Sermon – first at Volmoed

Reading: Luke 18: 1-8 

At first glance this short parable from the Gospel according to Luke seems like a rare treat – a parable that is short, clear, and easy to grasp… but things are not always what they appear to be at first glance…

We have these two different people in prayer – a tax collector and a pharisee. And we’re sort of conditioned to hear these two characters as two stereotypes – one good and one sinister…

For the crowd gathered with Jesus, they might have heard two stereotypes as well – one good and one sinister. That would be the Pharisee as good and the tax collector as sinister. We tend to hear it the other way around with the pharisee as sinister – because when Pharisees turn up in the Gospels, they usually to cause trouble.

In Jesus time, tax collectors really were quite menacing people. Whatever else we may think of SARS, we don’t tend to think they are menacing. But in Jesus day, tax collectors worked, more or less, on commission. They collected money, took their portion off the top, and the rest went to the government. The incentive to “over-collect” is more than obvious. The incentive to use any means necessary is also obvious. Tax collectors were in the league of loan sharks, repo men, and bounty hunters.

Pharisees, on the other hand, were really among the most admired religious folks of their day. They were faithful and thoroughly devout. Today’s equivalent might be the leaders of the churches. They would be on administrative boards and leading prayers. They would be on Altar Guilds and Mother’s Unions. They knew the expectations and the guidelines of the tradition and were thoroughly devoted to them.

Jesus frequently has a hard time with Pharisees. But it’s not because they were bad or ill-intentioned people. The Pharisees were especially devoted to the way things were and had always been… And Jesus, to be honest, was a troublemaker. Jesus still is…

But in this little parable we have the Pharisee and the Tax Collector meeting up in worship. Their posture and their prayer tell quite a story. The Pharisee is described as standing by himself. Luke doesn’t say exactly where he stood, but we can guess it was in a prominent place. The tax collector, meanwhile, stands out of the way… eyes cast down… avoiding attention.

And then there are the prayers. “God, I thank you that I am not like other people” as

opposed to “God, be merciful to me, a sinner”. The Pharisee drips so much condescension we have to be careful not to step in the puddles. The tax collector epitomizes humility.

The parable might be telling us that our preconceptions of who is good and who is bad are unreliable.

This is an important lesson for our time. We are conditioned to think that those who are wealthy and comfortable must be doing something right – must be worthy of admiration and emulation. Sometimes they are… but not always. And sometimes those on the outcast side of society are worthy of admiration and emulation, but not always.

It’s easy to think in terms of stereotypes because they require no thought. They are quick. They don’t bog down in details. But in this short little parable, Jesus takes two stereotypes of his day – tax collector and pharisee – and scrambles them. By now, we have adopted Jesus’ scrambled versions as standard. But to grapple with this parable we have to re-scramble our stereotypes.

For the tax collector, the prayer is very simple. God be merciful to me, a sinner. If we were in the Eastern Orthodox tradition, we would hear this as the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” This prayer is not as common in the western tradition, but it is very much part of it. This prayer of the tax collector is one of the foundations of the Jesus Prayer.

The power of the Jesus Prayer, of the tax collector’s prayer, lies in its simple, brief, and direct nature. Proverbs tells us, where there are many words, sin is not lacking…

For the Pharisee, who does not seem to have gotten the memo about too many words, it’s a different story. “God, I thank you that I am not like other people…” He’s already passed the tax collector in length… And then he has to elaborate on just who it is that he is not like… more words… We next hear the things he admires most… about himself. How he fasts, how he tithes. He doesn’t have to say it, but we can see that pride is a big part of his prayer life.

Jesus has slipped in a subtle little note – our Pharisee tithes more than the law demands; a tenth of all his income when the expectation was that only part of his income needed to be tithed. And he fasts more than necessary. Fasting weekly was expected, but for our friend its twice a week.

Learned theologians would describe these as works of “supererogation” – going above and beyond the call of duty. Jesus seems to endorse this when he tells us to go the extra mile, or if someone needs our shirt to give a jacket as well. But Jesus is not promoting supererogation.

My works of supererogation are for my own benefit – a sort of storing up of divine brownie points, if you will. The Pharisee seems to expect something in return for his virtuous behavior. But in just the previous chapter of Luke, Jesus has told us that when we have done what is asked, we are to stop and say we are unworthy servants. We have done our duty. The Pharisee seems to be asserting just how very worthy he is.

We don’t know much about the tax collector, but I wonder if his great humility in prayer translates into action in his profession. Or could his great self-deprecation in prayer based on his awareness that he is a total scoundrel in his work.

It’s easy to be critical of the Pharisee’s arrogance, but the bigger issue in his prayer life is his total lack of compassion. And while the Tax Collector seems to have some sense of sorrow which could be part of compassion, we just don’t know.

So how does this inform our prayer these days?

Few of us would pray something like the Pharisee – thank God I’m not like those people. But if I’m being honest, I have to acknowledge that I’m not immune to that prayer. When I see Nyanga* on the way to the airport, the squalor and danger, I am glad that I don’t live like that. And I don’t want to single out South Africa – parts of the US are every bit as violent and squalid.

In the US, we are particularly prone to an ugly, biblical twist of blaming those in desperate circumstances for their circumstances – just as those helpful neighbors of Job who were quick to suggest that his own sin must have brought on his misery… It’s as if we were saying that the residents of Nyanga choose to live in danger, they should just make a different choice…

To pray in a meaningful way is to pray honestly. There is certainly no use in lying to

God… And so, perhaps, to start near where the Pharisee starts – thank God I am richly blessed… perhaps it’s a good place to start.

But then I must move to compassion. Throughout the Gospels Jesus seems to always move in the direction of compassion. Whether he’s facing the rich young man who can’t walk away from wealth or looking at the crowd who have played a major part in crucifying him, compassion is the direction in which Jesus moves. Compassion, like justice, is the expression of love.

The founder of the Order of the Holy Cross, James Huntington, teaches us that love must act. God loves the world – and so must we. That love must lead us to action. George MacLeod, founder of the Iona Community, felt that prayer that did not lead to action is not just empty, it is heresy.

Compassion, and its close friend justice, are what our world desperately needs. We pray that God will order our steps on the path of justice and loving compassion.

• People in the US may not be familiar with Nyanga. It is one of the oldest townships in Cape Town, established in the 1940s as Apartheid was ramping up. It is directly across the N2 Highway from Cape Town International Airport – so just about everyone flying into the Western Cape will drive past this township. It is home to approximately 60 thousand people, some in nice houses, but many in what is euphemistically called “informal” housing – as you see in the picture. Its distinction is being, perhaps, the most dangerous place in South Africa. It propels Cape Town to top 20 list of murderous cities worldwide. And yet – it is home for many people.