Sunday, October 23

First Congregational Church
October 23, 2022
20th Sunday after Pentecost
Luke 18:9-14
“Righteous and/or/vs. Justified: Does It Matter?”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

I heard about a fifth grader who came home from school so excited. She had been voted "prettiest girl in the class." The next day she was even more excited when she came home because the class had voted her "the most likely to succeed." The next day she came home and told her mother she had won a third contest, being voted "the most popular.” But the next day she came home extremely upset. The mother said, "What happened, did you lose this time?" She said, "Oh no, I won the vote again." The mother said, "What were you voted this time?" She said, "most stuck up.”
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It’s interesting how we know - or don’t know - how we should - or shouldn’t feel about certain things in life. I can’t imagine the pressure parents feel to do their best to raise good human beings and balance the rest of life at the same time. And any teacher worth their salt knows that their subject matter is at least as important as the life skills they pass on. Then there is the pressure - not only for parents, but all of us - to blend in with our cultures and peers. Being good human beings is not easy.

It was late New Year's Day when the showdown finally came. The number one and two college bowl teams in the nation were set to fight it out in the Fiesta Bowl at Tempe, Arizona, deciding who would lay claim to being the "Beast of the East" and the best in the nation.

Among those who predict such things, there was agreement that the nation's number one team would remain number one that night. Their passing attack had been unstoppable all season long, and it would remain so. A high-scoring game was predicted. Both predictions were wrong.

A defensive struggle prevailed, and the number one team was upset and beaten. Interviews and national news stories alike toyed with the obvious question: "How did you stop their passing attack?" Several strategies had been employed, such as mixing up defensive formations, intimidating receivers by hard tackling, and of special significance, watching the mannerisms of the quarterback. Careful study of earlier films had discovered that he "telegraphed" the direction of a pass. "How did you stop him?" "We watched his eyes!” As we hear this morning’s scripture passage, pay attention to the eyes.

Luke 18:9-14 The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector 9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: 10 "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men - robbers, evildoers, adulterers - or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.' 13 "But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.' 14 "I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Thank you, Liz. When I first read this passage, it felt “off,” and I didn’t really get why until five or six readings later, I finally read the passage aloud. The words, especially those from the tax collector, could be woven into an anthem that might be called, “Minnesota Nice.” Minnesota Nice is not just being polite, but in its true sense, it can be self-denigrating even to the point of causing mental health issues, if one is not careful. And yes, it’s a real thing, because it took a long time to realize that I was not - literally -  lower than worm slime.

I doubt there are many of us who would argue with the idea that impressions can be deceiving - especially first impressions. In the 15th century, in the great cathedral of Florence Italy, Dominican friar Girolamo Savonarola began his preaching career. One day he noticed a particular elderly woman who had gone every day to the cathedral to pray before a statue of Mary.

Savonarola remarked one day to another priest who had been serving in the cathedral for many years, "Look how devoted and earnest this woman is. Every day she comes and offers prayers to the statue of Mary. What a marvelous act of faith." But the other priest replied, "Do not be deceived by what you see. Many years ago when the sculptor needed a model to pose for this statue of the blessed Mother, he hired a beautiful young woman to sit for him. This devout worshiper you see here every day is that young woman. She is worshiping whom she used to be.”

Whether it’s good writing or translation or our own cognitive abilities, we know both immediately and intuitively that the Pharisee’s prayer should not be our prayer: “Dear God, I thank you that I am not like other people.” Even so, it’s an interesting irony that the Pharisee in the parable is made to be the bad guy, while everything he has attested to is true. It was true that he wasn’t like other men because his standard of morality was higher than the other standards of the day.

Pharisees fasted on Mondays and Thursdays and gave a tenth of all they possessed - on the gross and not the net - which was above the requirements of regular people under the Law of Moses. And if he were a real person, he no doubt would have/could have been faithful to his wife, dealt fairly with those with whom he came in contact, and not throw others under the bus, as we say these days. But all the Pharisees did that, so it wasn’t really that big of a deal. The subtle innuendo of his prayer was his comparison to the tax collector.

