I’m Glad I’m Not . . .

Luke18:9-14

God, I thank you that I am not like those conservative Episcopalians who walked away refusing to acknowledge gospel hospitality, love, and inclusiveness.

God, I thank you that I am not like the agenda-driven liberal Episcopalians who neither understand nor respect the holy scriptures.

God, I thank you that I am not like the democrats who are driving this country into another failure of socialism.

God, I thank you that I am not like the republicans who only care about themselves and war.

God, I thank you that I study and work hard to have a good life and that I am not like those who leech off of welfare.

God, I thank you that I am a Christian and not like those godless Muslims.

God, I thank you that I am not like….

Now fill in the blank with whatever it might be for you. You may not pray like the Pharisee, but have you ever expressed those opinions in conversation? Have you ever kept those thoughts to yourself in silent self-righteousness?[1]

The one thing we cannot say is,

“God, I thank you that I am not like the Pharisee.”

And if we do say that, then our own words become evidence that that is who we are. But that is not who we want to be. We want to be the justified tax collector because we have come to believe that Pharisees are narrow, legalistic hypocrites. To hold that belief sort of sounds like a Pharisee, doesn’t it?

Jesus’ parable sets a trap for us. It is not a trap to catch and condemn us; it is not a trap to separate tax collectors and Pharisees. Rather, it is a trap that stops us and brings us face-to-face with the reality of our life and relationship with God.

We know from historical records that when a Pharisee went into the temple, he would often separate himself from the others there, who he considered to be “unclean”. He was trying to impress God with his personal righteousness by separating himself from the “sinners”. It also seems that the Pharisee was praying to himself. It’s unclear whether his prayer was actually heard by others in the temple or not. But there is little doubt that he was putting on a demonstration for others that He thinks will also impress God.

On the other hand, the tax collector came to be impressed by God. He stood far off, not because he didn’t want to defile himself, but because he feared he might defile others. He understood that he was unworthy to even be in God’s presence. He came, not to impress God or others with his righteousness, but to beg for God’s mercy.

This parable is quite straightforward and simple; it seems to me that we could make a few observations for us to consider, and then spend the rest of our time following the example of the tax collector and taking some time to be impressed by God.

Another important question to ask ourselves is:

Why did we come to church this morning?

There are two reasons people come to church:

1. To impress God
2. To be impressed by God

It’s not too hard to figure out which of the two came for each of those reasons. Obviously the Pharisee came to impress God.

Look at this prayer that the Pharisee prayed; he’s not praying to God, he’s praying to himself. The Pharisees considered themselves worthy of God’s grace based on their religious performance. They thought they earned the right to demean others and make demands. And this prayer shows this self-righteous attitude.

In Luke 18:11 the Pharisee is demeaning others so that he can elevate himself. Even going so far as to point out a particular person around him, the tax collector. He thinks he’s better than him. In his prayer, he reports all the wonderful things he has done:

 fasts twice a week and gives a tenth of all he gets.

He’s showing off, bragging.

The Old Testament Law only required a fast once a year. But the Pharisee fasted twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. But really, this is just a ploy to attract attention to himself. These were the days the market convened and many people came to town. He was just showing off. And the Pharisee is proud of his religious piousness. His entire prayer centers around how great he is and how terrible everyone else is, especially the tax collector.

These kinds of people have an “I” problem. Five times this Pharisee uses the pronoun “I”. He suffered from two problems: inflation and deflation. He had an inflated view of who he was and a deflated view of who God was. C.S. Lewis wisely said,

“A proud man is always looking down on things and people; but as long as you are looking down you can’t see anything that is above you.”[2]

Ironically, both men got what they prayed for. The tax collector humbly asked for mercy, and he received it. The Pharisee asked for nothing because he thought that he already had it all, and he received nothing.

The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector shows us whose prayers God respects. It’s not those who appear righteous and exalt themselves, but rather those who humble themselves.

We like to point the finger at the Pharisee, but the reality is we probably have a little of his attitude in our hearts as well. This parable should cause us to pause and reflect,

who are we more like?

