No Comparison, Only Christ

A reading from the Gospel According to Luke.

Since we have been just love We have Jesus.

Chapter 18, verses 9 through 14.

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt.

Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.

A Pharisee standing by himself prayed thus, God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.

I fast twice a week.

I give tithes of all that I get.

But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, God, be merciful to me, a sinner.

I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other.

For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.

The Gospel of the Lord.

Grace and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen.

In today's gospel from Luke chapter 18, Jesus tells us a parable about two men at prayer.

Luke 18 · chapter mention

One a Pharisee, the other a tax collector.

Now the Pharisee, in the eyes of his neighbors and community, would be anything but a villain.

This Pharisee is a good man.

He is the kind of man who stands up for what's right.

He fasts more than the law requires.

It means he's serious about God and his faith.

He tithes on everything he has, and he wants what's best for the people and the nation and their well-being together.

He's the kind of man that if he lived in Madison, you'd want him making policy or running your most important institutions.

The tax collector, on the other hand, is none of these things.

He's a scoundrel in the eyes of his neighbors and community.

Because, for one thing, he collects Roman taxes, collects on behalf of this hated enemy and oppressor of their people.

And on top of that, he skims from the top to keep some of that money for himself, usually far more than he would be entitled to.

This was a kind of unjust dealing with his neighbors and community.

And so he was treated as a kind of cultural or religious traitor, someone who had turned his back on his people, and so the men around him hated him for such a thing.

Now Jesus tells us that both of them were in the temple and both of them were at prayer.

Listen first to the prayer of the Pharisee.

God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.

Now you can probably hear and sense what's off about that prayer.

It's kind of a prayer of thanks, but a kind of twisted one.

It's like when you hear someone say something like this, I'm sorry that you were offended, and you know that what you just heard wasn't really an apology.

It just had an apology shape to it.

In the same way, this prayer has a thanksgiving shape to it, but we recognize that the Pharisee is not really thanking.

He's really looking at himself and praising himself for who he is in comparison to others.

It's a kind of caricature or twisted version of thanksgiving.

There's no thanks in it.

Not only that, we can sense that the prayer is strangely dependent on the sins of other men for it to make any sense.

You see, if there's no extortioner, no cheat, no unjust person, no tax collector to point to, well then the prayer starts to lose its whole thrust.

And you see, in this situation, the Pharisee is almost requiring the sin and failure and weakness and wickedness of others in order for him to have anything to say.

And so you have in this strange prayer a Pharisee who is on this project of self-praise, self-justification, and he's disguising it all as a kind of piety.

And yet he needs someone to play the role of the tax collector for his sense of standing before God to make any sense at all.

Now, because we have heard the whole parable, and because we have heard Jesus and his judgment about the two men in the parable, it can be easy for us to say, well, our job is to just shake our head or perhaps wag our finger at the Pharisee and then to move on.

But before we do that, perhaps we should ask ourselves, is there someone in our life who plays the role of the tax collector in our hearts and minds?

Is there someone we need to be beneath us or different than us in order for our sense of self-standing to really have any sense to it at all?

I mean, I think you and I know that this is a phenomenon that happens in our hearts and in our lives.

In fact, you don't have to be a Christian believer to sense this.

There have been scholars and sociologists and people who look at all of the elements of human nature and behavior, and they notice this kind of thing too.

In fact, some have even given it a name.

They called it this idea of a repugnant other.

A choice phrase, but one that I think can really resonate with us.

The idea is that someone needs this repugnant, repulsive other, someone against whom we define ourselves.

Someone we can show and point to and say, I'm better than that person, I'm cleverer than that person, I have not done what that person did, I don't think the way that person thinks.

And then I can use that repugnant other as a kind of foundation for my own sense of who I am and what I stand for.

And you know there are all sorts of examples of this.

There is, of course, the proverbial relative that you see at Thanksgiving or holidays that everyone has to brace themselves for.

We say, well, I'm not like that guy.

Or maybe there's the coworker who cuts corners and yet somehow gets to succeed or gets promoted anyway, and you can go home frustrated but saying, At least I'm not like that person.

