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Righteous Humility – Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 23C

Righteous Humility – Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 23C

October 23, 2016

 

Luke 18:9-14 New Revised Standard Version(NRSV)

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ 13 But 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!’14 I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

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What does it mean to be righteous? Does it mean that you are religiously devout and follow all the protocols of the faith to the letter? Or does it involve humble submission to God? These are questions that emerge from this parable. It’s one encounter and one more parable that redefines what God is looking for from us. The characters in the parable stand as far apart as is possible in ancient Jewish culture. The Pharisees were upstanding religious leaders; tax collectors were not only collaborators with the Romans they often robbed from their own people to benefit Rome and themselves. The Pharisees were respected; tax collectors were reviled. It should be noted that both Pharisees and tax collectors tended to be wealthy. We know where the tax collectors got their wealth. It’s less clear how a Pharisee got his wealth, though perhaps it was inherited wealth.

5445613926_85169104aa Two people from opposite ends of the social spectrum, even if not from different economic ones, come to pray, and their attitude to God and to each other are worlds apart. When we read about the Pharisees as Christians we must always acknowledge the possibility of anti-Jewish sentiment creeping in. The Gospel writers have a tendency to portray them in bad light, and we needn’t embrace that sentiment. At the same time the Pharisee in this story does exhibit the self-righteous tendencies that can afflict many a religious person. And here is the question for us—while we judge on the basis of outward things, God isn’t bound by our judgments or even our criteria. That seems to be the message of this parable.

Self-righteousness isn’t simply a religious sentiment. It emerges in a variety of contexts when we feel morally superior to those who do not follow our lead. We see this in our political stylings. We see this in the myth of American exceptionalism, where in the name of patriotism Americans (and I’m an American) feel superior to other nations, and this can lead us to a place where we are blind to our own faults. We believe that we can do no wrong. The Pharisee in this parable exhibits these tendencies. He looks down the line and compares himself with the tax collector and feels good about his superior morality and spirituality. He can take pride in his fasting and his tithing. He’s not like those “other people,” who are “thieves, rogues, adulterers,” and of course tax collectors. He is righteous and he wears it on his sleeve! Does this describe you? Or me?

In contrast to the Pharisee who is satisfied with his spiritual place, the tax collector seems contrite. He’s self-aware. He understands that he has fallen short of God’s best. He might even look across to the Pharisee and envy his uprightness. He can only wish that he was in the other’s shoes, but he’s not. He knows that despite his wealth, the people around him despise him. Not only that, but he feels as if God has similar feelings toward him. Thus, he comes to the altar in a spirit of repentance. He wants to change things. While God receives the tax collector with grace and mercy, there is the expectation of change.

It is probably helpful to take note of the encounter that will follow in Luke’s Gospel. Jesus will encounter a tax collector, one named Zacchaeus, and Zacchaeus gives evidence of his changed heart. In a reading that will appear a week from now on the 24th Sunday after Pentecost in the year C, Zacchaeus will search out Jesus, and will give evidence of a changed heart (Luke 19:1-10). Of course, that is next week’s reflection!

Before we get to Zacchaeus, we need to address the vision of God with regard to the “righteous” and the “humble.” The Pharisee represents self-satisfied self-righteous moralism. He’s got the religious system down. He knows how to play the game—something many of us have learned over time. But in his air of superiority he forgets who God is. The tax collector on the other hand may not have the same theological pedigree but he seems to better understand God’s nature.

Miguel de la Torre reminds us as well that those who are marginalized, and this tax collector probably made the decision to collude with the Romans because he knew that it was one of the few ways to survive, make decisions that enable survival not morality. We make those kinds of decisions, that may appear unrighteous, but are the result of systems that oppress. So he writes: The salvific message of the gospel that the publicans of the world, the pimps and prostitutes of today, need to hear is that they are precious and are due dignity because they are created in the very image of God. Jesus understood that part of his liberating message was to humble the proud and uplift the lowly” [Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, 2:136]. So the message of today isn’t really about the humble prayer of the tax collector (publican), but the superior airs of the self-righteous religious person.

