Cannon UMC Oct. 28, 2007

Luke 18:9-14 (NRSV)
9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:
10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.
11 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.
12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’
13 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!’
14 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.”

This is, of course, a very familiar passage. And it’s a passage we enjoy reading, because we like seeing the Pharisee get his comeuppance. It’s a typical Hollywood story. We enjoy seeing the high and mighty taken down a notch.

But when I was writing this sermon, one of the commentaries I read pointed out that we can’t get too excited about this. Jesus was trying to get us to understand how often we – you and I – play the part of the Pharisee in this little story.

There were three special religious societies in the time of Jesus: the Pharisees, the Saducees and the Essenes. Each of the three groups was made up of people who had set themselves apart and were attempting to live according to a higher law. In fact, the word “Pharisee” comes from a Hebrew word that means “separated one.” The Pharisees were the most powerful and visible of the three groups.

Holy living is a good thing. But holy living can also lead to pride, to smugness, and that kind of pride is a bad thing. In the case of the Pharisees, their rules were often out of kilter to the real laws of God on which they were based. The Pharisees took their interpretation of the law and treated it like the law itself, and they kept piling on layer after layer after layer until no one but the Pharisees could keep up with it, and that let the Pharisees think that they were holier than anyone else.

The Pharisee in this story boasts about the good things he’s done. He fasts twice a week. He tithes. He lives according to all the various little rules and regulations which the Pharisees propagated. He couldn’t really think of anything he was doing wrong. He was probably too clever to use the word, but in his heart of hearts, he probably thought of himself as … perfect.

One of John Wesley’s most difficult teachings to understand is the teaching of Christian perfection. John Wesley used the term perfection to describe the transformation of our life and our spirit which God brings about. Just yesterday, at a layspeaking class over in Tullahoma, our teacher, Jackie Clevenger, made reference to this. Some people don’t like that term “perfection,” but Jackie said that Wesley would tell us that if we aren’t moving towards perfection, we’re moving away from it.

But Wesley made it clear that he understood we were not free of sin in this earthly life. When Wesley spoke and wrote about God perfecting us, he was talking about a process, and he was under no illusions that the process could be completed while we are still in a “house of clay,” as Wesley called it at one point. The perfection that Wesley wrote about is a process, and it is not an excuse for pride or self-righteousness.

Just eight years ago, a director named M. Night Shyamalan made a movie called “The Sixth Sense.” This movie has a surprise ending to it, which I won’t give away this morning. Recently, Mr. Shyamalan was interviewed and said that “The Sixth Sense” wouldn’t be nearly as successful if it came out today. The reason, he said, was the Internet. Today, even before the movie premiered, there would be people who would learn about the secret and spoil it for others.

We live in an age when there are no secrets – politicians or televangelists who talk one way and live another will soon be found out. And we have found out, over the last few decades, about a number of people who preached family values but lived something different entirely.

But while it’s tempting to cluck our tongues at the famous hypocrites, the fact of the matter is that we we all have hypocrisy in our lives. Even those whose actions are never found wanting have sins of the heart – sins of thought, sins of omission. We are, in fact, all sinners. We know this, up here, but we’re still not very good at realizing the full implications of it, or admitting it to ourselves.

Some months back, a well-known office-holder was asked by a reporter if he had made any mistakes during his time in office. He said that he was sure he had, but when the reporter pressed him to name one, he couldn’t come up with it. This led one of his political opponents – a woman from the other party – to criticize him. Look how arrogant he is, she said. He doesn’t really think he’s made any mistakes at all.

A few months later, however, she was out on the campaign trail, and a reporter asked her the same question. She said almost the exact same thing as the man she had criticized. She was smart enough to know that she had to admit to making mistakes, but when she was asked to name one she couldn’t come up with it.

We’re all like that. We all know enough about theology and the basics of the Christian faith to claim to be sinners. But in our heart of hearts, we don’t really think we’ve done anything that we didn’t have cause to do. And that makes us like the Pharisee in Jesus’s story. We look at other people, and we can see their mistakes. And, boy, aren’t we glad we aren’t like those people over there making the mistakes.