Of course, we know that there are all sorts of parents in the world who are doing it completely wrong all the time, all around us.

And we daily encounter people whose views, whether political or social or cultural, we can't even begin to comprehend.

And we say, How could anyone think such a thing?

And these for us begin to play that role of that repugnant other.

Someone I can say, Well, at least I'm not them.

And you know when this often comes out in your heart and mind, it's usually when we're feeling small or broken, we're feeling like we've failed or fallen behind, or we feel ashamed or guilty.

It's in those moments that we go back to those repugnant others that we have on file, and we can say, Yes, I have been like this, but at least not that way, or not that bad, or not in that particular way, and we can go there and find a kind of comfort, you might say, but it really is a twisted one.

And now it might be the case, may well be the case, that this kind of thinking doesn't encroach into your prayers the way it did for the Pharisee, but surely we can all admit that there are many moments when this is the way we think, as we think about ourselves and others, and we hold someone at a kind of distinction or difference in order to define ourselves against them as that repugnant or repulsive other, the one we are not like.

Of course, this kind of project of a sort of self-made justification, a way to lift ourselves up and our view of ourselves by looking down at others or treating them with contempt, is not one that will succeed.

It's doomed to fail.

And of course, for several reasons.

First of all, it puts us in a kind of strange and twisted position.

It would be a pretty messed up place to be to have all of our sense of standing and wholeness be dependent on the sin or failure or wickedness of others.

Because we can just sense it.

That's pretty backwards already, but then we we think of how uncertain that is.

Because then if the person we define ourselves against, what if they were to repent or change or reform, maybe even flourish, then what would happen with our sense of our own self?

It would have to change or go seeking a different person against whom to define ourselves.

And that is a kind of shifting sand that we cannot build on if we want to have any sense of hope or stability in our faith and life.

Indeed, we don't want to be the kind of people who need someone else to be wrong or bad for us to be good or right.

That I think we can sense would be a terrible way to live.

Then, of course, there's the strange irony of it all, that we're perhaps we can just admit that surely you and I have been for someone else, the repugnant, repulsive other.

Surely there have been people who've looked at you and looked at me and said, How can they think that way?

How can they behave that way?

How can they have made that mistake?

I, of course, would never behave or think or make mistakes the way they do.

And if we knew that there were people using us that way to prop themselves up, we would probably object.

And of course, then that convicts us as well, because if it's not okay for others to use us that way, then surely it's not right for us to use them that way.

And so there's a strange irony embedded in this way of living as well.

Then of course, none of this can really succeed in the end because it keeps having to happen again and again and again.

You know how it is that even in those moments where maybe you have made yourself feel a little better, we know that that verdict we have found about ourselves doesn't really last.

We have to keep going back to that comparison again and again and again.

Sometimes, even against our better judgment, we don't even want to, but we keep going back to that dirty well for something.

And there we are again and again returning and finding the same thing.

Because again, if your standing in mind depends exclusively on where others stand, then that is not going to be something that can endure, and it is not going to be something that can last and stand sure.

We realize by examining this and examining our own hearts that the standing we are looking for, this justification we crave, is not going to come from ourselves, and it's not going to come from our distinction or comparison with others.

We are going to need to find it from some other place.

It's not going to work to say we don't need it because it seems that the human heart needs this.

What we need instead is a proper source.

But where will we find it?

I suppose we could examine one of the sentences from the Pharisee and perhaps see in it a mirror of where we should really be looking.

He said this, remember his prayer, I am not like other men.

And we could ask, has anyone ever said that truthfully?

And I think that we could say that the only person who could have said such a thing truthfully is the one telling the parable.

It's the Lord Jesus Himself.

Someone who could say, Actually, I am not like other men and be telling the plain truth.

For we know that Jesus was holy, righteous, sinless.

As the true Son of God, he was all these things.

He actually could look around and say, I have not cheated, I have not been unjust, I have not treated others with contempt, I have done none of these things.

I am truly not like other men in every way.

But of course, that fact alone renders our project of comparison, of self-justification through that distinction and comparison hopeless.

