Sunday, October 27, 2019

Pentecost 20, Year C (2019)


Proper 25 :: Jeremiah 14: 7–10, 19–22 / Psalm 84: 1–6 / II Timothy 4: 6–8, 16–18 / Luke 18: 9–14
This is the homily prepared for St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker for Sunday, October 27, 2019.
 “A FAULTY PLATFORM”
(Homily text: Luke 18: 9–14)
Our Gospel text for this morning places before us the very familiar Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector (Tax Collector was translated as Publican, in older translations). Today’s parable, like the one heard last week (the Parable of the Unjust Judge), is one of many parables that Luke alone among the Gospel writers passes along to us.
And, as was the case with last week’s parable, Luke inserts an editorial remark prior to relating the parable, outlining exactly what the meaning and the application of the parable is meant to be. His preamble to today’s parable says, “He (Jesus) also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt.”
So, in the parable, the Pharisees stands, by himself, and prays, thanking God that he is not like others are, and especially not like that (hated) tax collector who’s standing nearby. The Pharisee then recounts all of his righteous deeds, keeping – as the Pharisees were keen to do – each and every minute detail of the law handed down by Moses.
A way to picture what’s going on here is to imagine that the Pharisee is standing on a platform, a fairly high one, high enough so that everyone around him could see him plainly. But the problem is that the Pharisee, while using the good planks of the Law of Moses, forget to put those planks together in a sound design, so that the platform would be sturdy and stable. Consequently, the Pharisee is standing on something that lacks a sure ability to support him safely….he has used good material (the Law), but for the purposes of promoting himself.
By contrast, the tax collector stands afar off, and won’t even lift his eye toward heaven. “Have mercy on me, O God, a sinner.” The tax collector has no platform at all to stand on, only the bare ground, and we might imagine that it is only by God’s great mercy that the ground doesn’t open around him and swallow him up, taking him away from God’s sight forever.
The tax collector has only one thing to offer, himself. Furthermore, he acknowledges that even the gift of himself is a shabby one, for he says that he is a sinner.
Now in the parable, the Lord reverses our normal expectation by declaring that it is the tax collector that goes away justified. Our expectation is that it would be the Pharisee, the one who’s burdened himself with enormous efforts to do everything the “right” way, who would find favor in God’s sight. (At this point, it’s worth noting that reversals of roles, and a turnabout of the normal expectation of things, is a favorite theme in Luke’s writing.)
If we’re honest with ourselves, we must admit that the gift we bring to God, the only gift we can bring, is ourselves. And when we bring that gift of ourselves, our hearts, minds, souls and bodies, we bring a gift that is stained with sin, one that is tattered and worn and nearly useless because the inherent goodness in all of those things has been distorted by our wayward and disobedient ways. But in God’s sight, the gift of ourselves is the very gift He cherishes the most. We can’t earn God’s favor, like the Pharisee tried to do, for our efforts are misguided and misshapen by sin’s cloudiness. The only thing we can do is to bring ourselves, and when we do, admit our unworthiness.
But that’s where God wants to begin with us. It’s a “zero-sum” deal. Only when we admit we have nothing of value to offer, then it is that God can say to us, “You are valuable to me, extraordinarily valuable.” So it is that God doesn’t leave us where He finds us, for God’s plan for us is to reshape and remold us into the full image of Christ. But that remolding and reshaping can only happen when the raw material of our hearts is softened by the awareness of our own unworthiness before God.
How, then, is our platform constructed? We have two choices, the ones that the Lord outlines in the parable we hear this morning: Have we, like the Pharisee, been putting the planks of our accomplishments and our good deeds together, but in a way that won’t support us when we step atop what we’ve made? To be sure, we lack the ability to design a platform that will hold up to God’s scrutiny. It’s far better, then, to follow the second option, the one taken by the tax collector, to step off that platform and to stand on bare ground, helpless and hopeless before God, for that’s exactly the place where He will find us.
AMEN.