The first thing we need to do is to give this Pharisee half a chance. Forget the prejudice that Jesus’ frequently stinging remarks about Pharisees have formed in your mind. Give the guy in this parable as much credit as you can. He is, after all, a good man. His prayer of thanksgiving to God is a good one. To begin with, he is not a crook or a womanizer. He takes nothing he hasn’t honestly earned. He is faithful to his wife, patient with his children, and a trustworthy friend.
And, maybe more to the point, he is not like this publican. We need to be a bit more realistic about the publican. He is not some poor innocent puppy dog. He is a profit hungry opportunist, who is the worst kind of crook: a legal one. He operates his own little mafia style franchise in league with the Roman authorities that lets him collect – from the Jews, mind you, from the people whom the Romans might have had trouble finding, but whose whereabouts he knows and whose language he knows – that lets him collect all the money he can bleed off of them, all providing he pays the Romans an agreed upon flat fee. Now, this is just a parable so the publican is just your typical Jewish tax collector, which means that he lives high and rich. He makes himself more money than he would ever need all by threatening his own people and their children with the force of the law. For abusing his people, he should be brought before congress for an investigation into excessive corporate profits and be sent to prison, but instead he drives a stretched limo, drinks the finest of wines and has enough money left over for the nightly rental of a couple high dollar prostitutes. He is an extortioner, unjust and an adulterer. The man, quite frankly, is sick.
The Pharisee, however, is not only good; he is religious. And not just hypocritically religious either. His religion means something to him. He prays in the Temple, fasts twice a week and puts his money where his mouth is: ten percent off the top for God. If you can find a few good Lutherans like this one, I know of more than one congregation that would be happy to accept them into membership, no questions asked. In fact, I know of a couple seminaries that would be happy to recommend such a man to preach in your pulpit. But what does Jesus tell you about such a man? Not only that he is in bad shape, but that he is in worse shape than the scoundrel who is stinking up the sanctuary with the smell of boos and illicit perfume. In other words, he tells you an unacceptable parable.
And I think you know the meaning of the parable. You’ve heard it enough times. It doesn’t matter how good you are. You can’t please God and get to heaven for your good works. And, it doesn’t matter how bad you have been, God will forgive anyone who will repent and trust Christ for forgiveness. Your works are not part of the equation. You cannot approach God with the pride of your own righteousness.
Fine. You know what the parable means.
But, as soon as you’ve said you know what the parable means, you are almost immediately facing an even greater danger… the danger of thinking that there aren’t many men like this Pharisee, self-inflated, who refuse to see their need for grace. Men the likes of his arrogance are rare, you think. And there you would be wrong. We all alike, at times and to varying degrees, refuse to see our need for grace.
Look at the two men on the cover of your bulletin. Which of them are you? I know, I know. In your mind, you know which one you are supposed to be. But, your heart would like to be the other one, the one in the front.
You don’t believe me? Give me a chance to prove it to you. The publican goes down to his house justified rather than the other. Well and good, you say. But let me follow him now in your mind’s eye as goes about the next 7 days and comes at last to the Temple again to pray. What is it that you would like to see him doing during those seven days? After such a gift from God, what does your moral sense teach you to expect from him now? Are you not itching, as the man’s spiritual advisor, to nudge him into another line of work – something more honorable? Wouldn’t you like to see him now turn a new leaf? Don’t you feel compelled to insist on at least a little bit of reform?
Try this. Let say there is no reform. He doesn’t straighten up. He goes down to his house justified, and continues his sins – skimming, threatening, high priced Scotch, loose women. Put him through the same routine, eyes down, beating his breast, God be merciful, and all that. Now, on the basis of this parable, you understand that God will not change His ways. He will do with this repentant sinner exactly this week what He did last week. In short, He will send him down to his home justified again. The question for you is this: do you like that? And the answer, of course, is that you do not. Neither do I. But why not? The unfairness of it all. The rat is getting off free! It’s like God wants to forgive his sins without any expectations!
At some point, we have to honestly admit to ourselves that while we understand the general thrust of this parable with our minds, our hearts are different. Our hearts have a desperate need to believe it’s exact opposite. We are in the constant spiritual danger of becoming like the Pharisee. We would like to insist that the publican at least try to do better, at least do some good things, in order to stay in God’s grace. I mean, if God’s gonna love him, accept him and shower him with the blessings of Justification all for free, then what is the point of all my good works, all my saving up, all the time and fasting and tithing I’ve done. I’ve said to myself, “I know I’ve made mistakes, but at least I’m here at church in the middle of summer. That should count for something shouldn’t it? I may not be the best person in the world, but at least I know I’m not the best person in the world. At least I’m not like the Pharisee, who’s so judgmental. Thank you God, that I’m at least better than him.”
Ah, what am I to do with heart of mine, so vested in its own goodness, so bent on making its own way to God? My spiritual deceit and pride is so pervasive, so entrenched. How, with such a heart as mine, will I ever please God?
The answer: You won’t. You’ve got to let that go. Be emptied. Despair of yourself and your spiritual accomplishments. Jesus Christ came for the ungodly, not the mostly godly or the semi-godly. Jesus came to breathe life into the spiritually dead. Not to reform the reformable and to improve the improvable. You are no better than the Pharisee and you are no better than the publican… which is good. It means that Christ died even for you, for publicans and Pharisees alike, for extortioners, the unjust and adulterers. Do you have sins like the publican? Are you afraid and ashamed? Don’t worry. They are forgiven. Go to your home justified. Are you proud of your spiritual accomplishments? Don’t worry. That is also forgiven. All these weaknesses, these failures and shameful decisions, are universally covered once and for all under the blood of Jesus Christ.
The danger of the Pharisee is that he would insist that God accept his own filthy righteousness as good enough. But not you. For you, there is another righteousness, the perfect righteousness of Jesus Christ, a gift to you, given without cost through the Gospel. Only this righteousness is good enough. Open wide your hands and let go of whatever goodness you were hoping to offer to God. Let it fall to the ground. But, keep you hands open, open wide your mouth and receive there a righteousness that is not your own. It is better. It lasts forever. And no one can take it away from you.
Eat and drink. And then, go down to your home justified. Amen.
Tags: trinity