We know about Pharisees in Jesus’ day – and we also know about the tax collectors. The tax collectors of that day weren’t bureaucrats. They didn’t work for the IRS. They were, if you want to put it this way, independent contractors. The Roman government told them how much they had to collect, and they collected whatever was due Caesar – plus whatever profit they could get away with.

They were like kind of like those loan sharks you see in the movies – pay us what you owe us, plus interest, or we break your legs. That was why they were so hated – not only were they symbols of the occupying Roman government, which would have been bad enough even if they collected only what they were due, but most of them were thugs who got rich off what they collected. They made a profit off the misery of the Roman occupation.

Both of the characters in Jesus’ stories are, in fact, sinners. One of them is the symbol of holiness and piety, while the other is a member of the most despised profession of his day and age. But all that matters is that neither of them is perfect. Neither of them is able to earn his way into God’s favor.

There’s a moment in the western “Unforgiven” where Clint Eastwood’s character is talking to a younger character about the fact that the younger man has killed someone.

“I reckon he had it coming,” says the younger man.

“We all got it coming,” Eastwood answers.

The Pharisee in this story knows that the tax collector “has it coming.” But the Pharisee doesn’t realize that he, too, “has it coming.”

The tax collector, on the other hand, isn’t pointing fingers at anyone else. He realizes that he is a sinner. He’s looking down, and beating his chest, and begging God for mercy.

Jesus has purchased salvation for us through his sacrifice on the cross. Because of that, God does not demand perfection from us – at least, not the kind of perfection the Pharisees tried to claim. But what God does expect is an awareness of our sin, a reliance on God, and the kind of heart that wants to do better.

For me, one of the sharpest signs of my growth as a Christian is that the farther I get down the road, the more road I can see in front of me. Each new thing I learn about God reveals ways that I am falling short in my own life. But God gives us the grace to keep moving forward. And when we slow down, or when we turn around and start heading in the wrong direction, God keeps beckoning us to turn around and once more approach the temple with fear and trembling.

Too many of us spend our time, like the Pharisee, worrying about the ways in which other people fall short. I know I am guilty of that. Sometimes, it’s looking down my nose at a stranger – the inmate working at the courthouse or the celebrity on television whose life seems to be a disaster area. Sometimes, it’s looking down the nose at people I know. I made it to church this morning – why didn’t my neighbor? I guess he’s not as devout as I am. Isn’t it a pity that the fellow in my Sunday School class missed that scripture reference I dropped into the conversation? He must not know his Bible as well as I do.

When I tell somebody to go jump in the lake, it’s refreshing honesty – but when you tell somebody to go jump in the lake, it’s because you’re hateful and don’t have any Christian compassion.

I look down my nose a lot more than I should – and when you’re looking down your nose at someone, you’re not looking up to God.

Most of us, me included, need to look at the world with a little more compassion, and open our eyes and our hearts to those around us. But that also means we need to look at the world with a little less judgment, and spend a little more time searching our own hearts and throwing ourselves on the mercy of God.

Jesus tells us that it’s the tax collector, and not the Pharisee, who went home justified. Think about that a second. The tax collector – whose sins were very real, and very present – went home justified! That’s great news for all of us who recognize that we, too, are sinners.

He was not justified by his good works – because at that moment, he had no good works to rely on. He was justified by going to the temple – placing himself before the throne of God – and then asking for, and receiving, God’s mercy. That mercy is offered to all of us equally – regardless of what we’ve done in the past.

Jesus tells his listeners that all who exalt themselves will be humbled, while all who humble themselves will be exalted. If you believe that you have earned salvation, and that you’re closer to God than the fellow across the street, you are headed for trouble. You have missed the point, and you won’t have any real reason to call upon God and seek God’s mercy.

If, on the other hand, you humble yourself – you admit to yourself and others that you have failed, that you continue to fail, and that the only way you’ll ever make it into heaven is with a free pass from the owner, God will forgive you, and accept you, and bring you into his holy kingdom.

As we enter the temple of God, either on Sunday morning, here among the Body of Christ, or in our own private prayer time, we must all keep a sense of humility about who we are and how much we need God. Ultimately, that sense of humility will keep us focused on God and compassionate towards our fellow man. If we live like that, we, like the hated tax collector, can truly go home justified.