Even though it’s a parable, everything the tax collector said was also true. He worked for the Roman government, collecting taxes from his fellow Jews, the funds that would pay for the occupation of the tax collector and his people by the Romans. Tax collectors weren’t paid by the Romans, but added their own “compensation” to the amounts they collected, so they didn’t really take advantage of their situations, as much as they often gouged their own people into being held hostage by the Romans. The irony is that while the tax collector is made out to be the bad guy, he’s actually more forthright than his counterpart.

In our modern day, we don’t use the word righteous so much anymore, probably because it sounds a little too self-righteous. We probably use the word “successful” more often. Senior pastor at Mount Olivet Lutheran Church in Minneapolis, Rev. Dr. David J. Lose put a the point perfectly.

“If you are good at investment banking, you are righteous according to the standards of Wall Street. If you’re popular at school, we might say you are socially righteous. And if you love college basketball, then each March you get to delight in watching a number of teams that are righteous on the court. In the Pharisee’s case, he is successful at keeping the law of Israel.”

Louisiana Episcopalian Bishop and author, James Owensby said that “Strictly speaking, he’s bragging to God about his religious accomplishments and expecting divine applause. Then again, maybe he’s just talking to himself, singing “How Great I Art.”

Remember when I mentioned paying attention to the eyes in our scripture passage? As the Pharisee looked out or up, he was actually looking inwardly. The tax collector, while his eyes looked down, his soul faced God.

The tax collector didn’t really have anything to boast about and no one looked at him as a success or called him righteous. He was a failure at keeping the law, and in fact, his very neighbors – off of whom he makes his living – probably despised him. And because he knew all that, he stood at the edge of the Temple.

And that’s the one Jesus said is justified, the one who looked for mercy. Righteousness is about what we accomplish and our successes, being justified is being called righteous - no matter what we have done - but simply because God says so.

And because I can’t be the only one thinking it, we need to be careful in sorting out this “righteous and/or/vs. justification” thing, because we may be tempted to pray the insidious prayer, “Thank you, God, that we are not like other people: hypocrites, overly pious, self-righteous, or even like that Pharisee.”

We can go to church each week, listen attentively to the sermon, give our offering, and learn that we should always be humble.” We may be righteous in our own right, but we are not justified in our own right, because righteousness, success and accomplishments are never enough. We will always fall short because they are about comparisons, measured relative to how the people around us are doing.

Putting aside all politics and devotions, apparently, after winning Super Bowl 45, which was the fulfillment of a childhood dream, being named Most Valuable Player of that same game, putting up hundreds of points on scoreboards over the years, just a couple of hours after the game, apparently all Green Bay quarterback, Aaron Roger thought was “Is this all there is to life?”

Bishop James Owensby pointed out a subtle point with the response of the tax collector. He said, “Some readers assume (the tax collector) means “I’ve done wrong. Please don’t punish me like I deserve.” Owensby goes on, “I think we get to Jesus’ point more clearly if we hear him saying, “Have compassion on me, God. My life is killing me!” Or, to use one of Anne Lamott’s favorite prayers, “Help! Help! Help!”

God’s compassion saves us. Heals us. Sustains us. Liberates us. God is always pouring out that compassion because that is just who God is. God’s compassion is not a reward for or a reaction to something we do or say. Compassion is God’s unchanging way of being.

Divine compassion comes in many forms: a phone call when we’re lonely, a hike in the woods, a casserole when we’re grieving, or a dog’s relentless love. That compassion begins making us whole once we admit that we need it.
Author, Bill Bouknight, in his book “How Do You Measure Greatness” put it into comic strip understanding. When Bart Simpson does something wrong, he feels entitled. When Charlie Brown does something wrong, he feels humility. That spectacular preacher, Rev. Dinah Haag said, “Entitlement makes us hard and prone to breakage. Humility makes us pliable and able to withstand whatever comes our way.” I suggest we pray.

Compassionate and Loving God, thank you for seeing us for who we really are, even when such vision can make us feel naked or vulnerable or intimidated. Thank you for the healing of your compassion, which seeks to not only make us whole, but more balanced and more able to withstand the rigors of life. Sometimes our passions and energies get us into trouble, and we look in all the wrong places but at you. Give us the inspiration to get ourselves back on track, which is laid with your desire of a parent for their child to do well, certainly, but more importantly, to be well - in you. Inspire those around us, who may be struggling with entitlements and humility, to want to find out more about our reasons for following you, as all your people say, Amen.