Readings: Joel 2.23–32; Psalm 65; 2 Timothy 4.6–8, 16–18; Luke 18.9–14
‘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!” ’
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Back in the 1670s, when Charles II was king,
the heir to the throne was his brother James.
An Italian princess, Mary of Modena,
was chosen to be his wife,
a Roman Catholic, like James.
But it seems that the pope was opposed to the marriage,
so they sought the help of Cardinal Barberini
and he persuaded them to marry immediately.
It would be, he advised,
“less difficult to obtain forgiveness for it after it was done,
than permission for doing it”.1
Cardinal Barberini’s advice
has become something of a proverb,
especially in recent years, hasn’t it?
It’s easier to ask forgiveness (after the event)
than to get permission (before).
And the tax collector in today’s gospel reading
certainly seems to have his eye on forgiveness, doesn’t he?
So what are we to make of this?
Jesus is telling a story about two characters,
one a Pharisee, and the other – a tax-collector.
Now if you’ve been hearing
bible readings and sermons for some time
you’ve probably already got some ideas,
some preconceptions,
about Pharisees, and about tax-collectors.
Pharisees –
well, they’re always arguing with Jesus, aren’t they?
And full of themselves and their strict rules.
And as for tax-collectors,
I suppose we know instinctively
that they’re not particularly nice people,
don’t we?
After all, who likes the taxman
even in our own society?
Most of us probably think we pay
at least a bit too much tax,
and the taxman
– not to mention Chancellors of the Exchequer –
often seems to be trying to take a bit more.
(But perhaps I’ll leave a discussion of
the British tax system for another occasion!
Back to first-century Judea.)
We can see in the gospels
that Jesus does seem to have
something of a soft spot for tax collectors.
We read about Levi or Matthew
being taken from the tax office to be a disciple,
and about little Zacchaeus climbing a tree
to see and hear Jesus,
and then hosting a banquet for him.
These are perhaps typical
of the attitudes we might bring
to a discussion of this parable.
But they are not, I suggest,
what Jesus’s immediate hearers would have thought.
Most likely they would have considered a Pharisee
to be a paragon of virtue,
instructed in the law,
the biblical law,
someone to be esteemed and copied.
And as for a tax-collector …
well, it wasn’t just that he took people’s money;
no, the real problem with tax collectors
was that they were collaborators,
collaborators with the Romans,
the hated occupying power.
If we think what the attitude was
to Nazi collaborators during the War, say in France –
after the War many were lynched,
killed by the mob or executed by the state.
That perhaps gives us an idea
of what the Judeans and Galileans listening to Jesus
might have thought about tax collectors!
And yet Jesus, in this parable,
says it is the tax collector who is closer to God.
Now, we’re coming towards the end
of a three-year cycle of bible readings
at our Sunday morning services,
and over that three years we have heard
a lot of Jesus’s parables.
And one thing that comes across to me
is Jesus’s skill at using just a few words
to conjure up in our imagination
a situation and some characters –
and then to turn it all on its head
and shock his listeners with a surprising outcome.
It’s one of his favourite devices,
a favourite way of teaching and telling stories.
And I’m sure he preached this way
in part to get his hearers to think for themselves.
And Jesus delights in challenging stereotypes,
both positive stereotypes and negative stereotypes.
So, a couple of weeks ago
we heard about the Samaritan leper,
a hated foreigner,
who was healed.
And in this reading today
it is the godly Pharisee who is roundly criticised,
and the hated tax collector
of whom Jesus speaks approvingly.
You can almost hear people in the crowd
muttering to one another
“What does he mean?
How can a tax collector, an enemy collaborator, be good?”
And if we look carefully at the passage in the gospel,
then one of the interesting things
is that actually Jesus does not condemn the Pharisee
for the things that he says he has done,
for his self-discipline and his charity.
He doesn’t condemn the Pharisee for that;
and nor does he condone the tax collector
for what he has done either.
Now in almost the next episode in Luke’s gospel,
we learn about another tax collector, Zacchaeus.
And Zacchaeus, hearing Jesus’s teaching,
declares that he will return overpayments with interest,
and give away half what he has to the poor.
But there is nothing like that here.
Jesus keeps this story
short, sharp and pointed.
Because today’s parable
is not primarily about
the ethics of either the Pharisee or the tax collector,
but about their attitudes:
their attitudes to themselves,
their attitudes to others,
and their attitudes, above all, to God.
Perhaps one of the key words we heard
was when Jesus says that
the tax collector returned home … “justified”.
“Justified”.
What on earth is that about?
Well, “being justified” and “justification”
are words that carry a lot of theological baggage.
They cause debate and division among Christians
and between sections of the Church.
But ultimately it’s about being fit and worthy,
being made fit and worthy,
fit and worthy to stand in the presence of the Almighty.
What Jesus seems to be saying
is that we do not earn that justification
by what we do.
Now, don’t get me wrong.
Elsewhere in the gospels,
Jesus spends a long time
teaching about right behaviour,
about caring for others,
about looking after the weak and the poor
and all who are in need,
regardless of who they are
or where they have come from,
or society’s attitude towards them —
the poor, the hungry, the homeless,
the sick or disabled,
the prisoner, the refugee,
the oppressed and the shunned.
That work is very clearly a gospel imperative,
and Jesus makes it abundantly clear
that in helping those in need
we are helping … Jesus,
we are helping … God.
Instead, in today’s reading,
Jesus reminds us
that in order to come close to God
we need to acknowledge
that we … are not gods,
that we … are not in control of the world:
that we need to stop and to be honest.
To be honest with my-self.
To confront my own faults, my own issues.
In the story,
the Pharisee’s problem
is that rather than recognising his own faults,
he prefers to see himself as better than someone else.
The tax collector, on the other hand,
does not compare himself to others,
but humbly recognises
that he has not done the right things.
And it is that recognition
which should be the start of a journey for him,
and which should be the start of a journey for each of us.
Perhaps the episode of the tax collector Zacchaeus,
just a few verses later,
indicates what should follow that initial recognition of fault –
a whole new way of life …
new life in the kingdom of God.
[short pause]
And a final thought or conundrum
for us to consider.
I wonder if you have spotted
the “Catch 22” in the parable.
Have you?
It’s all too easy, isn’t it,
to find ourselves thinking
“I thank you that I am not like … that Pharisee”?
Because when we do that
then we are being just like the Pharisee in the parable, aren’t we?
“God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”