We have a tendency to think higher of ourselves than we ought. We see ourselves through rose-colored glasses. But the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector forces us to take off those glasses and see who we really are.

So, who are you more like? The Pharisee and his pride or the tax collector and his humility?

The Pharisee’s prayer is all about himself. His pride oozes out of his prayer. It’s plain to see that the only one he cares about is himself.

And he gets exactly what he asks for. NOTHING.

Look at your prayers.

Who are they about?

Who are they to?

Maybe they aren’t as obviously prideful as the Pharisee’s obnoxious prayer, but what are they centered around?

I find that my prayers drift towards myself if I’m not careful. I naturally head towards pride.

How about for you? Is there pride seeping into your prayers?

The Tax Collector’s Humility

The tax collector understood his unworthiness. He understood that on his own he had no hope.

The irony of the story is the Pharisee was just like the tax collector. While he might look good on the outside, he needed mercy too. But he couldn’t get past his pride to see his need.

We all need God’s mercy and grace. But unless we humble ourselves, we will never see it OR receive it.

Rather than justifying our actions and comparing ourselves to others, we need to come to God with humility. And when we do that, God will not just forgive us, he will justify us.

So, who do you relate to? The meaning of Luke 18:9-14 asks us this question. We are told

“God justifies the humble.”

Spend some time this week thinking about how you can take the tax collector’s posture and rid yourself of the Pharisee’s pride.

If we wish to be right before God, we must be humble.

But, how do we become humble?

Remember who you are.

You are only a small dot in the universe.

If we are humble, God will justify us.

The Pharisee left the temple the same as when he entered. In fact, I think we could even make the case that he was worse off than when he arrived. He had once again missed out on God’s offer of mercy and grace because he didn’t think he needed it. He was so wrapped up in his own self-righteousness that he couldn’t understand the need for humility that would actually bring him closer to God.

The tax collector, on the other hand, went away a changed man. Even though he wasn’t particularly religious and certainly not as well-educated in the Scriptures as the Pharisee, he knew enough about God to recognize his unworthiness compared to God. And that led him to mourn and have great sorrow, a fact that is demonstrated not only by the words of his prayer, but also by the action of beating his chest. And that sorrow resulted in him leaving the temple a changed man, one who Jesus said was “justified.”

So let me ask you again the same question I asked earlier:

Why did you come to church today?

Did you come here as an act of religiosity in which you are trying to impress God and earn His approval and favor?

Or are you here today because you want to be impressed by God and allow Him to send you away changed?

If we’re completely honest, I think most of us would admit that we probably have some mixed motives. I think most of us are here today do want to focus on God and let Him reveal Himself to us and let us see ourselves as we really are, and remember just how much we need Him.

But at the same time, I can’t help but think that all of us have some Pharisaic tendencies as well. And so we can be tempted to look around at others and congratulate ourselves on just how righteous we are compared to others. But when we do that, the problem is this holds God at a distance and we leave there the same as when we arrived. But I’m convinced that God never wants that to happen when we come to church.

We need to take some time to be impressed by God. Take some time to consider who God is and what he has done for us. Take some time to pray to God as you reflect on Him. And as you do, pray like the tax collector, keeping your focus on Him and begging for His mercy and asking Him to change you.

Hopefully that’s why you came to church today.

The way we approach God, even in what may appear to be the simplest way, was a point made by Pastor D. L. Moody when he shared the touching story about a young boy brought up in an English almshouse many years ago.

This child did not know how to read or write, except he had learned the A, B, C’s. One day a man of God came to the almshouse and told the little children that if they prayed to God in their trouble, God would help them.

 One day, out in the field looking after the sheep, this boy had a hard time. Then he remembered what the preacher had said and decided to ask God to help him. Several years later, the young lad found work as an apprentice to a farmer.

 Someone walking by the hedge surrounding the field heard a voice. As they peered over the hedge to see who it was, they saw the little boy on his knees, saying, “A, B, C, D,” and so on. The man asked, “My boy, what are you doing?” The young child looked up and said, “I’m praying.”

“Why, that is not praying — it is only saying the alphabet,” the man told the child.

