23rd Sunday after Pentecost
October 23, 2016
Luke 18:9-14
Watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVye_UMFsn4
There are a few things I’ve learned about myself as a
parent that I didn’t know before. The first time I thought, “oh great, I’m
going to be one of those parents,”
was the first time I left Isabel to go to church by myself. She was about 3
months old. I had returned from maternity leave, but was bringing her with me
to the church office every day. Then there was one day when it really wouldn’t
have worked well for her to be there and so I arranged with my mom for her to
keep Isabel for the day. As I drove away from my house, leaving my first baby
behind for the first time, I was in tears. Apparently, I’m one of those parents who cry when they leave
their child for the first time. And, apparently, I’m one of those parents who buy and read books on
parenting. The last one I picked up came out earlier this year and is called
“Unselfie: Why Empathetic Kids Succeed in Our All-About-Me World.” The author,
Dr. Michele Borba, is an educational psychologist who’s often called in as the
child expert or parenting expert on shows like Dr. Phil, Dr. Oz, as well as on
the nightly news. She begins by talking about how teens today are 40% less
empathetic than those of 30 years ago, and combined with today’s culture of
self-absorption and all-about-me, it creates a population of kids who can’t
relate well to others. Working well with others, as you know, is key to being a
contributing member of society as an adult.
Our Gospel lesson this morning was a story that Jesus
told “to certain people who had convinced themselves that they were righteous
and who looked on everyone else with disgust.”[1]
This is a group who is self-righteous, who has justified everything they do in
their own eyes, who can’t do any wrong, as far as they’re concerned. More than
that, they look down on everyone else. You know, “I’m right, and y’all are
wrong.” Or, “my way or the highway.” Or, simply, people who think they’re
better than everyone else. To them, Jesus tells this parable about two people
praying, a Pharisee and a tax collector. The Pharisee prays loudly and prays
about himself so that everyone can hear him and know what good things he’s
done. It’s kind of like a passive-aggressive way to brag. You don’t directly tell people all the good stuff
you’ve done; you tell God and make
sure other people overhear you. Then there’s the tax
collector. He stands apart, by himself, and doesn’t even look up to heaven.
He’s probably half-mumbling, half-whispering the words, “God, have mercy on me,
a sinner.” Jesus says the tax collector was the one who went home right with
God, not the Pharisee.
I started off thinking that the Pharisee was a good
example of this self-absorption and selfie culture we live in. You know, focus on
me, look at me, look at how good I am and all the good things I do. Yet the
more I read this parenting book about teaching kids empathy in order to combat
the selfies, the more I felt empathy toward the Pharisee. Why was he praying so that everyone could hear him? Why was he boasting of his good works?
Why did he feel he had to point out to God that he was better than other
sinners, or at least committed more minor sins than other people? Did he not
get enough validation of his good deeds at
home? Did people not thank him
enough for his charitable contributions? Did he think God didn’t notice what he was doing? Did he just
want someone to notice him, even if
it was negative attention? Did he just want someone to listen?
At Charge Conference this past week, our District Superintendent,
Rev. DeLong, talked about listening and how a lot of people just want someone
to listen to them. They don’t want us to fix
their problems; they want us to listen
to their problems. When we’re absorbed in ourselves and our own problems, we
don’t spend a lot of time and energy listening to others’ problems. When each
of us is focused on ourselves, we’re not listening to each other. Who listens
to you? Your spouse? A friend? A bartender? When was the last time you felt
really listened to? And how do you
try to be heard?
The Pharisee, obviously, went about it in the wrong way. He
didn’t sit down over coffee with his rabbi or call up a good friend. He didn’t
tell his wife. Instead, he’s out in the public square, where everyone can hear
him, and he wants everyone to hear him. He wants some public affirmation that
he is a good person. He wants someone… to listen to him. And so we hear his
story. He thinks he’s not like everyone else; he thinks he’s exceptional. He’d
probably be the first to say he’s not perfect, but he doesn’t think he’s as bad
as other people. He doesn’t have a criminal record, he’s not a thief, and he
doesn’t cheat on his wife. He regularly fasts and tithes. He thinks he does
pretty good, and he wants someone to notice and appreciate it. He’s a good
Pharisee. Yet… that doesn’t make him right with God.
It’s very tempting to start judging the Pharisee.
