Luke 18:9-14
9He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ 13But 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!’ 14I 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.”
We are in our fourth week of the preaching series called ‘Living Your Faith Story.’
Each of us gathered here has a winding, twisting series of waypoints that we have arrived at over the course of many years. Some of those sections of the journey we have walked alongside mentors and teachers (grandparents that have taught us the essentials of the faith or parents that have modeled what generosity and compassion look like in small acts). At other times, sections of the journey have been slow going for we have rolled an ankle in a deep hole and the pain of every step forward made walking agonizing.
No particular path in faith is right or wrong-but all of them are unique. I have seen that some find the walking easy going like a stroll on a sunny spring day. Others find it much more difficult like placing your foot firmly in wet sand only for it shift under your weight-unable to find a center point that will hold. Or maybe even like placing your foot in river mud so thick it’ll suck your shoe right off your foot and you wonder whether it’s worth trying to walk forward at all.
I have heard stories of despair and depression cultivated by years of bad preaching, hateful Christian witness, toxic theology, and a view of one’s self that was far less than what God envisioned. That makes for hard walking. I have seen stories lived out where families, faced with the worst news or unimaginable loss, find the hope and grace of Jesus Christ and the compassion of the faith community to be recognizable waypoints as they walk together. I have listened to the frustration of young adults who simply cannot reconcile the venomous witness and harm offered in the name of Jesus Christ with the Jesus they know that makes a place at the table for everyone.
Each and every waypoint in your life of faith, whether for good or for ill, has brought you to this point and place. To your left and right, your brothers and sisters, could tell you of the challenges and joys of taking a different route. Rarely, if ever, is the making of our faith story a direct path from point A to B-more often it is like wandering, getting lost, yearning for something recognizable, and then stumbling back onto a well worn path or hearing your name called out by friends who are searching for you.
I want you to tell your stories to another-how has the grace of God led you this far? Where were the hard stretches, the parts where sun warmed your face, and the parts where you sat down to rest? What is the story of your life walking with God?
I want to tell you a bit of mine-there was not much that was terribly notable about growing up as a suburban kid in Richmond, Virginia. School. Friends. Family. Church. When I was about 12 years old, the late Reverend Bill Mahon invited me to offer some words to the church about my love for God and what the faith community meant to me. It was like a door opening-I’d later name that point and the subsequent weeks, months, and years as my call to ministry. I began sensing, through the wisdom and insights of those around me, that my particular gifts and graces were matched for ordained ministry in the church. I was fairly certain as a teenager what the grace of God was calling and leading me toward.
I don’t remember but I’m sure middle school was awkward. In high school, my home church hired a full-time youth director which was a significant change from a volunteer led ministry. I couldn’t get enough-leading in a new worship opportunity, new mission opportunities, weekly Bible study. I was like a sponge being immersed in water for the first time. I began cultivating what we call spiritual disciplines-prayer, studying scripture, receiving communion regularly like we do each week here, and serving in ministries of compassion. After a year our youth pastor took a new job, his dream job. It was like a tailspin for me-quite disillusioned with the way that church members were infighting and making disparaging comments about the pastor who had helped my faith in Jesus the Christ come alive. I bid that church farewell and church hopped with friends from school. Baptist. Presbyterian. Catholic. Lutheran. Non denominational.
About that same time there was a controversy at hand with the United Methodist Church, both at General Conference (the quadrennial global meeting for decision making) and with the United Methodist bishop in Virginia. Both pertained to human sexuality, particularly the church’s ministry with gay and lesbian persons. Looking back, I would call that period ‘self righteous bigotry.’ Or to put it another way, I thought way too highly of myself and far less of others, and my Christianity did not help the matter. It was a long road to make it back.
Two men go up to the temple in Jerusalem to pray as was customary. A religious official gives thanks to God in a moment of prayer that he is not like all of the morally despicable people that he knows. A second man, identified as a tax collector whose participation in 1st century economic collusion with Rome meant he was probably robbing people, is off in the corner of the temple courtyard praying a much different prayer. ‘Lord have mercy on me.’
