The Other Ones

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus also 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.” Amen.

The approach to the Western Wall in Jerusalem seemed to me somewhat anti-climactic. Claire and I took a trip to the Middle East in 2010, and we spent a few days in Jerusalem. I had gone with our group to the wall earlier in our trip. But Claire had been sick that day. She desperately wanted to see the Western Wall. So, once she was feeling better, she and I decided to go back for a visit.

So here are Claire and I set off through one of the most holy cities in the world for three of the world’s largest religions. We approached the wall from the old City of David, through these incredibly narrow streets. Vendors are set up on either side of the walkway, selling everything from pashmina scarves to hookahs to ancient relics. 

As we came upon the remnants of the Western Wall, we were amazed. The streets opened up into this amazing courtyard where thousands of people were gathered. And it’s kind of a strange moment, because usually when this many people are gathered to pray you expect there to be this huge focal point, like Saint Peter’s Basilica, or the Kabaa in Mecca. But the focal point in this holy place is a crumbling wall.

The Western Wall, or the Wailing Wall, stands on the western side of the temple mount in Jerusalem. The western wall of the complex has become a sacred place for Jews, not because it was built as such, but rather because it is the last reminder of the temple of Solomon that still stands. People gather outside of the temple mount praying at the outside of this wall.

I was fascinated with the extreme age of the wall, the history behind it, the wonder and the terror that surrounded that place. But the thing which caught my attention the most was the people who were there praying. Hundreds of people were gathered staring at the wall, or with their heads and hands pressed against the wall, or rocking back and forth in a heightened state of prayer. I will never forget the iconic image I saw in that place of an Israeli soldier standing with his face and hands pressed against the wall and a semi-automatic weapon hung across his back.

All of these people, religious leaders, tourists, soldiers, gather at this place to pray. They make pilgrimages from across the world to pray in this spot, to write out their hopes and dreams and push them into the dusty cracks of the ancient structure, to seek the guidance of the Lord.

This image of prayer will be forever embedded in my mind, because of the desperation that could be felt in such a place, the desperation for some sign of the presence of God for a distraught and lost community.

The two men in our story make their way to the temple in a very similar way. They come to pray to the Lord, and both men separate themselves from the mass of people.

But this is where the stories of the two characters diverge a little bit.

The Pharisees of the time were not intrinsically bad people. In fact, as this particular Pharisee points out, they were in tune with the law of God and they lived lives that reflected this. They fasted, they gave to the poor, they even tried to make religious life accessible to all people.

The character that would typically be the “bad guy,” is, of course, the tax collector. This would be the character that Jesus’ audience would have easily despised. The one that received the least respect. We can see that this would be the location of the role reversal that we expect to happen in Luke’s gospel.

In trying to think of a modern equivalent of the tax collector, I was thinking about my wife Claire’s favorite movie: Gone With the Wind. For those of you who may not be familiar with the story, it follows the life of Scarlett O’Hara, a southern Belle, through the course of the Civil War and after. The movie is like a solid 15 or 20 hours long, or at least it feels that way. I really do like the movie. The role of the tax collector in Palestine reminded me of carpetbaggers.

Carpetbaggers were Northerners and some Southerners who came to the south after the Civil War and took advantage of the state of desperation they found. They were called carpetbaggers because they carried carpet bags. They charged land owners heavy taxes, and then took their plantations. They exploited the people in the name of what felt like a foreign government while benefitting heavily in the profits they collected. They were despised in the south for their lack of compassion.

The tax collectors of Jesus’ time were of a similar breed. They were often local people who collected taxes for the Roman empire. They were allowed to keep whatever extra money that the empire did not require. It was easy for them to exploit their position, demanding lots of extra taxes which they would then pocket.

So these two somewhat familiar characters gather at the same place and offer up their very different prayers to the Lord. They both start their prayer with, “God…” but the Pharisee launches into the first person. He describes all his wonderful deeds and how righteous he is. Picture this Pharisee with his head turned toward God, his arms and hands raised up, thanking God for his righteousness. He stands alone because he is cleaner than the tainted folk that gather around him. To be frank, it is all about him.

Now picture the tax collector, kneeling on the ground, alone because he does not believe he is worthy to occupy this space with the others. He beats his chest with his hand in sorrow and repentance. The reason his prayer is so short yet powerful is because we know he is telling the truth. He really has sinned. He really is corrupt.

The two men leave the temple and we know which one has left with God’s favor. As they walk away we watch them go saying to ourselves, “I am so glad I know better than that Pharisee! I’m so glad my prayers don’t sound like his…”

And then Jesus says, “Gotca!” See we knew when the parable started that the Pharisee was going to get in trouble. We just didn’t realize how easy it was going to be for us to be the Pharisee!

See this parable is like that thing that we have all done at one time or another. You walk into a bathroom or a room with two mirrors that face each other. And you see your reflection in one mirror, and then you move a little bit one way or the other and you can see your reflection in the first mirror through the reflection of the second mirror. And then you can see your reflection in the first mirror as the second mirror is reflecting the reflection of the first mirror! And then you see…just kidding.

As soon as we hear the description of the Pharisee we want to distance ourselves from such behavior, so we think about how we’re like the tax collector, and then we smoothly slip into the role of the Pharisee again. As soon as we arrive at an appropriate level of humility, we immediately take pride in our accomplishment, and then we’re back to the beginning.

It seems the only relief is when we act like the tax collector – for he is the one who walks away justified. The only time we seem justified in our prayer is when we confess every week. When we come to God begging for forgiveness. 

We approach God like the tax collector, broken and disconsolate, humiliated. God, in mercy, lifts us up, exalts us, and sets us a place of honor at the banquet table.

But we also approach God like the Pharisee because we just can’t help it. We pray to God thanks for making me who I am and not making me someone who does not obey you. We are puffed up and proud and judgmental. And God, in mercy, will bring us down, so that we can join the party with our fellow sinners.

See the Pharisee is not some venomous villain and the tax collector is not generous Joe the neighborhood handyman. These are not one-dimensional characters, just as we are not one dimensional people. If that were true, both of these people would be getting what they deserved, and that is not the point.

John Calvin said that the only way we can be justified (like the tax collector), the only way we can receive grace, is through the gift of God. This means that, in all ways, we are totally dependent upon God. It is not by any action of our own that we deserve grace.

In the parable, in Calvin’s theology, and in our experience of the world, what is received is not “because of,” our actions but rather, “in spite of,” them. The point is not that the two men get what they deserve, the point is that the get exactly what they don’t deserve. In spite of all that we do to mess up, even when we’re trying our best, God is still there for us. No matter what we do, no matter what our history, God is still giving us this gracious gift of forgiveness, of mercy, of salvation. This ONLY happens because of God.

So, are you the Pharisee or are you the tax collector? Most of us are probably both at one time or another. But the promise that we hear is the promise of baptism. The promise is that God knows us and deeply loves us. The promise is that God will give us what we don’t deserve. The promise is that we all walk out of this place and join all of those other children of God out there to make up God’s totally flawed, holy community. May we always be reminded that God’s grace abounds for the most unlikely and undeserving of people: us. Amen.