Gospel text for Sunday 23 October 2022

 Luke 18:9-14       Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 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. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' 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!' 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.”

Reflection        Have you ever overheard someone spewing a list of laments about a person or group of “those unworthy people” while assuming a morally superior stance insisting “I am not like that? I would never do such things?” And while we are excavating, shall we be painfully honest? Have you ever heard yourself rehearsing your exceptional credentials, thanking God that you are not like “those disreputable people?” 

Being a respected religious man who goes to the synagogue for all of the appointed prayers, steers clear of contact with undesirable folk and exceeds the biblical obligation to give ten percent of his income to the temple, the Pharisee in Luke’s text assumes he is in God’s favor.. But Jesus does not concur. When Jesus commends the sinful tax collector for humbly petitioning God for mercy, Jesus turns the Pharisee’s self-righteous assumptions upside down. The upstanding Pharisee is shocked.  

I am willing to wager that when most of us hear this teaching tale comparing the Pharisee and the tax collector, we identify with the pious Pharisee. We go to church, say the appointed prayers, we read books and blogs about scripture, we steer clear of contact with undesirable people and fulfill our biblical obligation to give ten percent of our income to the Church (well, maybe not so much). We trust in ourselves and believe we deserve God’s grace. So, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Pharisee our eyes glaze over when Jesus commends our law breaking neighbors and condemns us to humility.

I believe this troublesome teaching tale requires we take out the windex, wipe the dust off our mirrors to look through a new perspective. “Yes, there I am.  No, I am not a thief, a scoundrel, or two-faced deceiver. I worked for everything I have and I give sensibly to my church.  Just look at me Lord. I am not like those reprehensible people.  I am pious and practice the way of perfection. I am law abiding and above reproach.”  But our flourishes hold no sway with Jesus who roundly rejects our litany of “look at me” statements.  In a sleight of hand that we do not foresee Jesus brings us to our knees. 

From our corrected perspective we listen to  Jesus’ confounding comment just a few sentences following this text. While blessing the little children Jesus admonishes us,  “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18.17) 

Again we join the Pharisee protesting. “How can this be? We are meant to read, mark, study, digest and keep God’s law. Children cannot even read! They do not know the law and furthermore, they have nothing to offer God.” Can you see Jesus scratching his head, screwing up his eyes and muttering, “Precisely! Children never presume they have anything to give to God or anyone else. Guileless and unguarded children simply turn to the One from whom their blessings flow. Children and admitted sinners stand naked before God. Being empty, open and receptive they are available to receive God’s favor.”

Mirroring cloudless contrast between those who put their trust in themselves and those who put their trust in God, Jesus is crystal clear.  There is only one way to be in right relationship with God. Humbly. Those who exalt themselves will be deflated, disgraced and degraded. Those who humble themselves will be filled, favored and pure.

Oh, Jesus, this is hard. Too hard. From the time we are tiny children we are told to prove ourselves, master the world, and accumulate the social, political and religious badges of success. I do not know about you but I cannot count the times my child self heard, “What have you got to show for yourself young lady? What have you done to deserve being here? God helps those who help themselves?” Not until I was well on my way to old did I receive the counsel “To receive the wisdom of the wise you must be empty, open and receptive.” Even then this sage advice did not come from the Christian tradition. It came to me through Taoist wisdom tales.

Assuming the unaffected sincerity of children we find a new perspective. Now cheek to jowl with the tax collector in today’s gospel text, we  are “standing far off… not even look(ing) up to heaven, but beating our breast and saying, `God, be merciful to me, a sinner!'. Just in case your eyebrows scowl and your alarms howl when you hear the word, ’sinner,’ relax. This is not an invitation to self loathing and flagellation. This is a summons to a new perspective.

If sin means we miss the mark and the mark is right relationship with God, then being a sinner means we are turned away from God. A sure and certain way for us to know we are turned away from God is when we hear ourselves announcing our virtues instead of humbling ourselves and proclaiming the goodness and mercy of God. This is why Jesus insists we stop singing our holier than thou sonnets and turn to the One from whom we receive all blessings, blessings we only receive when we are open, empty and receptive as unspoiled children.

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Gospel text for Sunday 28 July 2013

Luke 11:1-13     Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples." He said to them, "When you pray, say:

Father, hallowed be your name.

Your kingdom come.

Give us each day our daily bread.

And forgive us our sins,

for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.

