The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost

October 28, 2001

Reading: Luke 18:9-14

I cannot read the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector without thinking of a childhood game. The playground at the elementary school I went to had a hill along the fence at the back of the property. As children we made up a very complicated game in which we captured the hill. Standing our ground we would shout that childhood chant, "I'm the king of the castle, and you're the dirty rascal." That childhood game does not seem very different to me than the prayer of the Pharisee in the gospel passage from Luke. There he is standing at the front of the synagogue. He wants everyone to see him praying. "How good and pious I am," he thinks to himself. He is wearing long robes. They make him feel very holy. They attract lots of attention. Then he begins his prayer. "God, I thank you that I am not grasping, unjust, and adulterous like the rest of humanity," he almost shouts it. Then he catches sight of that loathsome tax collector who has sneaked into the back of the synagogue. He seizes the opportunity.

"Especially I thank you that I am not like this tax collector," he says. "I fast twice a week; I pay tithes on everything I get. I do all that is required of me, and more!" He gets all hot and bothered about silly little rules that don't matter and forgets what is important.

You get the picture, don't you? Here is a person who is totally satisfied with himself. He lives a good life – upright, moral, and pious. And what's more, he knows it. He is the king of the castle, the kid who has made it to the top of the hill. Decent, law abiding, self confident, religious. A total success – at least in his own eyes!

The tax collector, on the other hand, is a rather shady character. And that is putting it mildly. He makes his living in an underhanded way. He always takes a little more taxes from people than he should. He is grasping, and unjust. The dirty rascal at the bottom of the hill! The loser! But you know, he has no false illusions. He sees himself pretty much as he is. He knows his failures, and his flaws. That is why he sneaks into the synagogue, and stands way at the back where no one will see him. He has no desire to bring attention to himself. He simply cries out to God, "God be merciful to me a sinner."

Another childhood game we used to play is "Who am I?" We have all played it in some version or another. We take on a role, act it out and everyone guesses who we are. Now comes the big question. Am I going to act out the role of the Pharisee? Or should I be the tax collector?

On the one hand, the Pharisee is a religious snob. No one really has any idea where the term comes from. Some think it may mean 'special ones'. In our own contemporary vocabulary it is far from a compliment to be called a Pharisee. Reading the parable, I do not really want to be identified with him.

But I know how easily I turn my eyes away from God! How human it is to allow our actions to become the means of gaining personal glory or power! Where is there arrogance in our society that has lead to insensitivity or even abuse? What are the voices of the Pharisee in our society today?

But the alternative also is far from appealing. The tax collector prays well and is praised by Jesus because of it. But he is a scoundrel. The Pharisee at least is faithful and pious. It is the way he prays that is wrong. So should I not identify with him rather than with the tax collector?

The fact is we need to come to terms with the unpleasant realities about ourselves, the so-called dark side of our personality. Then God can call us back to faithfulness. Nothing is more isolating than seeing oneself as better than others, or, for that matter, better than we are. As sinners we are really accepted at the throne of grace. "Not I but Christ in me," Paul reminds us. Before God, all our differences vanish. Our justification depends on God's mercy, not on our actions or how gifted we are. Most of us can accept forgiveness as a gift from God, not something we have earned or deserved. Righteousness or right relationship with God is also a gift. Both must be received with an attitude of humility and gratitude. We recognize our need, and thank God for meeting it.

But there lies another problem, for that calls for humility. Humility is not an easy task for most of us. Especially in this enlightened age when we talk of need for self-esteem, we see humility as demeaning, as detracting from our sense of self worth. But true humility is far from demeaning. St. Anthony, a monk from the fourth century, a "desert father", well known for his acts of humility and for his simple way of living, writes: "True humility impels you, not to demean yourself, but to open your heart." Humility, you see, is a matter of the heart. An inward looking attitude that allows one to know oneself.

I hate it when Jesus tells these ambiguous stories. It feels as if he is laughing at me, teasing me. So perhaps after all it is better to admit that I have something of both the tax collector and the Pharisee in me. At the same time I stand with the Pharisee in front of the temple and with the tax collector in the back. What a story! And Jesus is the laughing third one! The one I really want to be like!