Luke 18:9-14

Pentecost 20 | October 23, 2022 | Lk 18: 9-14 | David Zersen |

He 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.”

RIGHTEOUSNESS THAT ISN’T FAKE

When we children would sometimes give the impression that we thought more of ourselves than kids with whom we were playing (or maybe even fighting), my grandmother would say:

“Eigenlob stinkt.” It interesting to me that I remembered that phrase as I read the parable in today’s Gospel lesson. “Self-praise stinks”, she would say in an off-handed kind of way. Although we didn’t speak German as children, somehow we caught the drift.

I suspect that the grandmother of the Pharisee in our text may have said something similar to her grandchildren. It’s an insight that comes with maturity. However, in this parable, we have the impression that maturity didn’t change the Pharisee’s views. Luke portrays him as haughty and arrogant. Let’s meet the man.

Meeting the Pharisee

Before we judge him too harshly we need to remember who the Pharisees were. At the time of Jesus, they were a social group among the Jews who made a clear distinction between themselves and gentiles or irreligious Jews. They actually tried hard to follow Jewish law, to stand tall in their tradition and take some satisfaction from the fact that they were doing what their heritage expected of them. At times their desire to be holy came off as sanctimonious. This attitude, however, is not what Jesus found unacceptable in them or even in this parable.

Jesus’ concern was that as good as the Pharisee was—and he may have been very good, he attributed his goodness to his actions. He may have had many advantages—let’s call them blessings—but he thanks himself for them, not God. The theological word to explore here is “righteousness”. The Pharisee locates righteousness in himself, in his actions. For Jesus who believes that all goodness comes from God, that view is a fake righteousness—a high-minded kind of virtue that doesn’t give credit to those who shaped you in a positive way. Such a perspective insists that your goodness is self-made: “Look, ma, I’m the best one.”  Eigenlob stinkt.

My wife and I attended “Titanic” this week, a musical production of the event we all know as the boarding, sailing and sinking in 1912 of what was the largest ocean-going vessel of its day. While attention was paid to many things during the course of the crossing, a great deal of emphasis was placed on the real reason why the “Titanic” sank. We all know that it hit an iceberg! But the script takes great pain to insist that the hubris, the pride, of the owners was the real problem. They tried to demonstrate that the ocean crossing could take place in six days, which brought the ship to a premature collision with an iceberg. The tragic loss of 1500 lives as well as a huge investment of money, hopes and dreams, the message reiterated, resulted from Eigenlob— pride. Ultimately, it was the belief that the owners were better than their counterparts.

Christians have learned to shudder at the charge of “self-righteousness”—the idea that a person might take credit for her/ his opportunities, advantages, blessings— even salvation itself. “We are debtors all” are the final words attributed to Martin Luther on his deathbed. When we have learned to appreciate the many ways in which our lives are stimulated, enhanced and strengthened by our appreciation of God’s love at work in us, then we will have less interest in celebrating our achievements—and more interest in thanking God for his mercy.

Meeting the Tax Collector

Now let’s spend a few moments meeting the tax collector in the parable Even the people who work for the IRS in the U.S. are often not our favorite people because they have the authority to take from us what their interpretation of law claims they are entitled to. The tax collectors of Jesus’ day, however, had greater claim to be unscrupulous. In the first place, they were Jews employed by the despised Roman government. Secondly, however, while they contracted with the government to pay a certain amount from each taxpayer, they had the authority to collect whatever they wanted to satisfy their “costs”. Not only were they politically reprobate, therefore; they were cheats!  Not only did their fellow Jews know this; God also knew it.

Standing in the temple area, wondering what in the world he might say to God or anyone else in that setting, Jesus has him beating his breast in a proper Jewish way and saying the Jewish equivalent of mea culpa, Kyrie Eleison, “Lord be merciful to me, a sinner.” There may have been good things that the tax collector did for his wife, his children, his neighbors, ect. Over against a publicly-visible dishonest life, however, they had no credible value. He couldn’t even look God in the face that day. He who regularly took from others what should not have been his, was now, as Luther admitted and we might as well, a beggar pleading for mercy.

We talk a great deal about “sin” as Christians. My wife and I remember well when we would talk about the cause for some dilemma we or others were facing, a close friend would usually pronounce the obvious cause: “SIN”. It became a joke—sin became the cause for everything untoward. But “sin” is certainly a term out of vogue in the public square. If you use it in a sentence, you might be castigated as a “Christian National” or some hyper-traditional type who doesn’t realize that society is beyond such epithets given our scientific view of the world.

Within the context of today’s parable, however, sin is simply choosing actions that misuse people or truth. Lying is sin. Deceiving others is sin. Taking what doesn’t belong to us is sin. Imputing false motives to others is sin. Defaming people who have loved us is sin. Taking another’s life is sin. The headlines are full of such activities every day. Our governments and our businesses are riddled with involvement in them. And, worst of all, we ourselves are not free from such activity. From childhood on, we have asserted our self-will. We want things to go our way. We insist that we have the freedom to do what we want even if it doesn’t serve the interests of our neighbors. The list is long and we’re justifiably accused by it, but we’re tired of hearing about it! We don’t even like to say we believe in original sin. It sounds old-school. It sounds so much more cultured to say we believe that everyone is born perfect! And occasionally, some, but surely not us, do go astray.

 Today, I ask you to think for a moment about the two characters in our parable and to ask yourself, if you had to identify with one of them, who would you be? You could be a  Pharisee who finds value in celebrating that God has given you another day in which you have not succumbed to some besetting temptation—and in fact you have in a number of ways chosen the good, the better, even the best. In itself, that wouldn’t be bad. On the other hand, you could be a tax collector who knows that unfortunate aspects of your life are known to others and you’re going to own up to them and try to make some changes. That wouldn’t be bad either. A decision could be made to revise how you look at yourself and others as well. If you were to spend some time with either character before you make your decision, what would you ask them? Who are you more like now? Who would you prefer to be?

I would suggest that today this congregation has representatives of both characters. We are a community of people in process. We are sinners on a journey to a fuller life. We are saints made righteous by a mercy God shares with us through our faith in the merits of Jesus our Saviour. Daily we remember our baptisms in which God embraced us with a love that will never die. Today we claim that righteousness as our own even though we fall short of living up to it in our daily life. Despite our failures, however, there is nothing fake about a righteousness that will present us blameless before the throne of grace. Luther called it an “alien righteousness,” one given to us by another, even Jesus our Lord.

Like a Pharisee, we want to choose the good, although we know that the power to choose comes only from our faith in God’s love for us in Christ. And like a tax collector, we may lose hope because we so often fail. Yet we know that we are loved and strengthened to rise and try again because we continue to listen in God’s word to his message of forgiveness and grace.

The Rev. David Zersen, President Emeritus

Concordia University Texas

zersendj@gmail.com