And do not bring us to the time of trial."                                                                                                                                                       

And he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.' And he answers from within, `Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.' I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Reflection    Can you imagine the disciples, a motley crew kicking up a cloud of dust, as they return from wherever they were while Jesus visited Martha and Mary and find Jesus “in a certain place” praying? Can you see them, some lying some sitting in the shade of a drooping tree, waiting for Jesus? Can you hear their grovelly conversation? “You never know where you are going to find him. He just wanders off and prays.” “He prays a lot.” “I wonder if he prays the formal prayers and psalms the Levites pray in the Temple?” “I don’t know. He seems spontaneous. Prays whenever he wants, where ever he is.“ “Do you suppose he prays the way John does?” “Why don’t you ask him?” 

We’ll never know which one of the disciples said to Jesus, “Lord teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” We do know several things. Jesus taught the disciples to pray a formal prayer and to directly address God. He understood the relationship between the disciples and God whom they addressed in prayer was profoundly personal, like that of a child and it’s father; a child completely dependent on her father to keep her “from times of trial,” to forgive her missteps and mistakes, to provide for her need in the present moment. There is no more need for the disciple to go on and on telling God what to do and how to do it than there is for a child to tell her father how to provide for her. 

Still, there is more than the external form and repetition of the words (which I have to admit for me sometimes can fly out of my mouth much like my eye blinks in a puff of wind).  Rather than outlining a strict regimen for saying their prayers (such as at the three times each day of Temple sacrifice) or instructing the disciples to pray in designated holy places, Jesus used two allegories or stories to describe the interior state of consciousness the disciples (and we) are to bring to our prayers; bold persistance and innocent receptivity.

We are to be bold in directly addressing God, no less so than calling on a friend at midnight and demanding help. (How would you respond if I called and asked you to bring me a loaf of bread and bottle of wine in the middle of the night?) We are to be persistent in expecting a response, and unshakable in believing that it will be good. (I would only call you if I knew I could count on your goodness and patience). At the same time we are to be innocent as children, honest and guileless, neither offending nor taking offense. (I call and ask without having an expectation for a particular outcome). Because into this state of open-hearted receptivity we receive the greatest gift, God’s own Holy Spirit, and God’s kingdom is come. 

Luke 23.1-49 Reflections on Passion Sunday text

Almost everyone was accusing Jesus of things he didn’t do and things he didn’t say. The Roman soldiers, the Jewish officials, the chief priests and scribes, even the people who only days before gathered to hear him teach and to be healed – they were all in a frenzy accusing Jesus. Only Pilate and King Herod did not accuse him. They found Jesus innocent, actually three times. But in the end they too were implicated in the wrongful death of an innocent man because both Herod and Pilate failed to use their authority to oppose the crowds that were swept away in an emotional fervor. The two men in authority failed to execute truth and justice. An innocent man was crucified and died.

When I ask myself, “Who are the bad guys?” I have to answer, “Everyone.” That makes me nervous. I wonder what I would have done if I was in that crowd? I wonder what I would have done if I was one of the priests, or King Herod or Pilate? When have I stood by and let an innocent person be slandered or wrongfully accused? When have I watched and done nothing when innocent people have been mistreated? Misunderstood? Judged? Condemned? Neglected? Forgotten? Abused? Too many times I haven’t slowed down to walk with an elderly person. Too many times I have not stopped, looked into a homeless person’s eyes and offered them a blessings. Too many times I’ve listened to hostile gossip. Too many times I have judged the people I say I love. Yes – I am one of the crowd, I am one of the officials who failed to exercise my authority and I have crucified an innocent man.

Still, that is not cause to despair. Then Jesus said, “”Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” In some bibles this verse appears in brackets because scholars cannot agree if it was in the original text and at some point was cut out, or if it was a later addition to the text. What matters to me is that it is there now, and I am grateful. Jesus’ words are an incredible affirmation of our human condition, “…they do not know what they are doing.” Isn’t that the truth! I cannot for a minute believe that the entire assembly of Roman soldiers, Jewish officials, chief priests, scribes and ordinary people were ill willed or evil. Nor can I believe that Herod and Pilate were inherently bad. I cannot believe that any more than I can believe I am ill willed or evil when I fail to seek and serve and save the suffering people in my world.

Who among us is innocent? Blameless? Pure and free of wrongdoing? Let me suggest that the answer is – not one of us is innocent. And the good news is we are forgiven because we are the beloveds of God, just the way we are. Does that mean we have license to be corrupt, self-serving or live without regard for the consequences of our behavior? Absolutely not. What it means is when we inevitably act and reveal that we “know not what we are doing,” we are already forgiven. Thanks be to God.