Which one of the two men leaves the temple in right relationship with God?
That’s no trick question. Jesus tells us flat out that the second man, the tax collector, who could not even bring himself to look skyward toward heaven is the one that went home justified, made right with God. Implicitly, the first man, the Pharisee, is left in the same condition of heart and soul as when he came up to the temple mount. He is self righteous, holy in his own eyes, and out of love with his neighbors.
I think there is more to this parable than just a warning against the perils of arrogance and an exhortation for us to be humble in all of our daily dealings.
The Pharisee’s heart condition opens a window into the way in which religious practice can distort a healthy relationship with God. When the Pharisee enters the temple, which had multiple courtyards to accommodate persons based upon their standing and identity, he stands by himself to maintain ritual purity. Already he has isolated himself from his gentile neighbors and then when he begins to speak, he does so with contempt toward the tax collector.
When it comes to the commands of the Torah and Mosaic Law, the Pharisee is dotting his i’s and crossing his t’s. This is the guy at the top of the class, working toward extra credit to demonstrate self worth and acquire praise. In the church, we call that supererogation-going above and beyond the instructions to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. But no matter how holy he attempts to be on his own volition, nothing improves his standing before God. There is nothing that the Pharisee can do to earn, purchase, acquire, or bargain to make God love him anymore. His invitation to have life with God is no different than the tax collector whom he has such disgust for
Life with God is a gift that we get to receive and respond to. It’s not limited just to a select few who make the cut for outstanding religious practices or outstanding moral living. Life with God is an invitation for everyone.
The Pharisee is holy in his own eyes but cut off from living in relationship with his brothers and sisters. It’s almost as if he is prepared to seal himself off in isolation, or at least with other like minded self righteous religious practitioners, so as to keep out the encroachment of the world’s dark shadows.
It’s clear he would rather stand proud in his religious fervor and practice than have compassion and mercy with a neighbor. He’s missing the fullness of life with God because he has contempt for a neighbor. Contempt for a neighbor that he may or may not know. In fact, he lumps thieves, rogues, adulterers, and tax collectors together all in the same batch. There’s no shortage of self righteousness paired with a hardened heart in the Pharisee’s life. For him, there’s plenty of looking down on others to go around.
As soon as we find ourselves thinking or speaking like the Pharisee justifying moral, religious, and spiritual high ground above another individual or group of folks, it’s time to revisit this parable. Countless times I have heard folks of varying ages recall encounters in which a high and holy Christian pronounced some sort of God’s judgment on them or a family member for something they did. ‘You’re going to hell for fill in the blank.’ This is the highest level of self-righteousness and pride-to speak on God’s behalf with a distorted message. And this is a rife form of Christianity if you can call it that at all. It can take a lifetime for someone to dig out from under the shame, guilt, and self-hate that is piled on by another’s self righteous religious practice.
Our Wesleyan, United Methodist tradition, has historically sought to spread holiness in the name of Jesus the Christ. The church’s efforts to end child labor in the early 1900’s and diminish the destructive forces of alcoholism were born from this holiness tradition. It’s been a movement to invite others into deeper loving relationships with God and neighbor. Growing in the fullness of the image of God or holiness is not divorced from ministry with neighbors. If efforts to live, act, and reflect Jesus to the world turn to contempt and disgust for neighbors because of who they are or what their story is, then the mark has been missed.
It’s not for us to be at the front of the crowd determining who gets access to Jesus and it’s not ours to determine whose life is made right through the grace of Jesus Christ. I mean, who on God’s green earth thinks so highly of themselves and their faith life that they can speak terribly ill of another’s faith journey? That self-righteousness is counterproductive to a healthy life of faith.
As we make the road by walking together, we will continue to weave parts of our stories into a textured tapestry. Some of our stories are echoes of the Pharisee and other stories resound like the tax collector’s plea for mercy. As we weave our stories, let us walk with care and compassion so that no one ever thinks to say of our life together: ‘I felt like they looked down at me when I visited.’
Bless you in the name of the Almighty, Son, and Spirit. Amen.