Who doesn’t like an “attaboy!” when they do something good? It’s why we have “honor society” in school. It is the reason we have scholarship awards as we head into college. “Attaboy!” stands behind all those accolades high achievers get throughout life — Rhode’s scholarships, purple hearts, Silver stars, gold statues, merit raises for school teachers, making partner in a big firm, getting re-elected (in any organization, at any level). “Attaboys!” reward the gracious, good, above-and-beyond behaviors we see in others. Good persons deserve good things.
The problem is that our vision of “good behavior” can get extremely myopic, extremely near-sighted. We only are able to see the good in those who stand closest to us. Those far off become, if not “bad,” at least “other.” “Otherness” is perhaps the most insidious form of prejudice. Why? Because “otherness” makes close closed. “Otherness” disassociates our close family and other loved ones from outsiders and strangers. As soon as we identify some people as “others,” the game is over. We have drawn up “us” vs. “them” battle-lines.
In this week’s gospel parable the good-living, well-meaning Pharisee and the ne’r-do-well tax collector are set up as ideal types of the “acceptable” vs. the “other.” The contrast could not be sharper. The Pharisee examines himself, and finds no fault with himself. The tax collector lets God examine him, and throws himself on the bar of God's justice (receiving mercy as God does). Ironically, the Pharisee treats God as a debt collector and the Tax collector, who IS a debt collector, treats God as a Savior.
The Pharisee lives a truly faithful life. He obeys the letter of the Law. He prays. He fasts. He tithes. He is a Pharisee — that is, an individual who has devoted his life to the study and practice of Torah law as it impacts everyday living for an observant Jew. The Pharisee in this week’s parable should have been thankful that he lived a life devoted to the incarnation of Torah principles. But the Pharisee’s “prayer” was not a prayer at all. He did not come to God with a spirit that stood humbly before God in acknowledgment of an unmerited gift that only God could offer.
The only time true “prayer” was offered in this parable was by the tax collector. He did not articulate his gifts and graces, or his sins and shortcomings. Despite the brow-beating his profession of “tax collector” gets in the New Testament, it was not a forbidden profession for Jews. The biggest “bad-ness” of the tax collector’s life was the way they brushed elbows on a daily basis with the ritually unclean as they were doing business.
But according to the Torah such ritual uncleanliness could be “washed off” weekly in the “mikvah,” the ritual bath that offered purification to Jews after their encounters with the rest of the world. Yet this tax collector still perceived himself as a sinner. He felt his failure, and knew without a doubt he stood in need of God’s forgiveness if he had any hope of redemption.
This parable is the “Good Samaritan” all over again. In the more famous Jesus story, those who have all the credentials, first a priest and then a Levite, manage to walk on by an injured man by the side of the road, In this week’s parable it is the obedient, observant Pharisee, the poster child for rigorous righteousness, who turns out to be the one who does not connect to the call of the Kingdom. His righteousness does not reach beyond his own boundaries, and his righteousness stiff-arms “others.”
The surprise “Samaritan” in this week’s parable is, once again, one who has been classified by the “in crowd” as one of those who is “The Other.” An outsider. Someone everyone else considered a go-along-to-get-along government-droid. A tax-collector. Yet he addresses God firsthand and face first. This tax collector directly asks, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” No excuses. No digressions. No explanations. The tax collector, whose chosen profession was, once again, NOT explicitly in opposition to any Torah laws, nevertheless confessed his all-too-human inadequacies to God, while seeking God’s forgiveness and acceptance.
The unexpected good guy — the Samaritan of this week’s text — is the tax collector. Jesus has primed his listeners for this surprising saint both with his earlier associations with these civil servants and his suggestions about the “last going first.” But we usually fail to perceive the presence of such people.
Earlier in October graffiti street artist “Banksy” — who has intentionally kept his personal identity under-wraps for the past twenty years traveled from his hometown of London to New York City. Bansky undertook another artistic experiment. This world-renowned artist, whose original works have sold for millions of dollars at auction, set up a small stand on a sidewalk off Central Park. He was selling ”original, signed” pieces of his art. The price for each canvas was $60.00.
