30th Sunday 2022
Ecclesiasticus 35: 12-14, 16-19; 2 Tim 4:6-8, 16-18; Luke 18:9-14
Which are you then: the Pharisee or the tax collector? I suspect that no one today would admit to being the Pharisee. In fact, modern society has rewritten this parable. Today it runs: “I thank myself”—today’s society won’t thank God—“that I am not like this Pharisee. I don’t go to church, or say prayers, because I am not a hypocrite. I don’t have hang ups about sex, or obey silly rules around it. I hold all the fashionable viewpoints. I criticise the Church as being wealthy, but I would never dream of giving anything myself to help the poor, because that is the job of the state, or the Church, or their families, or somebody. I respect all opinions, provided they agree with mine, and I am glad that I don’t believe in sin, like this silly tax collector, who would be all right if he didn’t cling to old fashioned notions.”
All of this shows that the Pharisee is actually alive and well, and living in.....well, is he living at all in us? It doesn’t mean that he isn’t, if we agree with the tax collector that we are sinners, because even that can be a form of self-indulgence, as is shown in the old Jewish story of the rabbi, the cantor, and the synagogue cleaner, which could just as easily be a Catholic story about a bishop, a priest, and a church cleaner.
The rabbi stands at the front of the synagogue, and beats his breast, exclaiming “I am nothing. I am nothing.”
Beside him stands the cantor, who beats his breast, exclaiming “I am nothing. I am nothing.”
And at the back of the synagogue is the little cleaner, who beats his breast, exclaiming “I am nothing. I am nothing.”
And the rabbi turns to the cantor, and says “Just look who thinks he is nothing!”
What is the real difference between the tax collector and the Pharisee? The tax collector doesn’t make comparisons. He doesn’t judge the Pharisee: rather, he looks at his own sinfulness, and confesses that. Notice something else: he doesn’t go rooting in his conscience to decide which sins he is prepared to confess, or how to dress them up to make them look less serious than they are; or how he can exaggerate them to show what a wonderful penitent he is. He simply recognises his sinfulness for what it is, and admits it, and throws himself on God’s mercy.
So I ask again: which are you, the Pharisee or the tax collector? If you or I make comparisons, if we judge people, if we consider ourselves better than other people in any way, then you or I are/am the Pharisee.
Can you, can I, honestly claim that we never do that? If I were to ask your views about politicians, Church leaders, this celebrity or that one, could you honestly tell me that you don’t have opinions ready formed, opinions which are, more likely than not, negative? If I were to ask you about the people down your street, about young people, about unemployed people, about Jews, about Muslims, about wealthy people, about poor people, what would your reaction be?
Sometimes your opinion may be correct, but that is not the point. “Who am I to judge?” asked Pope Francis on a famous occasion, for which he was castigated by self-righteous people in the Church. What was he doing other than obey Our Lord’s command “Do not judge”? No doubt the people present at Calvary judged the thieves crucified with Jesus to be villains, and they were correct, yet one of them was promised an immediate place in Paradise.
“God be merciful to me, a sinner” says the tax collector of the parable, and he goes home at rights with God. He concerns himself with his own sin, not that of the Pharisee, and he asks for God’s mercy. Do you and I do the same?