 

The question becomes, how do we who are religious and hopefully seek to do what is right, that is achieve righteousness, respond to our neighbors who find themselves marginalized by systems beyond their control. Sometimes elections reveal voices of people who feel unheard, and while we may not like what we hear, there is something important revealed by their cries. In our day there are numerous voices that aren’t getting heard. That may have something to do with the attack on the “elites,” and if I’m honest I live among the elites. The reason populist demagogues get a hearing is that they tap into feelings of abandonment on the part of those with power. So, while I may not like to admit that I live within the world of the elites, due to education and privileges accorded to me due to religion, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation, I can be deaf to the cries of my neighbors.  The good news is that God is not deaf.

The difference between the Pharisee and the tax collector is that the tax collector has come to recognize his need for grace. He hasn’t let exceptionalism take hold. He’s ready to receive God’s blessing. Are we? How is this expressed? Could it be in the way in which we treat one another?  Could it be that it starts with recognizing our need for God? As Cynthia Hale puts it:

Admission of human weakness and failure is taboo in our culture. It is not cool to admit your mistakes or you need help. This admission gets the attention of God, though, and it is God’s attention and approval that we need and want. [Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, 2:138].

Righteousness isn’t the same as “morality.” That is, it’s not about fulfilling our moral and religious obligations. Righteousness is rooted in justice. It has to do not with right observance, but right relationships that begin with God and spread outward. By recognizing this truth, we put ourselves in a position to be justified.

bobcornwallRobert Cornwall is the Pastor of Central Woodward Christian Church in Troy, Michigan and is the author of a number of books including Marriage in Interesting Times (Energion, 2016) and Freedom in Covenant (Wipf and Stock, 2015).

Come Sunday: Not for the Faint of Heart (October 20, 2013)

widow22nd Sunday of Pentecost
October 20, 2013
Luke 18:1-8

“Do you hear what that judge, corrupt as he is, is saying? So what makes you think God won’t step in and work justice for his chosen people, who continue to cry out for help? Won’t he stick up for them? I assure you, he will. He will not drag his feet.

Luke 18:6-8 (The Message)

Growing old is not for the weak.

This past summer, my partner and I were busy shuttling between Minnesota and Michigan to move my parents from their house of over 40 years to a senior housing apartment complex on the other side.  It was getting difficult for my octogenerian parents to maneuver around the house.  The neighborhood they lived in, on the northside of my hometown of Flint, Michigan had become more and more dicey, especially in the last few years as the auto industry imploded.  Moving my parents allowed me to see how aging is not something for the weak.  The independence that one had in their youth and middle ages is not as present.  Your body just doesn’t work like it used to.  You become more dependent on others.  It’s just not easy to be elderly.

The gospel text for today involves a widow, a woman who was incredibly vulnerable in that society, and a judge that was more than a little shady.  This woman who probably had little pride left, kept pressing the judge to grant her justice against an enemy.  She basically wears down the judge until he does what she asks just to get her off his back.

Now, God isn’t the unjust judge.  The point of this parable is not that you see God as some kind of holy Santa Claus that you pester until you get your way.  I think this parable has more to do with how we live a life of faith.

We are asked to believe and walk in faith.  But the road is not clear.  We never know how the story will end.  Like the widow, we must keep believing and pray persistently; not to get what we want, but because we have faith that God will answer in God’s time.

God’s time.  That kind of sucks.  Jesus talks about how God will listen to his children and grant them justice, but we know that sometimes our prayers aren’t answered- or at least they aren’t answered in our time or in the way we would like.

I think having the kind of persistent faith Jesus talks about is rather hard.  And maybe that’s the point; trusting in God is rather tough business.  Like growing old, it is something that leaves us rather vulnerable.  I think God knows that having faith in God is hard, which is why I think we don’t have to do it alone.  Maybe that’s one of the reasons we have churches- communities where we can bear each other and believe when others just can’t.

