Mass readings for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Sirach 35.15-17, 20-22 Psalm 34.1-2, 16-18, 22 2 Timothy 4.6-8, 16-18 Luke 18.9-14
Jesus gives us a parable of two men at prayer. Yet he’s not talking about prayer, per se.
Prayer is an important spiritual state; even when done publicly, it’s very private, and in that private, internal experience it can be revelatory—not just in what God might say; but in what is revealed about the person praying.
When we look at these two men in the parable, we see them for who they are, or more precisely, for who they think they are. We shouldn’t confuse who they are to others, the public face they show to others, with what is revealed in their prayer.
So, the Pharisee would be seen by most others as a man of learning, of piety, of wisdom, and of deserved authority and social station. From what we know of the Pharisees, not to be anachronistic, we might regard them as solidly middle to upper middle-class people or even higher in status – they would be from leading families of this society, highly educated in the formal sense, something most people had neither the time nor the money to afford. They tended to be landowners, not farmers; they might own a house in a walled city like Jericho or Jerusalem, these weren’t tradesmen. Even if their land holdings were modest and the house was in a smaller city, that would put them materially above the vast majority of people.
The source of the Pharisee’s power was knowledge; and the principal source of knowledge at that time was the scriptures. The Pharisees, weren’t huge in numbers, but they were very influential because from their knowledge of the Torah, they had developed a compelling political theory and theology. To simplify, God gave us the law, the law is good, so, more law is even better. So, they elaborated the religious regulations of Jewish life and insisted on them being followed to the letter. However, if someone didn’t do this, they were the problem. They were why Israel was in bondage, why things were so bad. How wonderful to be a Pharisee: you were well off relative to most people, you had political influence through respect from some and fear from others; and because of your ideology with its veneer of religion, you were firm in your belief that you were a good person, and that it was other people who were the problem.
The tax collector would be despised. Yet, it is doubtful that he would present to the world the cowering, frightened figure we see in this parable.
We know something about ancient tax collectors. In the Roman imperial system, they actually paid the taxes owed up front to the government in exchange for the right to recuperate the money from the people, plus a little extra, a service fee, so to speak. And so, being out of pocket, they would be very motivated to get the money. They would hire goons, off duty Roman soldiers, to help them collect. So, they would project an intimidating public image.
So, who is it we actually see here in the parable? They may be standing in plain sight on the Temple grounds, but what their prayers tell us how they understand themselves.
The Pharisee regards himself as fully righteous and deservedly justified before God – he doesn’t ask for anything, but thanks God that he is so much better than others; the tax collector sees himself as a wretch, and undeserving of God’s mercy; and yet, he begs for it.
The one man is filled with pride, while the other is quite humble; the Pharisee arrogantly assumes his justification, his salvation; the tax collector assumes he deserves nothing. So, we have a portrait of pride set next to a picture of humility; and Jesus says it is the humble man who knows himself to be a sinner who is justified.
That must have shocked more than a few people, and especially the Pharisees because they were a religious movement as well as a political faction. They advocated not just for the political autonomy of a reconstituted Israel, but they presented to people a way of life, a system of values, a philosophy and theology to save Israel: “be like us and we will renew Israel; it will regain its glory as a godly nation.”
Jesus rejects their whole program, both political and spiritual. This won’t save Israel, and it won’t save individual men, women or children either.
Rather, he points to the man who knows himself to be a sinner and indicates that is the way to sanctity, to spiritual renewal, and to the Kingdom of God.
Now, of course, the penitent tax collector might beat his breast and beg for mercy at the Temple in all sincerity; and as Jesus suggests, he receives mercy and his feet are then set on the path to God. But like any penitent Catholic who comes to confession to admit his sins, promise repentance, and is absolved; if he goes back to his sinful ways, well he’s back on the road to damnation. If this tax collector who goes home justified sends his “boys” out first thing the next morning to rough up farmers who are late with the tax money; if he continues to collect an exorbitant “collection” fee to line his own pockets, he is right back to being damned.
The lesson, nonetheless, is that the door to salvation is opened by humility, and slammed shut by pride.
Humility has a quality of honest self-regard. Healthy Christian humility is not self-loathing, but a candidness about who we are as flawed human beings inclined to sin, to be selfish and prideful; but there is then a faith that brings us to ask for and to rely upon God’s grace and mercy.
Pride cannot admit that need. Pride blinds us to our faults and has us pass over our failings in favour of celebrating what we regard as our virtuous accomplishments and our seeming goodness.
Now today we don’t have Pharisees today, but we have their equivalent: those who believe they have the moral high ground, are enlightened, properly educated, and relative to the unwashed masses, more capable and expert, knowing what the solutions to all our problems are with arrogant certainty.
The modern “pharisee” is someone who may or may not go to church or other houses of worship, but the belief system they hold has the force of religion in their lives. Those who disagree with them are heretics, unbelievers, heathen – or perhaps to use more current language, they are the extremists, bigots, misogynists, the enemy of all that is good and true.
The source of the modern Pharisee’s power, at least insofar as they understand it, is knowledge, but unlike the ancient Pharisee, the Bible is not the source. Rather, they will appeal to science. I think I’ve said this before, “science” comes from the Latin Scientia, and simply means “knowledge” – it does not mean wisdom or prudence or compassion. It is merely the world of facts and figures that we should in wisdom, prudence, compassion analyse and interpret. There is to be discussion and mutual respect; and no one holds the moral high ground because they’re better read, went to university, hold an elected office or are an official of either government or a major global corporation.
Parents have wisdom, passed down to them, and also derived from the act of parenting. Farmers might not have advanced degrees, but they live close to the land and are careful observers, so they have knowledge both passed down and from experience.
So, for example, when the matter of teaching sexuality in elementary schools, or the use of fertilizers in agriculture comes up, I think a great many more people than those who sit on boards of trustees and in legislature, the activists and lobbyists, have legitimate perspectives and real interests in these discussions, and ought to be heard and not dismissed as being part of the problem.
I’ve had people ask for my opinion about the coming elections. I’m not endorsing anyone, rather I just lay out principles for good Christian action with some reflection on my experience in campaigns at the local and provincial level.
We don’t have a great political culture currently, and I can’t imagine a politician admitting he or she was wrong. How would they get elected? The media would savage them for actually having integrity and the kind of humility we’re talking about, calling it weakness.
Look for any hints of true character. It’s not about their seeming to be nice – you can fake humility and sincerity (but not for long), or that they promise to “fight for the little guy” – don’t they all say that? The promises, the platforms, the media statements, all the facts and figures they spout, these are important, but I try to look past that to see if I can discover their character; and then watch what they actually do.
We don’t want to elect or empower today’s Pharisees, we don’t want to encourage modern pharisaism.
Rather, we want to encourage healthy humility, an openness to have genuine discussion and not begin a conversation in the conviction that the other person is simply wrong, and terrible, and part of the problem.
What I’ve spoken about is a basic principle of our lives as faithful Catholics. We must be people of humility encouraging this virtue in others. We need to endorse and support people in this difficult way of life in the midst of a degenerate culture that celebrates pride, fame, power, and domination; as if simply winning, simply being on top, simply being looked up to whether in admiration or fear, are worthy achievements.
Pray for humility in others, but pray especially for it in oneself.
And if you aren’t sure how, I recommend Cardinal Rafael Merry del Val’s famous litany of humility. Among the petitions he wrote are these:
From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, Jesus.
Our sole desire should always be for heaven, and our only fear the loss of God. Be like our Lord who is meek and humble of heart; and Christ himself will lift you up to join him exalted, standing at God’s right hand, made glorious through sanctifying humility.
Amen.
