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                                                                                 The Church of the Redeemer

                                                                                         October 28, 2007

                                                                                                Proper 25

                                                                                      The Rev. Mr. Marc Eames

What does repentance look like?  In this parable Jesus tells us about a tax collector. 

Now tax collectors have never been popular figures.  At one career day I attended in college, an accountant for the IRS was the only figure to be booed by the students.  As poor of an opinion that some have of the IRS today it was much worse in Roman Palestine.  Tax collectors under the Roman Imperial system were hated nearly everywhere, but they were especially hated in Israel.  The tax collectors were symbols of an oppressive occupying authority.  They further enraged native populations by trying to squeeze every last drop of sweat from the foreheads of toiling laborers; on occasion taking so much that families would be forced into starvation.  Set tax rates were a fiction.  The tax collectors, with the help of Roman muscle, extorted as much money as they could.  They had a set amount of money they had to pay the Emperor, but anything above that figure was theirs to keep.  Some tax collectors, in Jerusalem especially, became rich.  Romans preferred to use native Galileans and Judeans over outsiders, so the collectors were hated for being both bullies and extortionists, and they were viewed as traitors to the Jewish people.  Not only were they working for the enemy, but also a native son of Jerusalem would certainly know better than a Roman outsider who might be hiding assets.  There were no offshore accounts back then, and persistent tax collectors could usually find hidden assets seeing they often knew where to look. 

The tax collectors were despised men, but they were also men who lived in a deep state of guilt.  The Jewish people hated them, and the occupiers looked down upon them.  After all, they would never really be true Romans.  These were men could not have been further from God’s love, or at least so many thought. 

Now back to our Pharisee.  The Pharisee in the synagogue was quick to point out the tax collector.  He thanks God that he is not like other men, and after naming a litany of sins, draws attention to the tax collector in the room.  The tax collector was meant to be embarrassed by this prayer since he was a living, breathing example of sin in the midst of a house of God, but he never even looked up.  This pharisaic prayer might sound harsh, but we say the prayer in different ways all the time.  Like the Pharisee, we often try to make ourselves feel better by comparing our lives to those who are struggling.  We often root against people or laugh at their misfortune.  We watch episodes of reality television, read the society pages, and trashy magazines.  All are consciously marketed to people who wish to feel better about their own lives by comparing them to the misfortune of celebrities.  In the weeks around the death of Anna Nicole Smith the media spend more time covering autopsies and paternity tests than it did the Iraq war or the AIDS crisis in Sub-Saharan Africa.  Part of this fascination is similar to the Pharisee’s prayer.  Thank God I am not like these oddballs.  We convince ourselves that we have our lives together often through negative example.  Millions of people watch American Idol to laugh at the terrible singers, and in that laugh there is the voice of the Pharisee crying out, “Thank God I am not like this poor soul who doesn’t realize how bad he is.” 

The prayer of that Pharisee is in all of us.  It is so easy to judge people, and to assume we are better.  I have certainly done it.  I met a gentlemen doing homeless ministry that I judged much too quickly.  In this ministry you encounter many who suffer from mental illness; so when a man approached me and asked if I had ever read any nineteenth century authors, I said, “Ahh, sure,” ignored him and continued walking.  After all, I just had a conversation with a woman who gave me an encrypted message intended for Queen Elizabeth that I was ordered to protect from the KGB.  I wasn’t looking forward to a conversation with the latest incarnation of Charles Dickens.  The next time I saw him, he asked me if I had ever read The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy.  I told him that I had.  We then had a twenty-minute conversation about the book, which we followed up with weekly chats.  This disheveled homeless man was surprising.  He was well read, and more importantly, he was a believer in Christ.  I had ignored him, but he did not judge me.  I dismissed the man as being yet another person who needed help.  He did need assistance, but he also had love to share with me.  I admit that during much of my ministry with the homeless, and in the hospital, I thought far too often, thank God I am not this man or woman, instead of saying thank you God for all the blessings in my life and the opportunity to meet someone new.  I find that I am too quick to judge and too slow to thank. 

This brings us back to the hated tax collector.  He went into the synagogue without judgment, without pride, and with an open and contrite heart.  He did not craft a pretty prayer.  He did not prepare an exhortation illuminating the scriptures.  He just asked for mercy.  He came in with his burdens as a broken man, as a man who could not even lift his head toward heaven.  He left as a man justified.  This is a man who came to know the healing power of the love of God.  This is a man who could not raise his head toward heaven, but through the grace of God, that is exactly where he will make his home.  This is what repentance looks like.  Repentance isn’t self-loathing, punishment, and judgment.  Repentance is healing, repentance is joyful, and repentance is an opportunity for God’s grace.  Good people, I ask you today, to lift up your hearts and unload your burdens on Jesus.  God has promised us mercy, for God is good, and he will do it.

Amen.