There’s an old African American gospel song whose lyrics include this passage: “He may not come when you want to, but he’s right on time.”

The life of faith can be hard.  However, we know that God is faithful and will be with us, even in those days where God seems distant.

Faith is not for the weak.  Thanks be to God that we don’t have to trust alone.

Come Sunday: “Let’s Get Liminal” (October 13, 2013)

liminal

21st Sunday of Pentecost

October 13, 2013

Luke 17:11-19

They went, and while still on their way, became clean. One of them, when he realized that he was healed, turned around and came back, shouting his gratitude, glorifying God. He kneeled at Jesus’ feet, so grateful. He couldn’t thank him enough—and he was a Samaritan.

-Luke 17:14-16

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/- 1. of or relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process. 2. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

 

liminalBorders are interesting things.  I grew up in Michigan only an hour in two directions to the US/Canadian border.  When driving accross a border, you stop at a booth where someone from Customs asks why you are coming to their fair nation and what are your intentions.  After looking at our passports, the officer waves us through to a new nation.

Borders, especially land crossings, are interesting because one moment you are here and the next there.  You could walk from here to there quite easily if it weren’t for those customs officers that stand in your way.  Borders are like going through the looking glass into another reality, something that is familiar and yet very different.

In preparing for this sermon, a word kept showing  up in the online commentaries I was reading: liminal.  I’ve heard it being used more and more in religious contexts to describe the times we live in; the in between time, on the edge of something better. I kept wondering what liminal had to do with this passage.  As I think about it, the passage has everything to do with being liminal.  Actually, Jesus is all about the liminal.  Jesus seemed to stand in the middle of things, in the borderlands.  Jesus seems to be all about crossing boundaries.  Here’s Jesus talking to the Samaritan woman at the well.  There’s him healing a woman considered unclean.  In this passage he heals ten lepers.  He decides to cross the boundary that separated him from these lepers.  Because he crossed a boundary, one of the ex-lepers comes back to thank Jesus for healing him and that man happened to be a Samaritan.

As I am writing this, we are finishing up day 10 of the federal government shutdown.  I know people have their views on who is to blame, but what is striking me is how polarized we have become as a society.  Republicans over here, Democrats over there.  We humans are good at creating barriers, walls and fences at our borders to keep the other out.

And yet, Jesus walks in and cross the border with ease.

The Samaritan ex-leper was thankful for being healed.  Maybe we should be thankful for a God that is liminal, that breaks boundaries and heals us.

But there is another understanding of being liminal.  That meaning is basically being at the threshold of something.  Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem where he would suffer and die.  Each stop along the way was part of a process, bringing him closer and closer to a moment where everything would change.

When I thought of this second meaning, a song immediately popped in my head.  It’s a song from the 80s, but it feels at times like it came out yesterday.  It’s the song “Verge of a Miracle” by the late Rich Mullins.  Mullins was a contemporary Christian artist that was popular in the 80s and 90s and this song was one of his early hits.  The chorus goes:

You’re on the verge of a miracle
Standing there – oh –
You’re on the verge of a miracle
Just waiting to be believed in
Open your eyes and see
You’re on the verge of a miracle

I think that our lives as Christians are ones that are perched at the threshold of something, something we don’t always know.  What if we saw our daily walk as one where we are on the verge of a miracle?  What if we saw these miracles as times where we cross borders and become agents of healing?

Go and be church.

Come Sunday: The Breakfast Club (September 1, 2013)

Fifteenth Sunday of Pentecost (Year C)

September 1, 2013

Luke 14:1-14

“The next time you put on a dinner, don’t just invite your friends and family and rich neighbors, the kind of people who will return the favor. Invite some people who never get invited out, the misfits from the wrong side of the tracks. You’ll be—and experience—a blessing. They won’t be able to return the favor, but the favor will be returned—oh, how it will be returned!—at the resurrection of God’s people.”

-Luke 14:12-14 (The Message)

I was never one of the popular kids.

Oh, I had friends in high school.  But I wasn’t the guy that went to all the parties.  I tended to keep to myself.