Despite this sale happening in a supposedly art-savvy New York City, despite the cache of his name, Bansky (manning his little kiosk in disguise) only managed to sell eight original works during the course of a long, hard day on the sidewalk. Set up on a bench outside the park, no one appreciated what he had to offer. Because of where he was, he was seen as worthless. Because of who he looked like, his work was seen as valueless. One woman even argued the artist down from his $60.00/piece price to a “twofer” — she got a half-price deal because she bought two for her small daughter’s bedroom. One buyer said he just needed something to “cover the walls.” Each canvas purchased for the street price of sixty bucks is estimated to have resale value of 750,000 to a million dollars.
A secret unknown and unguessed by the rest of the world. That is the Kingdom of Heaven. Insight into that secret is what makes a “Good Samaritan,” what transforms self-serving into sacrificial service. Glimpsing that astounding new reality is what makes a prayerful, repentant tax collector. A tax collector is a debt collector, a tabulator, one who adds up debts. Yet in this parable, the tabulator is the one redeemed because he realizes that tabulating debts is sin. The Pharisee is also one who "tabulates" but not the debts of others. He tabulates points for himself. He tallies up his merit badges, his “Attaboys!” and declares himself deserving. The Pharisees are merit badge collectors, yet it is the tax collector who ends up wearing the "red badge of courage,” the evidence of his sin on his sleeve.
If we treat God as though God is a collector of points or will deal out favors like badges for all to see, then we insult the Creator. We cannot expect favors. God's love is not earned. And God’s justice is not vindictive or arbitrary. God is a God of love and mercy. Despite the trudging atrocities of his everyday life, the tax collector trusts that God is a God of love and mercy. His connection to the coming Kingdom is based upon his personal confession of fallenness and a plea for forgiveness.
God is not in the business of collecting or bestowing favors. And prayer should be a conversation, not a status report. A request, not a list of bullet points. When we enter into prayer in the way of "proving" our righteousness, we in fact only prove our pride. We not only deceive others, but ourselves. True prayer is about giving up, not puffing up. Righteousness is a gift to be received, not a merit badge to be earned.
This is Reformation Sunday. And the essence of the Reformation lies at the heart of today’s text. The tax collector treats God as a Just Judge, and flings himself upon the mercy of the court. The Pharisee treats God as a tax collector, a debt collector, and seeks to prove his status as PAID IN FULL. But only God can declare us PAID IN FULL.not through merit badges but through God’s amazing grace as a Debt-Eliminator, and Jesus, the Great Debt-Eraser.
One of the greatest poets in the history of Christianity is George Herbert. He lived from 1593 to 1633. Born into a wealthy family, he received the best education of his day and taught at Cambridge University. After serving two years in Parliament, he felt the call to ministry, and served the rest of his life as a faithful pastor to his people, all the while writing poetry that has stayed with us to this day.
En route to visit some friends one day, Herbert stopped to help a farm hand whose horse had fallen under his load. When Herbert arrived late, dirty and disheveled, his friends asked why he had so “disparaged himself by so dirty an employment.” Herbert replied that “the thought of what he had done would prove music to him at midnight,” and that he lived in such a way “to practice what I pray for.” (John Drury, Music at Midnight: the Life and Poetry of George Herbert (Allen Lane, 2013).
In the darkness of the midnight hour, do you hear the phone ringing, the debt collectors calling, and calling and calling?
Or in the darkness of the midnight hour, can you hear the music?
COMMENTARY
As Luke continues his focus on the role of faithfulness through prayer while awaiting the arrival of God’s kingdom, he offers yet another Jesus parable found only in the third gospel.
The working “title” of this story the “parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector” — is actually somewhat misleading. Although the two main characters are indeed a Pharisee and a tax or toll collector, the parable itself is addressed to “some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt” (v.1). These individuals are never specifically addressed as “Pharisees,” or scribes, or any other uniquely identifiable group.
