Pentecost 20C

If you recall last week’s gospel lesson, it took place just before this. It was a parable about an unrighteous judge. It’s not a coincidence that the parable in this week’s lesson follows immediately after the unrighteous judge. Let me offer you some context.

“In the ancient Jewish lawcourt, all cases were [simply 2 sides - each trying to convince the judge that their side was right, both criminal cases and civil ones.] If someone had stolen from you, you had to bring a charge against them; you couldn’t get the police to do it for you. If someone had murdered a relative of yours, the same would be true. So every legal case in Jesus’ day was a matter of a judge deciding to vindicate one party or the other: ‘vindication’ or ‘justification’ here means upholding their side of the story, deciding in their favour. This word ‘justification’, which we meet a lot in Paul but hardly ever in the gospels, means exactly this: that the judge finds in one’s favour at the end of the case.” [Tom Wright, Luke for Everyone (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2004), 212.]

This week’s parable actually is something like a lawsuit in this sense. The Pharisee’s “‘prayer’, which consists simply of telling God all about his own good points, ends up exalting himself by the simple expedient of denouncing the tax-collector. The tax-collector, however, is the one whose small faith sees through to the great heart of God (see 17:6), and he casts himself on the divine mercy. Jesus reveals what the divine judge would say about this: the tax-collector, not the Pharisee, returned home vindicated.” [Wright, 213–214.]

“Vindicated” or “justified”. Justification is another one of those church words that we throw around on Sunday mornings, but not as much in our everyday lives. I want to make sure we all have the same understanding. I think the description of the Jewish law court is helpful. If the judge rules in our favor, *then* we are justified. The judge is going to look at the Pharisee and the tax collector and see very clearly which one thinks he’s innocent, and which one *knows* he’s guilty. If you think you’re innocent, you don’t need to ask for mercy. If you know you’re guilty, you are completely dependent on the mercy of the judge.

“These two parables together make a powerful statement about what, in Paul’s language, is called ‘justification by faith’. The wider context is the final law court, in which God’s chosen people will be vindicated [justified] after their life of suffering, holiness and service. Though enemies outside and inside may denounce and attack them, God will act and show that they truly are his people. But this doesn’t mean that one can tell in the present who God’s elect are, simply by the outward badges of virtue… If you want to see where this final vindication is anticipated in the present, look for where there is genuine penitence, genuine casting of oneself on the mercies of God. ‘This one went home vindicated’; those are among the most comforting words in the whole gospel.” [Wright, 214.]

The one whom God justified was the one who humbled himself. The one whom God did not was the one who was too proud. Humility is preached many times in the Scriptures. I don’t encounter it very often. Society doesn’t preach humility; society preaches “self-confidence” and “self-actualization” and even just plain “pride”. I mean, there’s even a whole month called “Pride Month” now.

The world does not want us to live the way the God would have us live. And sadly, pride is a very, VERY sneaky tempter. “Pride is the dandelion of the soul. Its root goes deep; only a little left behind sprouts again. Its seeds lodge in the tiniest encouraging cracks. And it flourishes in good soil: The danger of pride is that it feeds on goodness.” [David Rhodes]

Not everyone who is guilty of pride is as outgoing about it as those who celebrate Pride Month. Remember: the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable was praying these things to himself. He was not announcing it out loud. Jesus gave us a glimpse of his inner thoughts. So we got to hear him praising himself. Proud of his own “goodness”. You can almost hear God say “well if you’re that good, you don’t need me.” And, that’s a true statement, isn’t it? If we were really and truly good, we would *not* need God.

However - and this is where I really am partial to the Lutheran teaching on this - God’s Law tells us that we are not good. This is the Second Use of the Law, or what we call the “mirror”. When we look at ourselves through the lens of God’s Law, we can see the many ways that we don’t live up to it. We see just how many times we’ve broken God’s Law, committed sins, put ourselves before others, and especially how often we put ourselves before God. Very quickly, we begin to realize that we aren’t all that good. That we *do* need God. We *do* need a Savior. And when that realization kicks in - and it WILL - the best thing we can say is exactly what the tax collector said: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

I find it interesting that when you look at that sentence in Greek, it doesn’t say “a sinner”, it says “the sinner”. That’s how poorly the tax collector viewed himself. He wouldn’t even look to heaven. He beat his breast (a sign of sorrow and penance). He knew without question that the only hope he had was to throw himself on God’s mercy and rely on his Savior completely.

The next part of today’s reading seems like it’s separate, but I’m here to tell you: it really isn’t. It’s a continuation, and I’m thankful that it’s here. I hope you’ve heard me say before that one of my frustrations with Scripture is that it tells us *what* we are to do or not to do in many places, and often in great detail. It does not, however, tell us *how* to do these things. But verses 15-17 are a rare exception.

If you don’t know how to throw yourself completely on God’s mercy, these verses are the explanation. In verse 15, the word is “infant”. These are not kindergartners or preschoolers. These are babies. They are not capable of coming to Jesus on their own; they must be brought. In fact, they are not capable of anything on their own. They are completely dependent on their parents for everything in their lives.

When Jesus tells his disciples “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God” he recognizes this complete helplessness. The infant does not let pride get in the way. Infants do not claim their own faith or boast in their own righteousness. Infants don’t look down on those who don’t go to church as often as they do or put as much in their offering as they do. Jesus then says “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” Did you notice the verb? It doesn’t say “enter” or “take” the kingdom of God… it says “receive”. This is a passive action. To receive, something must be given. And for an infant, they are only able to receive. They are not capable of taking; they are not capable of entering…not on their own.

This is our “how”. We are called to look at ourselves as completely incapable of entering the Kingdom of God on our own. We are called to humble ourselves and realize our own sinfulness and confess it to God, asking for His mercy and forgiveness. This is a big part of why we begin every worship service with Confession - it helps us recognize that, acknowledge it, and lay it at God’s feet…those very feet that were pierced on the cross as the price for our sins.

What do you suppose would happen to our social environment if this humility thing caught on and replaced the pride thing? What would it look like if everyone we met was more humble like the tax collector and less prideful like the Pharisee? How much of the chaos and the conflict that we see might just disappear? The only way it happens is if we model it for everyone around us. And maybe - just maybe - it will catch on. This is one thing that I do hope is contagious.

I’ll close with this, from President Lincoln in 1863. This was his Proclamation of a day of National Humiliation, Fasting and Prayer that year. Note how timely this message is:

“We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven; we have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity; we have grown in numbers, wealth, and power as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us.”

A. Lincoln, Proclamation of a day of National Humiliation, Fasting and Prayer, 1863.

We are called to live differently than the world around us. But we are called to live in that world. As we live the life of faith, the life of a disciple of Jesus Christ, we will stick out. And we stick out because the light of Christ shines out through us. “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”