Because what will we always have?

We will always, if we look hard enough, find someone, even Jesus, the ultimate someone, who has been everything we are not, even at our best.

And there will always be that distinction where we are the ones on the losing end, the ones who have not measured up, the ones who have not been enough, and the ones who cannot say what Jesus is able to say.

Indeed, coming to this realization that this path is a kind of hamster wheel that gets nowhere is a God-given gift and spirit-wrought wisdom.

That we realize this game we're trying to play is one we cannot win because there is always someone who is greater than us, and that this renders our self-justification pointless.

And so instead we realize that the only path for us is the one that Jesus put in the mouth of the tax collector in the parable.

The one who looks to himself and says, I don't see there some distinction where I am going to build myself up.

I see there my own sin.

And so the tax collector says, God, have mercy.

He gives up on this game, this hopeless path.

He says, the only thing that's going to work is the Lord's mercy, for I have nothing to show in my track record, and I cannot live up to the holiness that is expected of me.

So, God, what I need is your mercy.

Be merciful to me, a sinner, he says.

And when we begin to talk like this tax collector, when we set aside the project of self-justification, then and only then do we realize how marvelously and fully and completely we are made whole and forgiven and justified by the mercy of our God and Lord.

Mercy that is extended and delivered through the very one speaking these words today.

The words of the parable.

That if anyone could look out at the world and say, I want nothing to do with this, for they are so far afield from me, in a sense, Jesus could have said such a thing.

He could say, They are sinful and I am holy.

What does sin have to do with holiness?

And yet Jesus did not keep his distance from us.

He did not look at us and say we are repulsive and repugnant.

He said, They are my brothers.

He drew near to us, even, coming down to this world to become one of us in our humanity, not to say, look, I'm not like them, so let me keep my distance.

But he said, I will be numbered among them.

I will be numbered even among those transgressors.

He did not keep his distance but drew near, became one of us, and was even numbered with us.

And so this is where the heart of the mystery of the cross comes in.

That there you have the holy and perfect God against whom no one could stand.

There we have the holy and gracious Lord Jesus showing perfect love at the same time.

And there we see someone who was not like us in any way according to our sin, but like us in every way according to our humanity, and yet there in that mystery our sins are laid on him, and he becomes like us in every way, to the point of death, even death on a cross.

And there he shed his blood, so that by his blood you and I would have the mercy of God.

Mercy that washes away our sin, sets aside the pointless comparisons, and instead brings us into the standing that the tax collector was pronounced or was given at the end of the parable.

Forgiven, justified, made whole.

Jesus has done this for you.

And there on the cross, the plea for mercy was answered by God's own Son.

And you and I then have been baptized into the same Jesus.

Not next to Him or around to Him, but into Him.

Because if it's just next to Him, we cannot compare.

But if it's into Him, then everything that is His, His holiness, His righteousness, His goodness, and His mercy is credited to you and to me.

Which means that you and I today, we get to go back down to our house the same way the tax collector did.

We go back down to our house justified, made whole, forgiven in Christ.

And as you go back down to your house, you'll probably take the same route you normally do.

You might run the same errands you usually stop for.

You'll go through some of the same routines that you usually do on a Sunday, and maybe your Monday will look like most of the Mondays before it.

And as each of those days go by, you'll be enduring the same difficulties, the same temptations, the same hardships.

You'll still be looking around at all the same people around you, the same world in all of its brokenness.

But the difference is that because you have been here and heard and received the forgiveness of God, you will not go out back down to your house looking for others against whom to define yourself.

You'll be looking at those others as people God has called you to serve and to love.

You will no longer be running a kind of rat race where you can only justify yourself, but you'll be able to rest and have peace and confidence, knowing that your standing is not built on others, but built on one particular person, one who can hold you, and that is Jesus.

And this changes everything.

It stops the pointless game of comparison and gives us only the one who can endure and stand, our Lord Jesus Christ.

That you and I can go home, get down to our house, justified.

Not playing anymore for comparison or contempt, but instead building on Christ, who is our life and our all.

Amen.