that makes them seem foolish, that’s not my intent. It may sound like it to us. But their behavior is, well, that’s devotion. That’s devotion to God like you and I have never seen.
No, if Jesus is asking us if we want to be like the pharisee or like the tax collector–I don’t know about you, but I want to be like the pharisee! Tax collectors in the ancient world were the scum of the earth, looked down upon because they were the agents of the Romans. A government who kept on pressing down on the people, cramming them into a tighter and tighter box, taking everything they had. The tax collectors were the people who were supposed to go out and take money from the poor and give it to the government. And they didn’t even get paid for it! If they wanted to earn a living wage by their own job, they had to take more money than they were supposed to, and keep the top part for themselves. If the taxes were $40, they had to take $50, and keep $10. It meant they were stealing from the poor, and giving to the rich.
We may not know it anymore, but the people Jesus first told this story to knew what the right reaction was. It was “Tax collector, Boo! Pharisee, Yay!” And then Jesus tells us that the pharisee is the one that’s got it wrong.
What really is the difference between these two people? What really is the problem here?
I’ve heard it so many times about this passage, sermons in lots of different churches, that it’s the way that the pharisee treats the tax collector, that he looks down on him, that he announces it, praying in front of the whole temple! These were good sermons, with good messages… except the Gospel specifically tells us that the pharisee went off and “stood by himself.” No one heard this prayer but God. And the same was true for the tax collector. It wasn’t that he was humble in front of the whole congregation. No one heard his prayer but God. He looked down at the floor, looked at the shoes of his feet, like good German or Scandinavian Lutherans do. He prayed about his sin which was real. It wasn’t some false sense of humility like we do sometimes: “Oh, no, it was nothing, it’s an old family recipe, it’s not mine, it was barely any work, anyone could have done it.” It’s not that kind of humility that we’re talking about. It’s not even really humility at all that we’re talking about.
The difference between the two people isn’t that one was righteous and the other wasn’t. The difference between the two people isn’t that one prayed the right way and the other didn’t. (Because God invites us to talk to Him however we need to.) The difference between the two people is that there WAS a difference between the two people. That if we’re asked the question, “Would you rather be like the pharisee or like the tax collector,” if we have an answer to that question, we have convicted ourselves, whatever the answer is. We shouldn’t be drawing a line between the people. The conflict in this story isn’t between pharisee and the tax collector. It’s between each of those people individually and their God.
Back to my Aunt and Uncle for a moment, to help explain what I’m talking about. That game they played with me would have been a terrible game, truly a wrong thing, if we hadn’t all started out on the same page. If it weren’t for the tone of their voice, if it weren’t for the feeling behind it. They weren’t really rivals with one another–I knew that. They wanted me to know that they loved me so much that they’d fight one another for my attention, these two people who loved each other so much that there wasn’t a time they couldn’t remember being together, brother and sister, growing up in the same home, and today living with their own families just blocks away from one another.
And that’s what God is like with us! God loves us so much that He’s willing to fight for our attention, fight with the person who demands all of our attention. Ourselves. That’s the real distinction here, not that there was something between the two people in the story, but that the pharisee was so focused on what HE had done–very good things!–that he couldn’t see what God was doing for him. And so he went home righteous. His righteousness was real, he was good and holy, but–but he was the same as when he’d arrived. And he only trusted in his own righteousness, and one day, if he does even one tiny thing that might not be pleasing to God, oh, his holiness is gone, and he has no hope, nothing to rely on.
But the tax collector, in his prayer, starts by saying, “God, have mercy on me.” He knows what God is doing for him. And by being focused on God rather than himself, he opens himself up to the transformation and the love that God has to give him. And all of us.
Do you know that? Do you really know how much God loves you? Do you know the incredible mercy and blessings God has given to you? Is your response to that to look back in on yourself and congratulate yourself on the wonderful things that you have done–which you should do. We should be proud of our successes, God rejoices in them–but, we should also see that God has made them possible for us. That God loves you so much, that He will fight for you to the end.
Amen