Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The 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. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' But 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!' I 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."
Sermon by the Rev. Carole Horton-Howe
I’ve had the opportunity to go to the holocaust museum in Los Angeles a couple times. It’s currently closed, under renovation. I hope when it reopens next summer that they still have the area where you can watch film interviews of survivors of the Holocaust. When you purchased your entrance ticket, they gave you a card with the photo of someone, their name, where they were from and in which camp they were imprisoned. You carried this card, this person with you, throughout your visit. And towards the end of the displays, you had the opportunity to learn what happened to this person. Did they survive? Or if they did not, when they died.
The last time I was there, I learned that my person had somehow managed to survive internment at Auschwitz even though he was just a boy. And I got to listen to an interview with him. The boy realized after he arrived that an older man from his hometown, a man who was a pillar of his community, was also there. He would often try to share his food, share what he had with this older man although he would never actually let him do that.
And he noticed, day after day, most of the folks in the camp tried to find time to find time to pray. He noticed that this gentleman was praying throughout the day. So he was curious about that and tried to pay attention to what he was saying. He realized that this man was praying prayers of thanksgiving throughout the day. At Auschwitz. He wasn’t sure what to make of this, being so young.
One day when they were alone he asked him, ‘’Why do you pray when it’s not time for us to pray? And why are you praying prayers of thanksgiving when we’re here? Look around us. Why on earth would you pray any prayers of thanksgiving when by the end of the day more of us will be gone?” The older man hesitated a moment before he spoke. And slowly he said to him, “I am thanking God that I am not one of the murderous creatures that is holding us here.”
Those words lived on with the boy who managed to survive Auschwitz and became a rabbi, although he was well into old age when the recording was made. But the words stuck with me too. Because it reminded me of just how quickly our fortunes can turn. That even when we’re imprisoned, even when our lives and way of living are being threatened, even when we don’t know what’s coming at us next, we still may have a sense that we are better than someone else. Because at least we’re not doing what they’re doing.
When I heard that interview, it reminded me of this gospel lesson. “Thank goodness I’m not him.” So says the Pharisee. Who has gone to the temple to pray. “I am the pillar of my community. Thank goodness I’m not that guy - because there’s always someone I don’t want to be. Thank goodness I’m not him – not a thief, a rogue. Really thank goodness I’m not that tax collector guy. I tithe. I fast, I do everything I’m supposed to do. Thank God I’m not someone else.
Another man comes to that temple that day to pray, too. And he’s a tax collector. Quick note on the tax collectors in the ancient world: these were not anyone’s favorite people to spend time with. He is a Jew, he’s come to the temple. He’s a Jew who collects taxes on behalf of the Roman empire. So he’s probably nobody’s best friend. Because the reputation of tax collectors have is that they cheat people – their own people, other Jews – to make their living. They added a generous amount for themselves on top of the taxes that they’re collecting for Rome. So they grew rich out of the misery and deprivation of other Jews.
We’re told that the Pharisee stands apart from everyone. We have this sense that everyone around him is immediately concerned about whether they’re good enough to be in his presence. He’s some kind of spiritual rock star. He’s just so upright and righteous.
And in comes this tax collector who, no doubt, knows that that no one is happy to see him there. So without a sense of confidence, without that sense of self-righteousness, he’s not even able to look up. He, too, stands away also, out of his own sense of shame. He stands apart. And the only words that he can muster up are “have mercy on a sinner like me. I know I don’t have any friends here. Have mercy on a sinner like me.”
And so we’re told that our lesson from all this is to remember to humble ourselves. There’s a lot to take in here: because yes, that big lesson is that we are all so dependent on God. And just as this tax collector realizes, “I must be dependent on God because I really have nowhere else to go.” But the Pharisee hasn’t quite yet figured out his need to be dependent on God. He’s depending on himself and his reputation and his all of his good works. He cannot see and name his dependence on God.
Two thousand years later this parable still speaks to us about a lot of things: it still speaks to us about our incredible need for God. And if at any moment we think we can replace our need for God with our own sense of self-sufficiency then we are setting ourselves up for a lot of pain. Because it is only by God and with God and through God that we can do the work Jesus left us to do on this earth. ‘
And equally important to that message is the message that we need one another. We need to be able to count on the love of one another to support us and uphold us in even the most difficult time. We are not made to be silos.
We forget that. We forget to support one another. We forget the grace of humility. Humility seems like an increasingly rare trait these days and a difficult characteristic to emulate. But what is it? What does it mean to be humble? Humility is the act of being modest, reverential, even politely submissive. It is the opposite of aggression, arrogance, pride, and vanity.
On the surface, it appears to have a sort of wimpy quality that is devoid of power. But on the contrary, it grants enormous power because it gives greater connection to God. It offers complete freedom from the desire to impress, to be right, or get ahead at someone else’s expense. Frustrations and losses have less impact, and a humble person confidently receives the opportunity to grow, improve, and reject society‘s labels. A humble life results in contentment, patience, forgiveness, and compassion – all gifts to us from God.
At some point in our lives, we’ve probably been both of these characters, haven’t we? Haven’t there been moments when we’ve probably been the very self-righteous Pharisee? “Look at me -- at least I’m not him. Everything is good because I’m not him.” At some moment in our lives we’ve occupied that space of the tax collector. When we’ve been so beaten down and beaten up by the world. And we’ve lost that sense of whose we are. The only words we can even begin to muster are “Lord have mercy on me a sinner.” Because we feel so distant from divine love and so unworthy.
We’ve all probably occupied both those roles – the one who condemns and the one who has been condemned. The one who has isolated himself, the one who has been forgotten. The one who has been pushed aside, the one who has puffed himself up. We’ve probably at some point in our lives occupied both those roles.
And yet God still speaks to us through these words to remind us that we need God and we need one another. And perhaps even more importantly, in our world today, when we come up with all these ways that we divide ourselves and align ourselves and forgot completely that in community we love, in community we serve, in community we are God’s hands and hearts in the world.
So today this parable comes back to remind us we should never be standing apart, we should never be alone. We must not give credit where credit is not due. We are called to remember our need for God and remember our need for one another as God’s created beings. Because when we remember to come together with humility as our guiding star, we are able to do more than we could ever do apart. We are able to move all the mountains that God needs us to move. God is constantly inviting us back into love where we can find the outpouring of God’s grace and mercy, more than enough for all. Amen.