High school is one of those places where there really is a clear demarcation: popular folks here, jocks over there, the smart ones all around you.  Then there were those , like me, who really didn’t fit in any of those groups.

The gospel text for this Sunday has me thinking about high school cliques and tables.  Jesus tells two stories that revolve around the meal table.  The first one tells people to not take the seat of highest honor, but instead take the lowest seat as possible.  The second one tells people to invite the poor, the unpopular, the kind of folk that will be able to pay you back.

Jesus tells these stories as both a commentary on first century society and also as an introduction into the kingdom of God.  In God’s eyes, what matters is not wealth or pride, but humility and compassion.  The system of hierarchy has been overthrown.  Equality rules.

As I read this text, two things came to mind.  The first is that I am writing this on August 27, 2013.  Tomorrow, August 28 is the fifthtieth anniversary of the March on Washington.  The most important part of that day was the speech by Rev. Martin Luther King that is now called the “I Have a Dream” speech.  The speech talks about the system of racial heirarchy found in the American South.  King calls for its destruction, to be replaced with a new system of equality, or as King says:

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

King takes Jesus’ words to heart and envisions a society where the descendants of masters and slaves would sit down at a table where all are equal.
The second though is the 1985 classic, The Breakfast Club.  The movie, directed by John Hughes, is set in the Chicago suburbs where an assortment of high school kids spend a Saturday in detention.  These teens had nothing in common and they were from the various parts of high school society.  While they come into the library that morning divided by their respective cliques, they leave understanding each other.  What was a hierarchy, becomes an odd little community.
Jesus seems to tell us that the Kingdom of God is not just for the beautiful people.  It is really for everyone.  In God’s economy, the CEO in the pews is equal with the guy who just got out of the hospital after another bout of schizophrenia.

Come Sunday: “I’ll Be Around” (August 11, 2013)

Twelfth Sunday of Pentecost (Year C)

August 11, 2013

Genesis 15:1-18

Whenever you call me,

I’ll be there Whenever you want me,

I’ll be there Whenever you need me,

I’ll be there I’ll be around

I’ll Be Around, the Spinners

notre dame montreal
Notre Dame Cathedral in Montreal, Quebec. July 2012.

I’ve had the pleasure of being inside some of the great cathedrals of Europe.  I’ve been too Norte Dame, Sacre Coeur and Chartres in France; Westminster, St. Paul’s and Canterbury in the UK.  These buildings are wonderfully ornate and awe-inducing.  What has always fascinated me is that most of these cathedrals took decades and even centuries to build.  Some guy from Paris who was laying bricks at Notre Dame was probably never going to see his work completed.  And yet, people still kept working, day in and day out to complete their task for future generations.

I am reminded of this today when I read our text from Genesis.  Abraham is not a happy soul.  He heard the call from God to leave his homeland and come all this way to lay roots in strange land.  All the while, God is telling him that he will be the father of a nation.

What gets a little odd is that God starts talking about a time when Abraham’s ancestors would be enslaved by a foreign power, a foreshadowing of what would happen to the Israelites under Pharaoh as told in Exodus.  Abe takes this all in and believes.

It had to cross Abraham’s mind that he would never live to see all of this.  He was giving up a lot, his whole life, for something that he would never see.  And yet, he moves forward in faith.

We live in age where we want to be noticed.  We also want to be our fame to happen RIGHT NOW. We tend to be a people that live in the now, with nary a thought about the generations that will come after us.

But history does march on, with or without us.

i'll be aroundWhat would happen if we believe in God in such a way that we were able to live and work not just for us, but for those women and men who have not been born yet?  What would our churches  look like?  What about our communities?  Honest Abe has his doubts and that’s okay.  We all have doubts that God will do what God will do. Abraham would falter later, but he would still keep plugging away trying to be faithful to God.  He was faithful to a God that was faithful to him-even when it didn’t seem like it.

The lyrics at the beginning of this post is from the R&B group, the Spinners.  “I’ll be around” was the first of a string of top ten hits for the Detroit-based group in the early and mid-70s.  This 1972 song was about man who would always be waiting for his love who has left him.