 The little lad looked up at the man and replied that he did not know just how to pray the right words. Then he said a man once came to his almshouse and told the children that if they would call upon God, He would help them. So he continued, “If I name over the letters of the alphabet, God will take them and put them together into a prayer and give me what I need.” As Pastor Moody stated: “The little fellow was really praying.”[3]

It’s really just a matter of how we position ourselves before God. Do we stand on our doings, our works? Or on His mercy, His righteousness? The people who know how they stand before God and the Pharisee might look a lot alike in worship. Both are smiling, both are generous. But if you sneak close enough, you can hear the difference in the prayers they mutter. There is

“Thank you God for not making me like them!”

and then there is

“Thank you God for enabling me to do what I couldn’t have done on my own!”

The Apostle Peter thought he was so strong, so smart, so full of faith in God, that he would never fall into sin. But Jesus told him that he would deny him three times. Peter is a great example of the passage from Proverbs that says,

“Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” (Proverbs 16:18)

Do you have pride inside of you? It takes different forms. For some of you, the pride inside of you says,

“I am too smart, too strong, to do something bad, like that person over there. I would never fall into sin like that. Never.”

And then you end up doing something really dumb, like the Apostle Peter. Do we have any prideful people walking around the building today? I think we do.

For others of us, pride looks a little different. Someone gets into trouble, and you say to yourself,

“I’m glad I’m not like that person. That person is bad and needs to be punished. But I’m good. God is way happier with me than he is with that person.”

Do we have any Pharisees walking around the building today? I think we do.

“I don’t need to go to church. I already have a strong faith.”

That’s pride.

Do you know who has pride? The teachers. The students. The parents. The musicians. Everybody in this room. If you don’t think you have pride, that’s a sign that you have pride.

Jesus said,”

You hypocrites!  (Matthew 23:27)

Isaiah was right when he prophesied this about us. I like what the Message Translation of this verse says:

“First pride—then the crash—the bigger the ego, the harder the fall.” (Isaiah 2:11)

None of us measures up to God’s righteousness. Yet, if we confess our unworthiness, he is willing to forgive. Are we willing to admit it?

How do we pray: like the minister of a wealthy congregation:

“Dear God, I am so grateful for who I am and what I have. I am so grateful that I get to work at a great church and that I don’t have problems other people have. I am so grateful that, like so many people, I have never had a drink. I’ve never smoked. I’ve never used profanity. I have been faithful to my wife and a good father to my children. I always go to church and faithfully pay my tithes. I am just thankful I am not like so many people living such terrible lifestyles. I am so grateful I have never been like them and never will be.”

Or on the other side of town, in a rough urban neighborhood where half the homes were empty, dilapidated, and boarded up. The area was very unsafe. The house was dark because there was no electricity, and it smelled of sweat, urine, and vomit. Used syringes were scattered across the floor. In the upstairs room, a lone chair sits against the wall, and a man sits in front of the coffee table where a line of cocaine has been sprinkled and scraped. He can feel the addiction gripping his heart as he drops to his knees to begin another ritual of snorting that line of cocaine into his nostrils when all of a sudden, a flood of conviction breaks through the dam of his heart. Instead of reaching for the syringe, he looks up to heaven and says,

“Oh God, no other person on this planet is more worthless and less worthy to talk to you than I am. I have made terrible choices, and I am suffering the consequences of them. I am getting what I deserve. God, I am asking you now, ‘Would you please have mercy on me?’”

Which is your prayer?

In the last verse of this parable, Jesus tells us:

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 18:14)

Amen.

                                                   Delivered at Saint John’s Episcopal Church, Columbus, OH; 23 October 2022

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[1]      Michael K. Marsh. Interrupting the Silence

[2]      C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, “The Great Sin”, 1952

[3]      Dorothy Valcárcel, Transformation Garden

Cleansed or Healed?

Luke 17:11-19

In today’s scripture, we again see an encounter between Jesus and a Samaritan.  – Believed to be a remnant of a lost tribe of Israel, the Jewish people considered the Samaritans beneath them, even pagan, shunned. But nine times in the Bible, Jesus has intimate encounters with people from Samaria (just think of the Good Samaritan or the woman at the well).

