Honest Prayers and God's Grace [Luke 18:9-14 - Proper 25C]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Luke 18:9-14

Honest Prayers and God’s Grace

Now, you can say what you want about the Pharisee in today’s Gospel, but I’ll tell you this: the man is honest.  I have no doubt that he meant every word he prayed.  “God, I just, I just want to thank you…thank you…that I am not like other people.  Thank you for making me so much better than the rest of these disgusting humans – a collection of thieves, rogues, and adulterers.  And, you know, while I am offering you this beautiful prayer of thanksgiving, let me add this: Thank you for making me better than that guy, that guy over in the corner.  Amen.”  That is an honest prayer.  I mean, most people think stuff like that.  But not many people are bold enough and confident enough to pray that.  And so for all the flaws that the Pharisee does have, at least he is honest; his prayer is heart-felt.

And what about that guy across the room, the one beating his breast in isolation?  Well, he’s a pretty easy target.  Tax collector.  Tax collectors were not a popular crew back in the days of the Roman Empire.  Tax collectors, like the man in today’s parable, were contracted to collect taxes from their own people to support the Roman occupation – like an oppression tax – the people paid good money to not have freedom. So if you think you don't like taxes today, imagine how the 1^st century Jews felt.  And then imagine how they felt about the people who made that system possible, people like this tax collector.

It was a rare person who was willing to go door to door extracting these taxes. There were no good work days, no pleasant interactions. A tax collector was a traitor who peddled treachery like a kid on Halloween who only does trick and never treat. Like many scoundrels over the centuries, tax collectors built their fortune on a foundation of questionable ethics, oppressive politics, and a willingness to be hated. And so it is no surprise that this Pharisee, the one with the honest prayers, is glad that he is not like that tax collector.

The man was doing a morally compromising job, and he was a human, and so he was a sinner.  And given his occupation, which inspires very little mercy from his neighbors, he probably was desperate to experience God’s mercy.  And so I think it is safe to assume that the Pharisee was not the only man in the temple that day praying honest prayers.  Both men were praying from the heart.

Now we know, because of how the parable plays out and because of the way Jesus frames the story, that the Pharisee is kind of the bad guy, if you will, of the episode.  He goes home unjustified.  His destiny seems to include ample humiliation.  We are supposed to, it seems, see the tax collector as worthy of emulation – even though, let’s be honest, nobody really wants to be like that tax collector – for the reasons noted above.

Also, nobody wants to be like the Pharisee, again, because of the reasons I previously mentioned.  Ironically, the result of the parable, historically, is that most of the listeners, upon hearing it, respond by praying, “God, I thank you that I am not like that Pharisee.”  Which was probably not Jesus’ goal.

But what is Jesus’ goal?  It can’t be for his audience to hold the Pharisee in contempt.  Jesus doesn’t really seem to like when people hold others in contempt.  And the Pharisee actually does a lot of good stuff.  We covered the honesty piece.  But it is not just that.  He fasts, twice a week.  The Book of Common prescribes two fast days – each year.  And even that is not easy or terribly popular.  So this Pharisee was an excellent faster.  And fasting is a spiritual discipline encouraged in the Hebrew Scriptures.  Moses, for example, fasted before receiving the Ten Commandments – and, I’m not saying he was bragging, but he even told people about it – like the Pharisee.  That the Pharisee fasts is a good thing.

And he tithes – a fine practice, one that the Annual Giving ministers and I encourage.  You should have received your pledge card this week in the mail.  Again, the Pharisee is being faithful to the Bible; he is taking the Bible seriously.  The Law and Prophets repeatedly encourage the practice.  The Pharisee is so dedicated to the tithe, in fact, that he doesn’t even ask whether the ten percent is pre- or post-tax.  He tithes on all of his income.  That the Pharisee tithes is a good thing.

So the problem with the Pharisee is not that he prays and tithes and fasts.  Those are laudable practices – important in the lives of many, many faithful people.  Likewise, the virtue of the tax collector is not found in his questionable morals or his friendly relationship with oppressors.  Jesus’ originally audience would understand that the Pharisee’s daily practices were far preferable to those of the tax collector.  Obviously.  Unqualified, a life of prayer and Bible Study is decidedly more godly than going door to door busting heads and squeezing the last coins out of some widows.  

But Jesus didn’t tell this parable to some folks who were trying to write a Rule of Life.  If he did, the Pharisee might end up in the more heroic role.  Jesus told this parable to some people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.  And that is the Pharisee’s problem.  And, let’s be honest, this Pharisee is not unique, neither is his issue.  Which is probably why Jesus told this parable.  I don’t know about you, but I have certainly regarded others with contempt.  Probably I’ve even muttered the Pharisee’s prayer under my own breath a time of two: thank you God that I am not like these other people.

This parable captures something very honest about the human experience.  Jesus knows there is something of this Pharisee in each of us but also we all know what it feels like to be the lonely person in the corner.  The tax collector stood in the corner because he was sure no one could love him; we’ve all been there.  The Pharisee stood in his corner because he was sure there were others who did not deserve his love; that’s pretty universal too.  We understand both of these characters; we’ve been them.  But in the parable there is a difference between these two men – one that matters to Jesus.  The Pharisee could fast with the best of them.  He prayed in the proper posture.  He tithed more than most.  But he still didn’t get it; he missed the point, which, of course, is grace. 

This parable is about the importance of grace.  The tax collector understood something about grace that the Pharisee did not.  No matter how good we are at self-deprivation or pious posturing, we still desperately need it.  We need grace.  Grace is that God loves and accepts us even when life falls apart – even when the fasts fade and the tithe comes up short.  Life gets messy and so God gives us grace.  God gives us grace as our constant companion on our journey of faith; grace finds its way into our lives even when we are too arrogant to ask for it.  God plants it in baptismal waters at the beginning of our journey.  And then hides it in our food, like a dog’s medicine, for the rest of our mortal lives.  Grace: this beautiful love cloaked in the simplicity of bread and wine.  God’s grace is why we can breathe each morning and rest at night.  It is what keeps us alive.

And it is the way God teaches us how to love each other.  When we come to recognize and accept our own deep reliance on God’s grace, it becomes easier, more natural, to love and to forgive others, to show others empathy and care.  They, like us, are all surviving on grace.  We are no better.  But also, we are no worse than the other mortals with whom we share this planet. 

And this is where the Pharisee’s prayer falls short.  It might be an honest prayer but theologically it is deeply flawed.  What the Pharisee seems not to understand is that, in the eyes of God, he is like other people.  We are all in this thing together – just a bunch of humans, broken and foolish and in need of mercy, but also just a bunch of humans made in the Divine image, loved unconditionally by the Creator of the Universe, and, of course, blessed to be entirely reliant on God’s perfect, abundant grace.