A Sermon
Presented by Rev. Merlin T. Batt
Intentional Interim Pastor
St. Matthew’s United Church of Christ
Maiden, North Carolina
Reformation Sunday
October 28, 2007

Scripture Lesson: Luke 18:9-14
_____________________________________________________________
Thanks be to God: it finally rained! After far too many weeks and months of unusually hot and historically dry weather here in the Southeast, we had several days of gentle rain, by no means enough to end the drought or even put a serious dent in it, but enough to make brown turn green, to bring some relief to our mounting anxiety and even some smiles to our faces. Nobody I talked to last week seemed to mind the long stretch of cloudy, rainy days. The general attitude was, instead, “Lord, keep it coming!”

There is a positive aspect to the drought we’re experiencing, however. By it we are reminded of our dependence upon events completely beyond our control. We need rain to live. Our crops and animals depend on it. Our economy depends on it. Our cities depend on it. Our bodies can’t survive long without it. Everything eventually grinds to a halt if, over a long enough period of time, it doesn’t rain.

And the truth of the matter is: we can’t make it rain. With our science and technology, we can do many amazing things, but we can’t make it rain. The prophet Jeremiah said as much in our first reading this morning. He asked rhetorically, “Can any idols of the nations bring rain? Or can the heavens give showers? Is it not you, O Lord our God? We set our hope on you, for it is you who do all this.”

That’s why last Sunday morning in our prayers here at worship we specifically asked God to send us rain, and why many churches in recent weeks got very specific in their petitions to God – praying not just for spiritual growth or peace in the world or other generic kinds of good things, but praying for water to fall from the sky. In these days we have been reminded how radically dependent we human beings are upon the grace of God.
      
Our story this Reformation Sunday morning from Luke’s Gospel is about the grace of God. It’s Jesus parable about a Pharisee and a tax collector who go up to Jerusalem to pray at the Temple. The Pharisee, with all of his outstanding moral achievements and certified religious credentials, stands alone and prays 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.” In contrast, the tax collector, feeling so unworthy he’s standing by himself off in the shadows, with all his obvious moral and religious failures, prays simply, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

Jesus then comments, “I tell you, this man (meaning the tax collector) went down to his home justified rather than the other.” Justified…in other words, the tax collector was declared to be “in the right.” He, the tax collector, not the righteous Pharisee, was the faithful Israelite, a member of God’s covenant people. He was forgiven and restored to right relationship with God. How do you figure?

Typically, the lesson drawn from this parable has to do with the virtue of humility. It goes something like this: “We must be humble before God, like that tax collector. So try to become more humble.”

Now humility is a good things, but have you ever tried to become more humble? If you have, you know that humility is not something you can put on or take off like a garment. You’re spirit is either humble or not. No amount of trying to be humble will make a difference. And, what’s more, false humility is as transparent as a pane of glass, and those who pretend humility are nothing less than a pain in the…community of faith! So, my friends, if this parable is no more than a Benjamin-Franklin-like exhortation to humility, it’s not worth our time this morning. We, of all people, should have had enough of self-help advice which never helps.

So what’s really going on in this explosive little parable told by our Lord? Let’s take a closer look. The first thing to know is that the Pharisees were not the bad guys in Jesus’ day, in spite of what many modern-day Christians assume. Instead, the Pharisees were the best examples of the most exalted religion the ancient world had to offer. These Pharasaic Jews took the Bible seriously. They believed in God passionately, even zealously. They practiced their Judaism diligently. Every aspect of their lives from the moment they awakened until the moment they fell off to sleep was regulated by laws and habits based on the Bible. These Pharisees were deeply religious people, and they were determined to be faithful to God in every aspect of life, and to see to it that others were as well!

I once heard it said that you can tell how important religion is in a person’s life by looking at how their religion affects two important aspects of life – the stomach and the purse. With these in mind, do you remember what the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable said to God? In relation to his stomach, he told God, “I fast twice a week.” On Tuesdays and Thursdays he ate no food from sun-up to sun-down, as a way of preparing his spirit for closer fellowship with God. Most Jews of his day fasted once a week, but this Pharisee did it twice a week.

And, remember, in relation to his purse the Pharisee said, “I give a tenth of all my income.” The Jewish Law required giving a tenth (or a tithe) on certain kinds of income, but this Pharisee tithed everything he earned – a tenth of his whole income was given back to God. The picture is consistent – this Pharisee is the best of the best, the cream of the crop. Any congregation – including this one – would be delighted to have among its members such a morally serious and spiritually devoted man as was this Pharisee.

