In today’s Gospel we hear a classic Wisdom literature motif- two ways, two attitudes. The wise person must
choose rightly between the two. It seems clear, perhaps too obvious, which way
Jesus is inviting us to follow, for this morning’s parable is pointedly addressed “to those who were
convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.” It’s
sharp. And our first reaction may be to deny that we would ever think that way.
And so right from the get-go, we run the risk of falling into the very
judgmental, I-know-better attitude that the parable warns against. We’re caught
short. We’ve been set up. The parable’s already working. We must pay close
attention to Jesus and see where he takes us. The territory may not be as
familiar as we supposed.
First there is a Pharisee, he has come
to the temple to present his credentials to God; he does not pray to God,
he stands tall and prays, literally- “toward himself.” And even after years of
hearing this passage, it still can make us cringe. “I fast, I pray, I...” Maybe
he simply should have dropped off his resume, left it at the altar and
continued on to his day job. This very good man, who clearly has gone beyond
the basic regulations of the Law in his religious regimen, has come to the
Temple to remind God about all he has accomplished. Certainly, God is well
aware of his goodness and faithfulness. But he wants to make sure.
Most embarrassing of all, he compares himself with
a tax-collector, who is clearly no match for his holiness. The Pharisee is convinced he’s
doing better than others, for he has
fasted and tithed himself into a dither. But in the process, he has blocked off
the possibility of receiving God’s mercy; he doesn’t need it, he’ll redeem
himself. Perhaps, this is what makes Jesus so frustrated. Jesus does not
demonize the Pharisee; he bewails his foolishness. The man is clearly under a
lot of pressure to perform well, and there’s one thing he’s sure of- he doesn’t
need anyone’s help, not even God’s.
The tax collector on the other hand is
disarmingly honest, vulnerable. His prayer is more literally translated, “Be
merciful to me the sinner.” He recognizes himself as the very
essence of sinfulness. (William Barclay). His humility disarms us; and it
probably disarms God. This man comes to beg for mercy without a hint of
illusion about who he is. Unlike the Pharisee, he knows he’s got nothing to
recommend himself to God. Tax collectors were among the most despised of Jews
in Jesus’ day, for they extorted money from their own people. When they
collected taxes for Rome, they would usually collect more than a little extra
for themselves; it was how the system worked. What is worse, they were in
cahoots with the Romans, those Gentile intruders who were hated for their
domination. Tax collectors were looked upon as the worst of sinners, akin to
prostitutes. They were smarmy low-life, and they knew it. They made a decent
living, had nice homes; they ate the best food, their wives probably dressed
well, but the price they paid was high. They were shunned; they could only hang
out with other sleazy tax collectors. (See www.bible-history.com.)
But this morning we witness this man’s
conversion; he comes to beg forgiveness. And
Jesus
tells us this tax collector will go home justified, acquitted of
his sins, because he has had a change of heart and has come to beg for
mercy. It’s just as Sirach said
in the First Reading: the prayer of the lowly one always “pierces the
clouds.” And Jesus
will assure us that even now there is rejoicing in heaven over the return of
one such sinner. We too must rejoice for in Christ Jesus, God is continually reconciling
the whole world to himself, bringing us all back to God, if we will allow
him. He very much wants to mercy us; it’s why he’s come.
I need have no illusions about who I
am. Why bother? Jesus desires open hearts that he can mercy and unburden. The
foolish Pharisee is waiting outside; he thinks he’s not like those sinners in
there. And like that stubborn older brother in another parable, he’s reminding
God, “I slaved for you all these years. I’ve fasted; I’ve tithed. I’m not
greedy, or adulterous.” But Jesus has come to remind us that with him, we are
not slaves but beloved children of his Father. He begs us to come into the
feast, “All I have is yours,” he says, “all this mercy, all that I am.” A very
lavish banquet has been prepared for us; our ticket in is our sinfulness, the
Bridegroom is at the door to bring us in. He doesn’t want our merit but our
hunger. Why do we hesitate?
Photograph by Brother Brian.
