Thank God I am Like Other People

Did you hear what Jesus said in today’s gospel? Did you really hear it?

Even if you yourself are not a parent, I expect that all of you can appreciate the image of an adult lecturing a child who is not interested. The kid can be standing right in front of you, eyes focused in your general direction ("Look at me when I’m talking to you!"). The words come out of your mouth and enter the child’s ears, but you know they’re not really registering. In desperation you may ask the child, "What did I just say?". But even if she can repeat the words back, you still know your words have not really sunk in. The words have not entered the child’s awareness in any meaningful way; they have not provoked any sort of response or reaction. Once the child has gone, the moment, the words, might never have happened at all. Why, so often, are we just such children with respect to the Word of God?

So did you really hear Jesus’ words? Jesus’ words in this morning’s parable were meant to provoke a reaction. Even in his time. And they can be pretty startling in our day, too, especially for people who received their pledge cards in the mail this week. If we are really listening, Jesus’ words should hit us like a bulldozer. In this reading, Jesus focuses on someone who undoubtedly took his religious life very seriously, someone who truly was an example of faithful living. Remember, Pharisee was not the negative term then that it has become today. This Pharisee did not steal, was not an adulterer; he kept the commandments. He was faithful in worship. And he followed the Biblical teaching of the tithe, giving a tenth of his income back to God. And Jesus levels him.

Do you hear what Jesus is saying? How does it affect you? What thoughts do Jesus’ words provoke? What reaction? Assuming that you are a person who seeks to live a faithful life, who wants to do what you are supposed to do, what do you make of Jesus’ words? Words that condemn someone who did exactly what he was supposed to do?

I suppose one line of thought in response to Jesus might run, "Thank God I am not like that Pharisee. I know what I ought to do, but I often don’t do it. I do steal… nothing major, just some office supplies from work. Or, I am an adulterer… just once, it was a hard time in my life, I was young. And, well, I don’t tithe. Thank God I am not like that Pharisee; Jesus can’t be talking about me. That is indeed a startling reaction, but probably not the one Jesus had in mind.

More likely we might say, "Thank God I am not like that Pharisee, so full of self-righteousness." It is easy to imagine that Jesus is condemning the Pharisee’s attitude, not his actions. And Jesus speaks about the virtue of humility. So do all of the Pharisee’s good actions mean nothing, then? If a humble attitude is the key, then are we to interpret Jesus’ words as a challenge to be the most humble we can possibly be? If only I can be the most humble person here, not like that Pharisee, then God will favor me.

Two deep underlying assumptions plague our attempts to understand these words in our lives. They are assumptions so fundamental that we rarely acknowledge or recognize them. But they are false assumptions and they block our ability to truly be the people God would have us be.

First. We assume that we can earn salvation. If we just find the right key, the right program, then God will be happy with us and reward us with salvation. Second (and related to the first) we assume that in our effort to earn salvation, we can measure our success by comparing ourselves to others. These are natural assumptions to make; they hold true in virtually every other arena of our lives. But in our lives of faith, they are wrong.

Whenever we imagine that if we just tithe, if we just keep the commandments, or if we are just humble enough, then God will favor us, we are assuming that God’s favor is something we can earn. For much of its history the church has not helped. The church has fostered this assumption that there is a "right" program for faithful life, and if a person "sticks with the program", salvation will ensue. The Nutri-system approach to salvation. In the medieval Catholic Church this view was pervasive. Yet still today I frequently encounter people who think my job as a priest is to tell them the correct formula for living that will lead to spiritual success.

The whole assumption is wrong. The key to salvation is not something we can do; it is something that Jesus has done.

The pervasiveness of our assumption that salvation is something we can earn if we just get with the right formula and really try… the pervasiveness of this assumption is shown in how often we compare ourselves to others in our lives of faith. Like the Pharisee, it is easy for us to say, thank God I am not like that person; I am not an adulterer. I am not like those who never go to church, who don’t even have a church home. I am a member of St. Patrick’s, or at least I come when I can, and I think soon I’ll be able to come more often. Or maybe you say, thank God I am not like those people who always say they are going to come more often but never do; I am in my pew every Sunday. I am not like those who steal. I am not like… Please God; tell me I’m doing OK… I must be, because I’m doing better than all of those other people.

Or maybe in your own mind you always come up short in the comparisons. I’ll never be acceptable to God because I’m not as smart, not as spiritual, not as charitable, not as dedicated as others.

It’s still a comparison. It’s still based on the assumption that salvation is something human beings can achieve if we just get it right and try hard enough. Salvation is not something we do; it is something Jesus has done. Salvation is something Jesus has done. Already. Now that ought to get a reaction!

Salvation is something Jesus has already done for all of us. Thank God I am like other people. Jesus’ parable was meant to shock. Perhaps it is shocking to realize that we are just like other people. That what we have in common—our salvation through Christ—far transcends any human division or distinction. In our standing before God each one of us is no less, no better, than anyone else. The next time someone asks you if you "have been saved?" say, "yes, praise God, I have—two thousand years ago on a cross on Calvary." The answer may be glib, but it is true. Thank God I am like other people! A sinner redeemed by Christ.

So if Jesus has already saved us, does it matter what we do with our lives? How we live? Listen to the opening lines of one of our hymns for the Eucharist:

Because I am forgiven, loved and free, I come here—I attend church regularly—I come here with joy to offer praise, to share communion with the one who has loved and forgiven me. I come to worship the one who has given me freedom. Given what Jesus has done, how could I not offer thanksgiving, praise and worship? Many people who have been given a second chance at life, or who have lived in a time when many have died, find a renewed sense of wonder and thankfulness for their lives and feel moved to live as truly and fully as possible. "I come," the hymn says, "in awe and wonder to recall his life laid down for me." Thank God I am like other people. Jesus died for me. Jesus died for you. How will you respond?

Listen to the rest of the hymn:

Comments are welcome.  Send to krisorr@att.net

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