And then there’s the tax collector. He’s often portrayed as the hero of the story, like some kind of “Generous Joe the Bartender” who rejects organized religion, but still has about him a kind of authentic spirituality, a simple, everyday kind of guy from whom we are to learn how to be humble.

But this portrait doesn’t hold up on closer inspection. This tax collector is no folk hero. You see, this Jew worked for the Romans, collecting their oppressive taxes, and skimming off a large portion for himself. In short, he was not only a dishonest man, but a traitor to his country. He and his fellow traitors were hated by their fellow Jews. The tax collectors were thieves, rogues and traitors to boot. There was no one lower on the scale of social and religious acceptability than a tax collector. If this parable were told today, the tax collector would be an American citizen who provides financial support to al-Qaeda.

Now with your mind’s eye, look with me these two characters at prayer. The Pharisee stands by himself, symbolic of the moral and spiritual distance he perceives between himself and others. The tax collector stands off along the perimeter in the shadows, his eyes cast downward, emphasizing the distance between himself and God. Comparing himself to others who have come to pray, the Pharisee boasts before God of his piety and purity. The tax collector can only beat his breast as a sign of shame and repentance.

The Pharisee begins his prayer like a psalm of thanksgiving. He says, “God, I thank you.” But from this point on the prayer goes downhill, because the only thing for which he is grateful is his own moral and spiritual accomplishment. What he proceeds to thank God for is that he is not like other people.

The tax collector’s prayer also begins like one of Israel’s psalms. He acknowledges his sin and his great need for God. He cries out for God’s mercy, like King David did after his sordid affair with Bathsheba and his murderous plot against her husband, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;” prayed David. “According to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight.”

Now, you do remember what Jesus said about these two men? He said that the tax collector, not the Pharisee, “went down to his home justified.” How could that be? How could it be that such a scoundrel as this would be declared “in the right” by God? Do not moral behavior and religious devotion count for anything in the sight of God? We wonder.

Here’s the problem. We assume there is a huge difference between the Pharisee and the tax collector. And, morally speaking, of course, there is. But in the eyes of God, these two men are the same in one important respect. Do you know what that is? They are both, equally, sinners. They are both, equally, in desperate need of God’s grace! The major distinction between the two is that the tax collector knew he was a sinner dependent on God’s grace, but the Pharisee didn’t. In all his religious fervor and accomplishment he had forgotten how sin remained an issue in his life and how dependent he was, and always would be, upon God’s grace.

You and I, we are religious people. We strive to live a moral life. We are church members; and to varying degrees we make church a priority in our lives. That means you and I are at risk of becoming like the Pharisee in this parable: blind to our sin, distant from God, and arrogant toward others. Jesus’ reminds us with his parable that we never entirely leave behind our sinfulness. We never outgrow our dependence upon God’s mercy. We never graduate from the school of discipleship. Therefore, the tax collector’s prayer, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner,” must always be on our lips.

If we forget this basic fact about ourselves in relation to God, then we eventually become like the Pharisee at prayer, outwardly moral and obviously religious, but full of himself and, therefore, empty of God. If we lose sight of our constant need for God’s grace, if we begin to think we have “arrived” spiritually, we become harshly critical and rejecting toward others. We quickly lose patience with, lack compassion for, and condemn other people who fall short morally and spiritually, while inwardly we thank God that we are not like them.

And if God doesn’t get our attention and remind us that we never outgrow our status as sinners in deep need of God’s grace, then something happens to the life of the church as well. Meant to be a hospital for sinners, the church becomes a club for the righteous. Meant to be a life-saving station, the church becomes a spa for modern Pharisees. And when we forget our dependence upon God’s grace, our eagerness to share with sinners like us the good news of Jesus Christ disappears while we attend to our own religious needs and interests.

Today is Reformation Sunday, a day each year devoted to remembering and celebrating that we are saved by God’s grace alone, through faith in Jesus Christ alone. Just as we cannot make it rain, so we cannot save ourselves by our own efforts, but must rely totally on God.

Let us pray: Thank you, God, for this disturbing parable of grace. It’s the word we must hear and obey if we are to grow into the fullness of the stature of Jesus Christ our Lord. May we never lose our willingness to pray daily with that tax collector, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” And, praying thus, we would ask for tender hearts toward sinners like us. And, God, make us a church which is more like a hospital for sinners than a club for Pharisees. This we pray in our Savior’s dear name. Amen.