Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 18:9 – 14

Every time I hear this parable, I thank God I'm not like that Pharisee – self-righteous, smug, feeling superior to other people, lacking in humility – in fact, I probably have more humility than ninety percent of the population. So I thank God I'm not like the Pharisee. And I thank God I'm not like the tax collector, either. It's hard for me to go to confession, because I have a difficult time thinking up things I really need to confess. After all, you don't have to name every little sin to receive absolution, and that's about all the sins I can think of – putting off doing something I should do, wasting time on the internet, saying things that are true, but would better be unsaid. So I'm glad I'm not like the tax collector.

Obviously I'm not being entirely serious. But I think those are the two roots of my own sin – one is that I think I deserve a pass because I've always given part of my time and part of my treasure to the Church, and I don't think I've broken any of those ten commandments, at least in a serious way. The other root is that I have trouble coming up with sins that I've committed.

There are two things about this parable that we don't always notice right away. First, the Pharisee is not lying nor is he bragging to the people around him. The text says that he prayed “to himself” which doesn't mean that he thought he was God; it simply means what we would take it to mean – it's going on in his mind. And the other thing is that the tax collector doesn't even name his sins, nor is there any evidence from Jesus' story that he changed his ways. The only thing we know about him is that he realizes that he is mired in sin, he defines himself by sin. And he goes away justified.

Sin is always related to division. It's so obvious with the first sin, that of Adam and Eve. After giving in to temptation, Adam blames Eve, Eve blames the serpent; and Adam finds himself fighting with the earth to yield its produce, and Eve must undergo pain in order to bring her children into the world. And of course paradise is closed off for them. And the sad thing is that just by existing we participate in division. If we have an opinion about something, someone else probably has the opposite opinion, and our natural reaction is to see them as other, to divide. And if someone we know is living a superior moral life to our own, our reaction is not to praise them, but to look for excuses as to why we can't be like that, or to attribute their apparent moral superiority to pretense on their part.

Sin is the refusal to become fully human. It's that inner voice that tells me to stop trying, that my perfection is a hopeless dream. Sin is apathy – which is the opposite of being engaged with the world, the opposite of creativity. In fact, the state of sin is a lot like death.

It's hard for religious people to avoid the Pharisee's problem. In fact, James and John, two of Jesus' apostles, asked him if they should call down fire on the Samaritans who refused them hospitality. And you can probably think of other examples. All of us Christians, if we belong to a community, can look to things which characterize us, and when we look at other Christian communities, we find ourselves saying, “Thank God we are not like those … progressive Christians who are spending their energy trying to save the planet, but support a woman's absolute right to choose; or thank God we are not like those … fundamentalist Christians who use the bible as a science textbook and believe that anyone who isn't like them is at best a second class citizen. Or thank God we belong to the true Church and have the Real Presence, unlike those people down the street who are basically heretics.

One thing about Jesus is he was a uniter. He was always inviting people into the kingdom – lepers, blind people, paralyzed people; widows, prostitutes, Samaritans, pagans, and yes, even Pharisees. He ate with them, and many of the earliest converts to Christianity, including Paul, were Pharisees. His attitude towards someone's past was shown by his treatment of the woman caught in adultery – “Is there no one to condemn you? Then neither do I condemn you. Go and don't do this sin again.”

And Jesus did not like those who divided. Pharisees who would have nothing to do with someone who was ritually unclean; money lenders who prevented people from approaching God in the temple. It's true that Jesus said that he came not to bring peace, but to bring division – but he simply knew that when people chose to follow him, there would be a reaction among that person's friends and relatives; it was to be expected, and it still happens today.

So if I'm honest with myself, I'm like the Pharisee. It's natural for human beings to see the world in us versus them terms. It's the kingdom of heaven to see the unity between all human beings. Being a Christian is imitating Christ, trying to overcome barriers between people. It isn't natural, but that's what the Holy Spirit is all about – to transform us from ordinary human beings into people who have a share in the divinity of Jesus.

And if I'm honest with myself, I'm like the tax collector. I'm a sinner. It's interesting that so many of our saints as they grew in holiness considered themselves even worse sinners. It wasn't just a delusion, or putting on a false humility. It was the realization that we humans were tied to sin and by ourselves couldn't do anything about it. Jesus said, “the poor you will always have with you” and promised that his followers would suffer persecution and even be put to death. It's admirable that some people go to great lengths to make a little dent in the sinful world, and saints always try to do that. But in the end when we realize how tied to sin we are, it is only then that we realize we are in need of a Savior. It is only then that we can go home justified.