Lepers were the lowest of the low. Throughout the Bible we see Jesus interacting with the ‘least of these’ – tax collectors, prostitutes, beggars – Samaritans absolutely fit into that social category. This time he encounters a group of ten lepers along the road.

Leprosy is a disease caused by bacteria, affecting the nerves of the extremities, skin, lining of the nose, and the upper respiratory system, producing skin ulcers, nerve damage, and muscle weakness. Also known as Hansen’s Disease, its first known reference was in 600 BC.

A person could carry the disease for years before the symptoms appear; nodules on the skin grow larger until they force deep wrinkles all over the body. Then the lips, nose, and ear lobes grow thicker until the face begins to resemble an animal. Ulcerations appear everywhere, causing mutilation of arms and legs. Fingers and toes would fall off as the disease progressed; eventually, the person was left blinded.

Since there was no understanding of diseases caused by germs, these people were segregated from society, left to their own survival, and generally lived short lives. Because people knew nothing about germs, most people felt the disease represented a curse imposed on them by God.

And as if the disease wasn’t cruel enough, social rules demanded ostracism. Leviticus 13:45 defines interaction with lepers:

A diseased person must wear torn clothes and let his hair hang loose, and he must cover his mouth and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean!’.

A leper was to be avoided at all costs and treated less than a cur dog on the street. You could say they were really ‘the least of the least.’

The story of the healing of the ten lepers only appears in the gospel of Luke and is often considered one of Jesus’ miracle stories. But this scripture is NOT about the miracle of the healing, but about gratitude. Luke’s story is not the miracle of 10 lepers cleansed but rather the contrast between gratitude and ingratitude. Luke notes that the man returning to give thanks was a Samaritan, a “foreigner.”

When Jesus heard the pleas of the lepers, he told them:

“Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. (Luke 7:14)

And nine of them headed back to the village to receive a blessing from the priests so that they could resume their lives within the community. In those days, the religious authorities controlled who was acceptable and who was not.

But one of the cleansed lepers returned to Jesus

praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. (Luke 17:15-16)

While the other nine ran to the village to resume their lives, this Samaritan returned to thank Jesus.

Why did only one man cleansed from leprosy return to thank Jesus?

The other nine went to the priests to be proclaimed ‘clean.’ They possibly wanted to return to their families, celebrate their cleansing, go to the temple to worship, and do things they couldn’t do before.

Why did only one return to Jesus?

The Samaritan, by going back and thanking Jesus, was made whole again. . . in other words healed, not just cleansed of the disease. He had faith in Jesus, and his faith made him whole. Not only did the Samaritan receive the blessing of a cleansing of his leprosy, but also healing through his faith in Jesus.

Only one returning to thank Jesus is not surprising, is it?

Most of us are experts in asking God for favors, but we’re not very good at thanking God when the requests are granted. I doubt that more than ten percent of us are genuinely grateful to God. It often seems that the more we have, the less gratitude we feel.

We take for granted every blessing we receive, and never think of where it came from and that we should be grateful – we are full of ingratitude. It was Shakespeare who said:

Blow, blow thou winter wind. Thou art not so unkind as man’s ingratitude.

Gratitude draws us out of ourselves into something more significant, bigger, and grander than we could imagine; it frees us from fear, releases us from anxiety, and encourages us to do more and dare more than we’d ever imagined possible.

This world is full of blessings and challenges. Which will we focus on?

There is a time for lament and cries for justice and activism. But given that we live in a culture filled with blame and accusation and almost devoid of gratitude, remembering the tenth leper, we need to be heralds of blessing and bearers of powerful words of gratitude, sharing it with the world.

Have you noticed that some people are more thankful than others?

Are you going to live as the one who, as you walk through life, actually stops and notices the goodness of God, the grace of God, the presence of God, and says

“thank you, God, I see, and I’m thankful.”

Be the tenth leper. Just forget about your to-do list, and say “thank you.”

What if we had to get caught up on thanking before asking for anything else? What if that were the rule? Can you imagine trying to remember the blessings of your lifetime? Can you even remember the blessings of this past week? Can you remember this morning’s blessings?

