A Sermon preached in
Christ Church, Grosse Pointe,
Michigan
by The Reverend Vicki Hesse, Associate
by The Reverend Vicki Hesse, Associate
The
23rd Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 25, Year C)
23 October 2015
23 October 2015
May
the words of my mouth and the meditations
of all our hearts be always
acceptable to you O Lord,
A few years ago, Anne Lamott wrote this
book on prayer, “Help. Thanks.
Wow.” The little book is filled with
Anne Lamott-esque descriptions of her own prayer life that makes you laugh out
loud and weep in too-close-for-comfort familiarity. Take this one passage, on
the chapter for Help, as her cat is dying from lymphoma:
When
I pray, I pray for alot of things. I ask
for health and happiness for my friends, and for their children…I pray for our
leaders to act in the common good, or at least the common slightly better. I pray that aid and comfort be rushed to
people after catastrophes… It is also
okay to ask that my cat have an easy death.
Some of my friends’ kids are broken and the kids’ parents are living in
that, and other friends’ marriages are broken and every family I love has
serious problems involving someone’s health or finances. But
we can be big in prayer, and trust that God won’t mind if we pray about the cat
and [my grandson’s] tender heart. Is God
going to say, “Sorry we don’t have enough for the cat”? I don’t think so.
I
know even as I pray for help that there will be tremendous compassion, mercy,
generosity, companionship, and laughter from other people in the world and from
friends, doctors, nurses, hospice people.
I also know that life can be devastating and it’s still okay to be [mad
at] at God: Mercy, schmercy.
I can
picture God saying, “Okay, hon. I’ll be here when you’re done with your list.”
Then He goes back to knitting new forests or helping less pissy people until I
hit rock bottom. And when I finally do,
there may be hope.
There
is freedom in hitting bottom, in seeing that you won’t be able to save or
rescue your daughter, her spouse, his parents, or your career, relief in
admitting you’ve reached the place of great unknowing. This is where
restoration can begin, because when you’re still in the state of trying to fix
the unfixable, everything bad is engaged: the chatter of your mind, the tension
of your physiology, all the trunks and wheel-ons you carry from the past. It’s exhausting, crazy-making.
Prayer.
The topic of the gospel text today, extending from last week’s prayer
parable of the persistent widow. One
theologian characterized these complementary parables as, “the promise of persistent
prayer” and the “peril of presumptuous prayer.” [2]
Jesus told the parable to “some who (1)
trusted in themselves and [who] (2) regarded others with contempt.” Although it
seems that Jesus speaks to the Pharisees directly, the gospel writer cleverly
“vague-ified” the audience. Why is this
important? Because probably, Jesus knew then (as we know now) that disciples
and believers were just as vulnerable to pride and self-righteousness as the
Pharisees. This way, people who didn’t
recognize their own tendency to play the role of a Pharisee might have assumed
that Jesus was talking about someone else, but at the end, the hearers on that
day had to confront their inner Pharisee – the one in their own hearts.
Jesus offered this not-so-subtle parable to
crack open hearts and to teach about the oh-so-subtle paradoxical nature of
Grace. Jesus left open the way for hearers to learn how grace is always available, yet can only be received
by those who have learned open-handed empathy. Just as the nature of mercy and forgiveness
can only be received by those who are merciful and forgiving. Grace, mercy, forgiveness are always available,
particularly when, as Anne Lamott says, when we hit bottom and become willing
to receive these gifts.
This parable itself is not subtle. But if
we see the Pharisee and the Tax Collector only as the clip art characters we
know from previous sermons, we miss what makes each unique and we minimize the
power of the reversal.
See, in those days, Pharisees tended to
hold a liberal understanding of Scripture.
The aim of their Law was to make it possible for everyone to observe
Torah. Kind of like the religious orders
of today, like of monks, or nuns, who demonstrate how to be pious. Pharisees
might have been like our beloved SSJE monks, who offer daily inspiring quotes
for better living into Jesus’ commands to love God and to love one another as
he loved us.
Tax Collectors, on the other hand, were not
just commonly despised IRS agents who collected what was due. Tax Collectors
collaborated with the Roman imperial government and took advantage of their
role, extracting more than was due and pocketing the difference. Tax collectors were not known for being
humble in any way – they were seen to be cheaters: dishonest manipulators.
Now the reversal of the parable can begin
to unfold in the position and prayer of each.
The Pharisee’s position is that of
“standing by himself,” separated from others, to maintain his purity. The Pharisee’s prayer, also, is “standing by
himself,” totally concerning himself.
While he does thank God, the substance of the prayer is found in the
repetition of “I”… I thank you that I am not like others. I fast … I tithe
… His prayer asks nothing of God; why
would he? it is all about him. So it would have surprised the original hearers
to imagine the beloved and respected Pharisee to pride himself with his ample
piety, expressing no humility or contrition.
The Tax Collector’s position is that of
“standing far off,” holding a relative safe distance from others. The Tax
Collector’s prayer, also, is far different.
He does not look up to heaven, the common prayer posture of the day, but
he looks down. He beat his breast, the common prayer gesture of contrition. He
boasts of nothing. He asks for help, so
this would have stunned the hearers to imagine the hated Tax Collector asking
for help.
Jesus unveils the powerful reversal in the
final lines, describing how the one called “holy” by society walked away from
the temple, “wrapped up in his grandiose self righteousness” – while the one
reviled by the good church folks went home, justified in the sight of
God.[3]
Is it too obvious to state that the Tax Collector hit bottom and the Pharisee
hit a personal high? I think it is.
My sisters and brothers, being a disciple
is a balancing act. While we open our
hearts to love, by caring for the poor, serving at Crossroads, having civil
conversations with those whom we disagree, visiting someone in hospital,
teaching children to read, engaging in citizenship by supporting fair and just
legislation … while we open our hearts and our hands to serve God’s beloved
community, we can let go of the outcome and trust in God’s grace to get it
done.
Achievements have a place – but not in the
center of our relationship with the “God of the cross and the Friend of the
poor.” As we open our hearts to love, we
can pray for God to Help. That is the first great prayer.
Today’s parable is not subtle, and it’s not
simple. It’s about God’s grace – the
paradoxical way that it is always available, always abundant, always
accessible. And it is offered through
empathy for others – and for ourselves.
May we, this day, open our hands and hearts
to receive the freedom of grace and love that is extravagantly offered through
the One who died for us and rose to set us free. May we, this day, set our hope on God, for it
is God who does all this!
Amen.
[1] Anne Lamott, Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, (New York, Riverhead Books, 2012) p. 13-15
[2] Peter Rhea Jones, The Teaching of the Parables (Nashville;
Broadman, 1982) p. 198 as referenced in New
Interpreter’s Bible Commentary: Luke
18:9-14, p. 340. note 194
[3] Laura Sugg, Feasting On The Word: Pastoral Perspective,
p. 214
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