Pharisees were the group that were very strict about keeping to the letter of
the law, all of the laws. It’s easy to point out that the law doesn’t say don’t
cheat on your wife, it says love and honor her. One of the ten commandments
does say don’t steal, but another one says don’t even covet, don’t want what
isn’t yours. It’s easy to pick apart what’s wrong with this picture. And yet,
there he is, praying loudly in front of the temple, wanting to be heard. So,
today, instead of sitting in judgment on him, let’s validate and affirm what he
does right.
Let’s start with those spiritual disciplines. Pharisees
were a very disciplined sect. They were very good at self-control, which is one
of the fruits of the Spirit, by the way. You have to be self-disciplined in
order to do something like fast. You have to be able to control your impulses
and wait for delayed gratification when you go all day without eating on purpose. That really is impressive. Then the other spiritual
discipline the Pharisee tells everyone about is that he tithes, he gives ten
percent. Again, generosity is another of the fruits of the Spirit. He gives
away a tenth of everything he
receives. Not many of us Christians even do that. Personally, I think the
church would be in a much better shape if everyone was generous and
self-disciplined with their time, talent, and treasure. But generosity and
self-control and all spiritual disciplines have to be cultivated and nurtured
and practiced. And the Pharisee does that.
He spends his time and his energy on things that are supposed to draw him
closer to God. That is always to be commended.
Yet, he seems to be looking for public affirmation and
approval and that’s not how spiritual disciplines work. Many spiritual
disciplines no one knows you’re doing; they just see the side effects of a
person who is freer with their love and their belongings. You see, I think the
Pharisee is doing the right things for the wrong reasons. I think he’s so
caught up in following the law of Moses so precisely that he’s missing the
spirit of the law, which involves care for the widow and the orphan, the lonely
and the outcast. He’s missing the love, and so he’s looking for it in the
public square. He’s crying out for someone to hear him, for someone to validate
and affirm that yes, he’s doing everything right. Yet he’s doing it by exalting
himself and belittling others. “I
thank you, God, that I’m not like everyone else.” What kind of prayer is that?
He wants everyone to know that he thinks he’s exceptional, that his sins aren’t
as bad as others. The Catholic Church
has a hierarchy of sins, mortal sins, which condemn you to hell if they stay
unforgiven, and then venial sins, or lesser sins, which hurt your relationship
with God but can’t break it. However, the bible says “all have sinned and fall
short of the glory of God”[2];
it doesn’t say that some fall less short than others. It doesn’t say that there
is a way to not be under judgment,
which I think is what this Pharisee is after. I think he wants his good works
and keeping God’s law to save him, yet that’s not how it works. None of us are exceptional. None of us are
exempt from judgment.
So, after you’ve listened to people like the Pharisee,
after you’ve really heard them (and
that judgment comes from the person, not from you; it’s not that you feel like you heard them but that they feel listened to), then you can
respond as appropriate. They may need a hug, they may need cheering up, they
may need reassurance that they are, in fact, doing everything right. Jesus
said, “the tax collector, and not the Pharisee, was in the right with God when
he went home.” So, what did the Pharisee need when he went home? How could the
Pharisee have made himself right with God? Jesus tells the parable basically to
tell us to be like the tax collector and not like the Pharisee, but I think we
all know people like the Pharisee, if not even identify with him ourselves. Jesus
wouldn’t tell us to be the tax collector if we weren’t already the Pharisee. Was
the Pharisee’s sin that he was proud? Did he have self-esteem issues? Did he
just need someone to listen to him?? Someone, not to sympathize, but to
empathize with him? Sympathy is feeling for
another person; empathy is feeling with
them.
I’m reading another book, not a parenting one, called
“It’s Not Fair” by Melanie Dale. She has a whole chapter on 100 things you can
do to help someone who’s hurting. A lot of times we say or do the wrong thing.
We think we’ve listened, but our friend doesn’t feel listened to. We say or do
something stupid. Or we haven’t said or done anything at all, because we just
don’t know what to say or do. You
know, what do you say after you’ve just heard that Pharisee’s public
confession? He thinks he’s better than everyone else. Unless he thinks you’re
exceptional, too, he might not listen to you. So, my challenge to you this week is to make
the time and space to really listen to someone. Listen to them. Show God’s love
to them just by listening; nothing more. And if you need listening to, figure out how you can make that happen and
who you need to call to listen to you.
Let us pray…