Can you imagine giving:

• Thanks for the warm bed.
• Thanks for the roof over your head.
• Thanks for the food you ate —and the water you drank.
• Thanks for the air you breathed.
• Thanks for your family.
• Thanks for your job.
• Thanks that you can see—and hear—and talk.
• Thanks for your health.
• Thanks for the beauty of the day.

And that is just the beginning. If you had to list all your blessings, you would have to list all the bad things that didn’t happen to you today. How long would that take?

Do we remember to praise God for the little miracles that happen to us every day?

Or do we just note them and go on about our daily lives? Or not even notice them at all?

Are we the nine cleansed lepers or the one healed Samaritan?

Let us pray:

Source of our blessings, forgive us for our self-centered preoccupation. You have blessed us with so much, and we seem to thank you for so little. We praise you for your selfless love, abundant mercy, grace, faithfulness to your promises, and assurance of our future with you. Thank you for your Holy Spirit, who intercedes as we pray, strengthens, equips, leads, and empowers us. Thank you for the breath we breathe, the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and the place we lay our heads at night. We thank you for these and thousands of other blessings from your hand. In Jesus’ name. Amen

Delivered at Saint John’s Episcopal Church, Columbus, OH; 9 October 2022

Are We the Rich Man or Lazarus?

Luke 16:19-31

This is another one of these parables attributed to Jesus that causes consternation to preachers everywhere.

Throughout the New Testament, Jesus always preaches God’s love and grace and sacrificed his life so that we all can have eternal life. Yet, this parable sounds like it belongs in the Old Testament – where God is a vengeful and cruel God, not a loving one.

However, we must understand that this is a parable—”an imaginary story…to illustrate some higher spiritual truth”[1].

The story of Lazarus and the rich man affirms worldly and earthly possessions are of no benefit after death. People who have suffered on earth and are obedient to God’s word will receive their reward in Heaven.

Part of the scripture addresses that we are ‘our brother’s keeper’, when the rich man ignores the needs of Lazarus sitting at his gate, eating the scraps from his table. Many times we are commanded by Jesus to

‘feed the hungry, tend to the sick, clothe the naked’ (Matthew 25:35)

The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus is an excellent example of Jesus’ teaching that has generated many discussions, head-scratching, and interpretations.

Let me set the stage for this parable. Luke 15 begins with some Pharisees and lawyers mingling in a crowd where Jesus had been teaching. They criticized him because he was known to deliberately spend time with sinners. Jesus responded by launching into several parables: the Lost Sheep, Lost Coin, Prodigal Son, and Shrewd Manager. When he taught about the shrewd manager, which touches on how we use our money and resources, Luke tells us that:

“The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus” (Luke 16:14).

This tense exchange sets the stage for Jesus’ story about Lazarus and the rich man.

Jesus introduces us to two characters: an extremely wealthy man and a beggar named Lazarus; this is the only parable in which Jesus calls any of the central characters by name.

Who was this parable’s symbolic rich man?

Jesus doesn’t even bother to give the rich man a name in his story. Instead, he let him be a representative for all who live life as he did. He makes it clear that this man is living a lavish lifestyle at the expense of others. This man lived his life feasting daily, adorned in the finest clothes, including purple, which only the wealthiest could afford. This man had it made (Luke 16:19).

In stark contrast, there’s Lazarus. The only thing that adorned him was sores, and all he had to eat were scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Jesus even added a detail that showed how low Lazarus was,

that dogs licked or snipped at his wounds.

This detail is significant as it would have made him unclean and unable to worship – the ultimate degradation. The only thing Lazarus had that the rich man didn’t was a name. Jesus personalizes his concern for the poor man with a name (Luke 16:20-21). The word ‘Lazarus’ (Eleazar) means ‘God Has Helped.’

To the rich man, Lazarus was just another face in the crowd, an invisible poor person who disappeared into the background of this rich man’s comfortable, lavish life. This rich man became nameless; it’s Lazarus, whose name remains remembered. We have been told,

‘the first shall become the last.’

Jesus wants to give us a solid understanding of this significant reversal.