Jesus intentionally addresses this parable to any and all who consider themselves “righteous” and who consider everyone else as “hoi loipoi” — “others” — those outside the realm of righteousness and respectability. Jesus’ parable is addressed to all those who decide for themselves who is righteous and worthy of redemption, and those who are unalterably “others,” forever outside the reach of God’s kingdom. Throughout this section of Luke’s gospel Jesus has been addressing both his own disciples and followers and the critical crowd of Pharisees and Scribes who have been scrutinizing his Torah obedience. There is no scriptural evidence to suggest that the “some” whom Jesus now addresses does not include all of those various listeners.
Having included a broad range of individuals as his target audience, Jesus now proceeds to offer a parable with two stock characters. For Luke’s observant readers it would not be hard to discern which way this story might sway. The two main characters are a Pharisee and a tax collector, two groups that have been juxtaposed several times already in Luke’s gospel. Pharisees (and Scribes) have consistently been presented as a group intent upon analyzing Jesus’ adherence to the details of the Torah, and challenging his “slip-shod” interpretations and practices of Torah mandates. Jesus had also previously noted a Pharisaic fondness for higher social status (Luke 16:15). Tax collectors, on the other hand, have been prominently featured in Luke’s gospel among those who have responded immediately and openly to Jesus’ gospel and the coming of the Kingdom.
And yet, the prayer of the Pharisee does not reveal any bad behavior. On the contrary, the list of good and worthy actions the praying Pharisee recites are clearly works of righteousness. This Pharisee fasts, not just according to scriptural mandates but “twice a week,” as an embodiment of his faith. He tithes, not just according to the letter of the Law. There are no “tax loopholes” for this guy, he gives a tenth of “all my income,” with no exceptions or distinctions.
The problem with this Pharisee is not his actions, which genuinely follow the Torah in seeking to establish a righteous life. The problem is with his attitude. The Pharisee stands off “by himself” as he prays. The Greek is indefinite here, and could be interpreted simply as praying in solitude, or could mean he “prayed” to himself, focused fully inward, with no divine direction. Apparently he did have one eye open and that eye was cast towards his far off prayer neighbor, the tax collector. Even if we accept the neutral translation that the Pharisee simply prayed quietly in separation from others, the focus of this Pharisee’s prayer is problematic.
Just as Jesus had addressed this parable to those who distinguished between themselves and “others” (“hoi loipoi”), so this Pharisee distinguishes between his faith life and the faith lives of “other people (v.11). The Pharisee is not shy about itemizing those who are “others:” “thieves, rogues, adulterers” and, just in case God had missed him, that tax collector skulking about in the corner of the Temple. This Pharisee not only differentiates himself, setting aside everyone who does meet his standards as an “other.” He also takes it upon himself to point out to God the presence of a particularly pernicious person, a tax collector, in an “arrow prayer” aimed to condemn someone else.
This Pharisee was living a righteous life with his actions. He believed his actions merited him the gift of God’s grace and mercy. God owed him grace. But acceptance into the Kingdom of God is not based upon settling some long term payment of good actions.
When the tax collector stands before God in the Temple, he stands “far off” — not because he thinks he is “special,” but because he believes he is especially unworthy to stand front and center before God in the prayer court of the Holy Temple. Although the tax collector does not specifically ask for forgiveness, he physically offers his spiritual contrition by “beating his breast” and imploring God to be “merciful” while he confessed he was a “sinner.” The tax collector stands far away from the Pharisee because he believes he is unworthy. Yet it is in that unique and separate suffering spirit that God’s grace so easily locates and loves him.
The Pharisee, who spent his prayer time justifying himself to God and declaring his own genuinely good works but distancing himself from all those “others,” had no room in his heart for God’s grace. He was already filled with his own self-righteousness. There is no room in his soul for God’s grace. On the other hand, the tax collector emptied himself before God in his prayer, confessing his weaknesses and asking only for mercy — not a stamp of approval.
The tax collector understood that God was in charge and that entering the Kingdom of God depended upon being in a real relationship with God. The Pharisee believed he had earned himself a first class ticket to the Kingdom of God all on his own, without God’s help. He was put on stand-by status.
The King of God is not just about an inversion of expectations — the last coming first, the first coming last. It is also about the realization that above all else, beyond anything we can be or do, we need the power of God’s grace to enter into that Kingdom.