30th Sunday in Ordinary Time, C October 23, 2022
Fr. Alexander Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
“At least I’m not like…” If your thought, your sentence begins with those words, you’ve probably already messed up. As straightforward as this parable is, it’s one of the easiest for people to misapply. Millennia of Christian influence on culture has made it so that we too quickly identify ourselves with the tax collector. Just because we hear the word ‘pharisee’ so often, we assume we know what it means. And all too often we instinctively follow that up with the thought “at least I’m not like a pharisee.”
Yeah, sure. You are not a member of an influential and respected sect of Jewish leaders in the 1st century. But that’s not what Jesus is criticizing. He is criticizing self-justification. Now, that sin most often comes not from Jewish law, but elsewhere. We’ve gotten into a cultural moment where the people with the power, influence, and social acceptance are people who are proud to be “sinners” and “rebels.” Even the word “sin” is muddled up. We almost need to forget the words “pharisee” and “tax collector” to escape our automatic judgments.
So, let’s try this. What group of people is the most respected and influential group in our country? I bet if I asked each person here, I’d get dozens of answers. Politicians, the LGBTQ+ lobby, judges, doctors, activists, priests, businessmen, musicians, actors, and social media stars. I don’t actually want a single answer. The point is that identifying the modern equivalent of a “pharisee” isn’t as simple as finding the right, new label. Depending on the situation, any one of those kinds of people could be seen as either the pharisee or the tax collector. Even literal pharisees were sometimes the good guy in the story. Gamaliel was a pharisee who had the humility to argue against persecuting Christians.
What matters isn’t the group or label they fall under. What matters is the attitude they have toward God and others. So forget the labels. Let’s try calling them “the good one” and “the bad one.”
Instead of praying to God, the bad one speaks a “prayer to himself.” He says “O God” as if he’s talking to God, but the content of his prayer make it clear that it doesn’t matter who is listening. There is no clear respect. There is no deference. There is no request or humility. He simply lists his achievements. It’s apparent that he doesn’t really care who is listening, so long as he gets to pat his own back. God only matters as the witness to this man’s goodness. Flowing from that is also his attitude towards others. The rest of humanity… this tax collector – they have no inherent worth in this man’s mind. This bad one makes himself the central point of reference. The only value of other people comes from how they relate to this man… as his lessers.
What about the good one? His prayer is direct and humble. God is the center point, he is only included in his own prayer as the potential recipient of the goodness and mercy of God. And what of his attitude toward others? He doesn’t even seem to be aware of the pharisee. The only reference to others is hidden in how he describes himself, as a “sinner.” This man is calls himself a sinner precisely because of how he has mistreated others. Rather than making their value dependent on himself, he see his own status before God as dependent on their dignity, the dignity he has violated in some way.
In other words, what determines whether one is good or bad is whether one treats God as God and others as having dignity that comes from God. Rick Warren once wrote that “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less” and he’s got a point. The humble man or woman thinks primarily of what is true and what is good. In other words, the humble man thinks of God first and himself only insofar as necessary to serve God. The tax collector is not yet humble, but he is humbling himself. He is working towards that reality by setting God’s mercy as the starting point.
And this is the point of the parable of Jesus: that we should strive for humility. How? C.S. Lewis advises, that “if anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realize that one is proud… nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.” He’s right. We must admit we are conceited and then imitate the tax collector and seek mercy.
But is that enough? Just come to Church, beg for mercy, and then go home justified? No. If that tax collector simply stopped there, his justification would not last. How do I know this? From the example of St. Paul. He was a pharisee both literally and metaphorically. One so proud that he dragged Christians to their deaths. Knocked low, he became like the tax collector, pleading for mercy. But he did not stop there. His experience of mercy led to his proclamation of that mercy to others. It led to his lifelong effort to compete, to race towards holiness. The tax collector in the gospel is the beginning. What we see with Paul in the second reading is the end. Unlike the self-focused prayer of the pharisee in the gospel, the confident proclamation of Paul the Christian is rooted in humble trust in God’s goodness and in service to His Glory.
So, rather than seeing yourself as either the pharisee or the tax collector, see that you are both. We must acknowledge that we are too often like the pharisee, blind in our pride. We must imitate the tax collector, admitting our sins and seeking mercy. But we must not stop there, because that is only the beginning of justification. We must follow the example of Paul and truly compete, striving for ongoing repentance and holiness. “Finishing the race” is not synonymous with dying. Just because the race ended doesn’t mean you finished. Indeed, if you never start down the road of humility, you will certainly never arrive.
So do not fall for the trap of comparison! “At least I’m not like…” No! Look not at yourself, but at God. For that is what real humility is, to see God clearly and everything else in His light. In His light, see your sins. In His light, see the dignity of others, even if they are great sinners. In His light, have confidence that He “will rescue [you] from every evil threat and will bring [you] safe to his heavenly kingdom.” Safe not from suffering and trial, but safe from the most dangerous thing there is: your own pride.