The Pharisee and the Tax Collector

For those of us with church experience, this parable is very familiar. It is so familiar that we instinctively assume we know who the bad hat is as well as who the good guy is. This parable is one of those wherein we all know who we want to be. We want to be the humble tax collector. We don’t want to be the Pharisee. We want to be someone gently self-effacing—nice—we don’t want to be arrogant, self-righteous, or rude.Yet, as I read this parable again, I find it scary—it actually hits pretty close to home.

But before we get too far afield, let’s really delve into what this parable says. Yes, our assumptions about its meaning are correct, but there is more to it than just the simple observations. 

First, Jesus was using this parable as instruction on discipleship. He tells the story to cut through superficial religiosity to reach the actual depths of faith. To do so begins with an attitude adjustment. The Pharisee is self-justifying; the tax collector anything but. Before we offer our “amens,” realize that most of us fall into self-justification from time to time. Faith is such an amorphous practice. There are very few tangible evidences of assurance that what we practice has any real or lasting benefit or result. We believe, but life remains pretty much as life is. So, we begin to name evidence where we see it, and often that naming means comparing ourselves to other people, and, in utter honesty, we know that means beginning a thought with, “Well, at least I’m not like that…” The further truth is that as soon as such a thought occurs, it reveals how far we actually are from being faithful. Our attitude is all wrong.

Second, stuck in a bad attitude, the Pharisee names all the wrong things as evidence of his supposed righteousness. Yes, fasting and tithing can indeed be genuine expressions of faithfulness, but here we know them to be only window dressing. The Pharisee’s poor attitude empties them of any and all meaning. To bring it home, it is not enough that here we are in church on Sunday morning, especially if we sit here feeling morally superior to all those not here who could not be bothered, found something else to do, or just slept in. In terms of righteousness, as soon as we begin to think such things (and perhaps believe them), the power of being here is gone. We empty worship of its meaning.

Third, the tax collector reveals the right attitude. He does so in two ways—(a) he seeks to be invisible; and (b) he knows who he is. The tax collector gets to the heart of worship—connecting with God. Nothing else matters. There is no showy display of being in worship. He wants to be alone with God even in the midst of the temple. He also knows that to be connected with God means reminding himself of who is God and who is not. In the presence of God, the tax collector knows only his need for God. He knows God owes him nothing. He knows his Maker. Ironically, that opens him to the full power of God. Only someone who knows their need for grace can receive it. Unless we see the reason for the cross in our own shadow, the cross has little or no effect for us. It becomes a piece of jewelry. 

Fourth, this attitude has nothing to do with self-denigration. This stance is not that of someone who sees themselves as worthless. Rather, it is a stance of knowing that as a child of God, nothing is more important to our success than the love of God. Humility becomes the gate through which that love can flow. The tax collector does not say, “Lord, destroy me, trash that I am;” instead, he seeks the mercy that will allow him to become whom God made him to be. A student does not sit in front of a teacher declaring all the reasons she should not be there, but rather says in her presence, “Here I am, fill me up!” That is the stance of faith before God.

Finally, note the true action of faith. It is not about ritual, song, or sermon. It is about connecting with God, therefore, the tax collector simply prays and that is the totality of his worship. It is all that is needed or necessary. Again, not to denigrate what we are doing today, but rather to ask us to truly consider why we are doing it, why are we praying, singing, and preaching this morning? Unless we are doing so to connect with God, we need to let go of everything and anything. If this sermon does not draw anyone closer to God, then I might as well have been silent, for at least in the silence someone might have found God!

The prayer of the tax collector is true worship because it immediately connects the one praying to whom the prayer is made. That is the core of honest confession—obtaining the grace needed to be a child of God despite all else that we are. 

Why, even Presbyterians can get behind that!