This song wasn’t written about God, but it does remind me that even when God seems far away, God is present, God is with us, telling us that God will always be around.

Go and be church.

Come Sunday: The Ant and the Grasshopper-Remixed (August 4, 2013)

Eleventh Sunday of Pentecost (Year C)

August 4, 2013

Luke 12:13-21

Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I’ll gather in all my grain and goods, and I’ll say to myself, Self, you’ve done well! You’ve got it made and can now retire. Take it easy and have the time of your life!’

20 “Just then God showed up and said, ‘Fool! Tonight you die. And your barnful of goods—who gets it?

-Luke 12:18-20 (The Message)

the-ant-and-the-grasshopper-an-interactive-children-s-book-by-tabtale-screenshot-4When I was a kid, I loved the fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper.  The Ant was the serious type and worked hard to prepare for the coming winter.  The Grasshopper was more of the free spirit who didn’t worry much about anything, especially the future.

The story ends with winter arriving and the Ant all cozy in his modest two bedroom apartment.  Meanwhile the Grasshopper is shivering in the biting winds, hungry and wondering what will happen to him.

I wanted to be that Ant.  I wanted to prepare for the winter and I even remember telling my mother one morning as I was getting ready for school that we needed to prepare for the oncoming Michigan winter, just like the Ant.

In today’s passage, we see Jesus telling a story of his own.  In this one the rich farmer ends up with a big harvest.  He ends up building large barns to store his harvest and he then decides to kick back, relax and enjoy life, a little like that Ant in that children’s fable.

Except this time, God comes in and tells the farmer that he will die this evening and all of big earnings will be of no use to him.

In this tale, the Ant doesn’t fare so well.

What was wrong with the farmer?  In one case, nothing.  He had a big harvest on his hands.  He had worked hard for this and wanted to enjoy it.  It’s hard to see this guy as greedy; I mean he is just enjoying the fruit of his labor.

Maybe that’s why this story is so upsetting- because the farmer’s greed doesn’t look like greed.  Most of us in his place would probably do the same thing and in fact, we do that all the time.  We buy things telling ourselves that we need them and it doesn’t really look like we are being greedy-we’re just enjoying life.

Was the farmer greedy because he didn’t share what he had with others?  The harvest ends up in the barns.  What would have happened had he shared the harvest with others?  What if we saw the bounty not as an occasion to pat ourselves on the back, but to be generous to others?

Jesus tells the story of the greedy farmer as the Message calls it, in response to a man who wants his bother to share their inheritance.  Theologian Russell Rathburn notes that the man is probably the younger brother who in that time and place was entitled to a smaller share than his older brother.  The younger brother wasn’t happy with what he had, he wanted more than his fair share. So Jesus then tells what has to be the first stewardship sermon.

As followers of Jesus, we are called to place everything at God’s feet and that includes our finances.  We are called to be wise stewards.  We are called to be generous with what we have.  And we aren’t called to build bigger houses…I mean barns to store our stuff…or harvest.

In one version of the Ant and Grasshopper tale, the Grasshopper is left to freeze in the cold.  Another version has the Ant taking the Grasshopper in and feeding his fellow insect.  I’m going to guess that the first version is the “correct” version of the tale.  But I kind of want to believe that the second version still has some validity, for the only reason to show that the wise Ant was not only supposed to be prudent, but also compassionate and generous.

Thanks the kind of Ant I want to be.

Go and be church.

More Resources

Here is what other scholars and pastors have to say about this week’s passage:

David Lose: What Money Can’t Buy

Carol Howard Merritt: Greed and Responsibility

Rick Morley: To Covet or Not

Come Sunday: Merry Martha? (July 21, 2013)

Ninth Sunday of Pentecost (Year A)

July 21, 2013

Luke 10:38-42

The Master said, “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it—it’s the main course, and won’t be taken from her.”