These two men’s lives couldn’t be more different. Even in their death, there is considerable contrast. The rich man is anointed with oil, wrapped in fine linens, and carefully placed in a tomb, as was the custom.

Lazarus’ body was probably tossed aside in Gehenna, the city dump. Jesus details how different these men’s lives and deaths were (Luke 16:22).

This parable forces us to reflect on how we treat “Lazarus-like” people. The rich man remains nameless, so we can place ourselves in his shoes. Let’s be honest with ourselves; we probably see a little of him in our own lives. The story of the rich man and Lazarus should lead us to the question: are we like him?

The rich man knew Lazarus; he asked for him by name. He knew he was in need, but he refused to even give him the scraps from his table. Lazarus could only gather what fell. The rich man saw the need and ignored it. He had no compassion. Even in death, he still saw Lazarus as beneath him.

Now dead, we glimpse the rich man and Lazarus on the other side. But Lazarus is carried to Abraham’s bosom. And the rich man goes to Hell (Luke 16:23).

They still live in contrast to each other, but now the roles are reversed. Lazarus is now living in luxury, and the rich man is living in torment. Ironically, he’s still called the rich man, though he now has nothing.

The rich man is now in torment that is self-inflicted. There seems to be a moment of regret, a time when the rich man seeks forgiveness. Luke 16:24 tells us that he calls out for mercy. And we might feel bad for him… but we see he hasn’t changed a bit.

The rich man asks for mercy, not mercy to be saved from his current circumstances. Instead, he asks for Lazarus to be sent to Hell so that Lazarus can dip the end of his finger in water and cool his tongue. Again, he still thinks he’s more important, and he wants to be the top dog. He hasn’t changed (Luke 16:25-31).

Many people reading this story of the rich man and Lazarus assume the picture Jesus is painting is hell. But this parable isn’t primarily teaching about hell. Rather it is teaching about the consequences of our actions towards others.

The rich man wasn’t thrown into hell because he didn’t believe. He found himself in a place of torment because of how he treated others, especially Lazarus.

But God isn’t the one condemning the rich man to Hell. The rich man locked himself away; he chose to go there. When there seemed to be an opportunity to repent and change his ways, he demanded that Lazarus come and serve him again. He would rather reign in torment than be a servant in God’s kingdom.

Jesus ends his story with a rather sad statement, but one that will prove true. Even if someone were to be raised from the dead and provide a warning, the living would still not be convinced to change their ways (Luke 16:31). In a short time, Jesus will sacrifice His life, but that still won’t be enough to make some people change their ways.

This parable shows us that we get what we ultimately want and desire in our lives. We can either reign in torment or be a god in our hell. Or we can be a servant of God and be in paradise with Him. It’s up to us.

The way we treat others shows us which direction we will take. But it’s not too late for us if we find ourselves on the wrong side. Unlike the rich man who refused to repent, we can see the life we were meant to have.

Faithful disciples of Christ will not ignore the suffering of the poor like the rich man in this parable did. Jesus told us that when we show mercy to the poor and help our neighbors in need, we follow His teachings. In Matthew 25:40, He tells us:

“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me”

I think these are Jesus’ two main points in his Rich Man and Lazarus Parable:

1. Wealth without active mercy for the poor is great wickedness.
2. We’re doomed if we close our eyes to the world around us.

As Christ’s disciples, we must ask ourselves:

• What are we to learn from this parable?
•  Are we the rich man?
• Do we treat people like he did?
• Do we have the resources but refuse to give them to others?
•  Is our heart hardened towards those in need?
• Do we know we cannot escape judgment?

The Parable of Lazarus and the Rich man encourage us to examine ourselves. And as James reminds us,

“if we merely listen to the word, we deceive ourselves” We have to ‘do what it says” (James 1:22)

Let us pray:

Creator of all, open our eyes to see the people you have placed in our path for us to show compassion. Stir our hearts with your Spirit to respond when we see them. Strip away the calloused and dead skin that surrounds our hearts of compassion. Teach us the best way to show your love and grace. Amen.

                   Delivered at Saint John’s Episcopal Church, Columbus, OH; 24 September 2022

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[1]       International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, “parable”