Luke 18: 9-14
What can you do in Jasper that you can not do in Tyler? What can you absolutely not do in Borden but can do --- but just a little --- in its neighbor Scurry?[1] All of these are counties in Texas, but some are “dry,” others are “wet,” while some others are termed “moist.”
What am I talking about? As you probably know, a dry county is one where local residents have voted to forbid the sale of alcoholic beverages in some form whereas a wet county allows the sale of alcohol. But even that varies, "Move from Fort Worth to Arlington” wrote the newspaper Fort Worth Star Telegram, “and you’ll be surprised that you can buy beer but not wine at the grocery store. Move to Grand Prairie and you can’t even find beer there, but you can buy alcoholic drinks at restaurants in both towns. Then move to Burleson, which has alcohol sales in the Tarrant County portion of the city but not in the Johnson County side of town.”[2]
This spectrum of wet, dry and moist counties is not unique to Texas because there are hundreds of counties across the United States that, following the repeal of national Prohibition in 1933, followed what was called the “local option” meaning that local governments could enact laws to support prohibition.
Why do I bring that up? Because I think many of us view today’s parable as a discussion on wet, moist or dry Christians. In our gospel, Jesus shares a parable that revolves around two men. Both men go up to the temple in Jerusalem to pray, one a Pharisee and one a tax collector.[3] The natural assumption made by anyone hearing this story at the time of Jesus is that the Pharisee is the devout person. The tax collector, on the other hand, is the sinner.
Sure enough, in the parable, the Pharisee steps away from the crowd and moves toward the center of the temple to highlight his purity before God, and launches into a list of all his religious accomplishments: “The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’”[4] We get the sense from his parable, that this Pharisee tries to do everything right, according to the standards of the day, obeying all the religious rules. In terms of keeping God’s commandments, he is way above average.
Then Jesus tells us about another man. A tax collector does just the opposite, steps away from the center, moves to the margins, bows his head and beats his breast. “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’”[5] He is so ashamed that he cannot even raise his hands and look up to heaven, which is the standard position for first-century prayer. The tax collector doesn’t make any boasts or excuses --- he simply asks for God’s mercy.
There is no reason to assume that this tax collector is a particularly spectacular sinner. It is much more likely that he is confessing a set of secret, hidden faults --- possibly a collection of oversights, errors and miscalculations that only he would know.
Well, at this point we could jump centuries and all be saying to ourselves, oh boy, time to have fun; time to slam the religious, the pious, the well-intended, the legalistic, the conservative, the liberals and make fun of them as hypocrites.
But if we did that we would miss the point, for while it is tempting to criticize those further to the “right or left” from where we are, we would only be engaged in scapegoating. The Pharisee knew right from wrong. He tried to choose the right and condemned those who chose the wrong. He was trying to be on the side of God and sought God’s ways.
Well does that place us in the camp of the Tax Collector? The prayer of the tax collector is well known --- he seeks forgiveness --- something we all seek. The tax collector is not expressing some poor old ‘woe is me’ syndrome; he simply and honestly acknowledges how he acts. He sins therefore he is a sinner in need of mercy and healing.
So what happened? Don’t we end up acting like the Pharisee by hoping we are like the Tax Collector? Isn’t the clear lesson that we should be like the tax collector and not the Pharisee? “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”[6]
But there is a danger in this parable. The danger is that as soon as we hold the Pharisee and the tax collector up for examination as models of faith, as soon as we come to a conclusion about which of these truly has the faith to emulate, we begin to ---- pass judgment. You see what I mean? Jesus told a parable with a double bind. If we take the parable seriously, the worst possible outcome for us is to say, “Thank God. Thank God: we’re not like the Pharisee.” But if we do that, then we are at the same time … exactly like the person we do not want to be.
It is kind of like the dry and wet counties. On one hand we know alcohol is a problem, so ban the stuff. Thank God my children can’t get out and buy the stuff and we are keeping the homeless drunks out of the county. But, on the other hand, we want a bottle of wine for Thanksgiving, so we get in the car and drive to the next county to buy a bottle. Then what happens? While we are in the liquor store we see some of our neighbors, so we secretly hide behind the liquor aisle so they don’t see us. So which are we, dry, moist, or wet?
Jesus is not interested in our comparing ourselves with the Pharisee or the tax collector or anyone else. Rather, Jesus is interested in everyone being humbly open before God and so being open to discovering what is of true and ultimate worth. But the process to do this comes about if we understand God’s judgment in a healthy way.
I think we stumble over God’s judgment. The judgment of God can be a gift because it can be a window into how our life can be and how our life has not been all that it could have been. Under God’s judgment we are drawn to salvation and to trust in the merciful God who has been revealed in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is a trust that God is not violent, retributive or retaliatory. It is faith that God who has created us treats us with a justice that is higher than any human justice we may conceive. In his letter to the Romans, the apostle Paul reminds us:
“You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God's judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God's judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?”[7]
It is kind of like, after we pass a terrible accident on the highway, we might say, “Thank God: it wasn’t me.” On hearing of some misfortune, injury, death, we might be tempted to say: “Thank God, it wasn’t my family.” But if we think about it that is the same thing as saying, “Thank God, it was them, thank God it was their family.” This parable is a warning, telling us that our focus should not be on our own excellence or our own level of humility, but must first begin on God’s unfathomable, immeasurable generosity.
The truth is, we are both Pharisee and tax collector, or as Martin Luther put it, both saint and sinner together. We owe God our best efforts and our undivided loyalty, as well as our dependence upon him for grace and forgiveness all those times we fall short.
Let me finish with a story. Perhaps you have heard the story of the man who came to the gates of heaven to be greeted by St. Peter. Peter asks the man if he can give a brief history of his life with an emphasis on the good deeds because “You will need 1,000 points to be admitted,” Peter tells the man. “This will be a cinch,” the man thinks to himself, “I’ve been involved in church from the days of my youth.” Then he begins to list his activities for Peter. He was active in his church youth group, served in every possible position he could as a youngster. Was on the church council and every committee the church had to offer. His list was extensive.
“Very impressive,” Peter smiles at the man. An angel standing with them also smiled and nodded as he tallied the points and then whispered in Peter’s ear. Peter tells the man, “This is quite striking; we seldom see people like. You will be pleased to know that you have 327 points! Is there anything else you can think of?”
Well the guy breaks into a cold sweat and begins to reach deep for every single act of kindness he could think of. He listed them as the angel scratched furiously on his angelic clipboard. Peter looks at the clipboard and says, “This is quite exceptional! You now have a total of 402 points. Can you think of anything else?”
The distressed guy strives to think about his life, like the time he helped a little old lady across the street. He finally arrives at a grand total of 431 points and cries out, “I’m sunk! There’s no hope for me! What more could I have done? O Lord, all I can do is beg for your mercy!” “THAT,” exclaims St. Peter, “is a thousand points!”
May we trust in being “wet” in baptism --- forgiven, and loved. May we be wet all the time and humbly respond in forgiveness and love to all those around us. Amen
Hi Pastor C,
I read through a few of your recent sermons. You always have such a great message. We miss you all. I will be praying that you can find a ministry that matches all your gifts. I am sure God does not them to go to waste. Enjoy your between call free time.
Peace,
Byron
Posted by: Byron Peterson | 26 October 2010 at 09:27 AM
Byron,
Thanks for your kind words! I cannot express how much I miss Meito Christ International Church and all of you. I am looking forward to finding a place for my gifts; keep us in your prayers.
C
Posted by: Charles Fredrickson | 26 October 2010 at 09:41 AM