Luke 10:41-42 (The Message)

Hosting parties at my house always brings both anticipation and fear. You have to do a lot to get things ready to receive people. Anyone who knows me or my husband knows if company is coming over we have to clean up the house. So, we spend time cleaning the house-something that we should have done anyway.

When the guests arrive, we then have to make sure that everyone is taken care of. You take their coats. If they brought food, you need to put it somewhere. You might have been busy most of the day cooking a meal or appetizers. You run around making sure everyone has something to eat and something to drink. When it’s all over, you are silently glad that you don’t have to do this for a while.

Being hospitable is hard work.

Maybe that’s why Martha was so mad at her sister Mary. Martha wanted to be a good host. She spent the day getting ready and was still busy even after Jesus arrived. I can see Martha fuming as she is busy cooking the meal, while her annoying sister Mary is doing nothing but sitting at the feet of Jesus and listening to what he’s saying.

At some point, Martha can’t take it. She protests loudly to Jesus to tell Mary to get up off her duff and help Martha.

Jesus’ response is interesting. He tells Martha to not get so worked up over the small stuff. He basically tells her that relationships matter.

Martha is doing what she thinks is right and it is. She wants to show hospitality to the good Rabbi. But she gets so busy in the work that she lost sight of the people. Mary, on the other hand, quietly sits with Jesus and listens. She is also showing hospitality by listening to Jesus and having relationship with Mary.

Martha isn’t the only one that can lose sight of what matters. Sometimes we all can get so busy in the work, whatever that maybe in our daily life, that we forget the message and the messenger. It’s not that the work doesn’t matter. After all, Martha had to prepare a meal and do all the things to ensure that Jesus had a good time. But Martha, and all of us can at times get so busy for Jesus, that we forget to listen to Jesus.

In the past, this passage has been used to shame active women and lift up passive women. That’s not my point here. My point is that Martha wasn’t present in the moment- she didn’t see where God was present-even when God was right in front of her.

Trish Harrison-Warren wrote a blog post recently about learning to find God in the everyday. In her 20s, she was like many young evangelicals in wanting to change the world, to be “radical.” But she learned that sometimes being radical is far more mundane:

A prominent New Monasticism community house had a sign on the wall that famously read “Everyone wants a revolution. No one wants to do the dishes.” My life is really rich in dirty dishes (and diapers) these days and really short in revolutions. I go to a church full of older people who live pretty normal, middle-class lives in nice, middle-class houses. But I have really come to appreciate this community, to see their lifetimes of sturdy faithfulness to Jesus, their commitment to prayer, and the tangible, beautiful generosity that they show those around them in unnoticed, unimpressive, unmarketable, unrevolutionary ways. And each week, we average sinners and boring saints gather around ordinary bread and wine and Christ himself is there with us.
And here is the embarrassing truth: I still believe in and long for a revolution. I still think I can make a difference beyond just my front door. I still want to live radically for Jesus and be part of him changing the world. I still think mediocrity is dull, and I still fret about settling.

But I’ve come to the point where I’m not sure anymore just what God counts as radical. And I suspect that for me, getting up and doing the dishes when I’m short on sleep and patience is far more costly and necessitates more of a revolution in my heart than some of the more outwardly risky ways I’ve lived in the past. And so this is what I need now: the courage to face an ordinary day — an afternoon with a colicky baby where I’m probably going to snap at my two-year old and get annoyed with my noisy neighbor — without despair, the bravery it takes to believe that a small life is still a meaningful life, and the grace to know that even when I’ve done nothing that is powerful or bold or even interesting that the Lord notices me and is fond of me and that that is enough.

The lesson Martha learned is not that it’s wrong to do work. What she missed was being with God in the moment, to be in communion with God.

I hope this week we can find God in the rythyms of our daily work. I hope we remember that the relationship matters.

Go and be church.

More Resources

Here is what other scholars and pastors have to say about this week’s passage:

Danielle Shroyer: Let the Cat Fight Begin

Russell Rathburn: I’m Telling Jesus on You!

Stephanie Frey: Living with Martha


Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.