"Forgive Us Our Trespassing" by Banksy |
October 23, 2016
Luke 18:9-14
9Jesus
told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous
and regarded others with contempt: 10"Two men went up to the
temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The
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. 12I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' 13But
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!' 14I
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."
Sermon: “Pride and Prayerfulness”
A
businessman needed a million dollars to close an important business
transaction. He went to church to pray for the money.
He
knelt and started praying next to a man who was praying for the hundred dollars
he needed to pay an urgent debt. The businessman took out his wallet and
pressed the hundred dollars into the other man's hand.
Overjoyed,
the man got up and left the church.
The
businessman then closed his eyes and prayed, "And now, Lord, that I have
your undivided attention..."
Our
prayers reveal much about who we really are.
Take the Pharisee and the tax collector in our Gospel reading this morning. The former heaped up lots of words: “God, thank you that I’m not like thieves,
rogues, my political opponents and,” with a sideward glance to the tax
collector next to him, “this guy.” Then
he started listing his pious assets to God (as if God needed to hear it): “I
fast (and then have a nice lamb dinner), and I give a solid 10% of my income
(and not one denarius more).”
The
tax collector didn’t seem too offended, because he was at the temple to pray,
not to get the approval of others. He
hung his head with humility, and prayed the most true and authentic prayer
there is, “God,
be merciful to me, a sinner!”
What
do we pray, I wonder? Do we approach God
with humility and reverence, or as just another entity we need to prove our
worth to? How we pray says everything
about who we are. It also says who we
believe God is.
Prayer
is the bold act of asserting the truth that God is God, and we are not.
This
means we do not get to speak for God. We
do not get to choose whom God favors and doesn’t. We don not even get to bend God to our will
so we will have financial or societal success.
Instead, we come, before the Creator of all that is and ever will be,
and we wait, with complete humility. We
recognize that, because we are not God, we are not perfect, and no amount of
our striving and self-righteousness will get us there. We all sin.
All the time. (I think I’m
getting a spiritual high-five from John Calvin about now.)
We
all should try to pray the prayer of that faithful tax collector:
“God, be merciful to me, a
sinner!”
But
this powerful prayer isn’t just about sin.
It is also about mercy. For just
as sin is part of the human condition (that when given the choice, we will
often choose the selfish path), so is grace part of the divine condition (that,
when given the choice, God will always choose to forgive).
God
is merciful, not because we impress God with our fancy words or spiritual gold
stars. God is merciful because that is who God is. Mercy and grace are woven into the very
character of God, and so when, like that tax collector, we cry out for mercy,
God listens, and acts, in extraordinary and everyday ways.
Mercy
comes, sometimes how we least expect it.
Forgiveness is given. Repentance
is realized. And we become better human
beings. Not perfect, not gods, but
better, more humble, versions of who we are.
Can
you imagine what the world would be like if we all practiced such humility?
What
if we saw someone who angered us greatly, and instead of praying to God for
judgment on them, or vindication for ourselves, we prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”
What
if we responded to great need in our community not by saying “there but by the
grace of God, go I,” but instead, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” and let acts
of gratitude grow out of the mercy we receive from God?
What
if we found ourselves in a heated political or theological debate, and instead
of shoring up our battle lines, paused and admitted that none of us are perfect
or have a monopoly on the truth, and prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”
What
if we approached the world, not with national superiority or inflated pride,
but instead named our complicity in ecological, economic and humanitarian
crises, saying, “God, be merciful to me, a
sinner!”
What
would this world look like if we all prayed like that humble tax
collector? I think it might become a
planet saturated with the mercy of God.
And,
let us remember that God’s mercy is no small thing. God’s mercy can spare children from
violence. God’s mercy can bring slaves
freedom. God’s mercy can make even
broken powers and principalities agents of healing. God’s mercy can make stones
of hatred fall to the ground, emptied of their destructive power. God’s mercy can make strangers become
family. God’s mercy can make an
instrument of state death an instrument of hope and salvation. God’s mercy can make a tomb a place of
resurrection joy. God’s mercy can grow a
tree with leaves that heal the nations, and a river whose waters bring life,
not death, wherever they flow.
As
Pope Francis said[1],
“God’s mercy can make even the driest land become a garden, can restore life to
dry bones…Let us be renewed by God’s mercy, let us be loved by Jesus, let us
enable the power of his love to change our lives too, and let us become agents
of this mercy,
channels through which God can water the earth, protect all creation and make
justice and peace flourish.”
Thanks
be to the God whose name is Mercy, to the Savior who forgave even his
executioners, and to the Spirit who helps us pray, “God, be merciful to me, a
sinner!” and then change the world with the mercy we receive. Amen.