20th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C Proper 25
The Rev. Margaret Dyer-Chamberlain
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, October 23, 2022
Jeremiah 14:7-10,19-22 • 2 Timothy 4:6-8,16-18 • Luke 18:9-14
May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and the actions of our lives be acceptable in your sight, Oh God our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
Good morning people of Holy Innocents.
There is a lot to ponder in our readings this morning, and when I first studied them I wasn’t quite seeing how they all fit together. And then, as sometimes (but not always) happens, I began to see a pathway through these texts to connect the dots. I’ll share my thought pattern with you this morning and you can see what you think.
I’ll begin with our rather tricky parable from Luke, and then I’ll work my way backwards to the other readings.
You may be wondering why I call this parable tricky. Well, on the face of it, this parable is often interpreted as being a lesson from Jesus that instructs us to be humble and to not exalt ourselves over others. And that’s in there – but there’s more to it than that. We are presented with two very different life stories – the first is the story of a Pharisee who is following the rules of his faith and mostly doing things “right” – although he is a bit on the self-congratulatory side and seems to view himself as “better” than others. Something that Jesus clearly discouraged. The second story is of a tax collector, a profession looked down upon in Jesus’ time. The tax collector is beating his breast and saying he needs mercy because he has sinned. On the face of it, he doesn’t seem especially humble in his approach to God – in fact he is not even looking up to heaven. Does he seem a bit opportunistic in his plea? Is he sorry for his actions? We don’t really know.
But then – the tax collector is the one who becomes justified in this story – being justified here means being lifted up by God. And the Pharisee is being taken down a peg or two – humbled - even though he seems to be a mostly good guy. It causes us to wonder - what exactly is going on here?
As often happens in life, there is a good/bad binary running through this parable. The Pharisee is thinking that, because he is following all of the rules and living a faithful life, he is somehow good, set apart, better than others – certainly better than thieves, rogues, adulterers......better than a tax collector. He believes that he is somehow favored by God. We don’t know much about the tax collector’s intention – all we really know about him is that he is admitting he’s a sinner and asking for God’s mercy.
And so the thing about this tricky parable is that while it seems to be comparing the two men – the self-satisfied Pharisee and the sinning tax collector ------ it’s actually not about either one of them. Instead, I think this parable is about the expansive, grace-filled, infinite mercy of God. Because God is there for both the Pharisee and the tax collector – and for all of us – no matter who we are, how righteous or flawed we may seem, how perfect (or not) we try to be. Whatever kind of life stories we are living. At the end of the day, those who are exalted will be humbled and those who are humbled will be exalted. Everyone is under the love and care of God. Everyone depends on, and can rely on, God’s mercy and wisdom.
The Jeremiah lesson echoes this theme, tracing the foibles of human life. We humans have a lot of troubles. As the text notes, our apostasies are many, we have sinned against God, we look for peace but find no good, we acknowledge our wickedness, the list goes on and on. And our questions for God abound too in this reading – Why should you, God, be like a stranger in the land? Why should you be like someone confused, like a mighty warrior who cannot give us help?
As we think about our darkest nights and deepest fears, does this resonate with us? Have there been times in our lives that we can’t find the strength and presence of God? Have we had intense doubts? This is part of the human condition – darkness, doubt, fear, worry.
And yet – even amidst the darkness in the picture painted by Jeremiah, there is hope. The text points out - “Yet you, O Lord, are in the midst of us, and we are called by your name.” And “We set our hope on you.” Today’s psalm repeats this notion – “Happy are the people whose strength is in you.”
These same themes are raised up in Paul’s letter to Timothy. This is a letter that seems to begin with such a positive and triumphant vibe – “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” Paul writes. But then he alludes to having been rescued and saved by God. “The Lord stood by me and gave me strength” Paul writes. He expresses deep gratitude to the God who watches over him.
This is powerful hope – it comes from a God who loves each and every living creature and who meets us wherever we are on our journeys of faith. I think that’s something else that our parable today so strongly teaches us – that our journeys of faith, our life stories, might all be quite different – but they lead to the same place – to the mercy of God. And we’re not so different from one another, us struggling humans living out our lives, because we are all beloved children of God. We are all worth of mercy and we all have the potential to find hope and grace. It behooves all of us to practice gratitude.
Each St. Francis day at noon, a group of us from St. Aidan’s go to the Upper Douglass dog park near the church to bless dogs. We post flyers a few weeks before to let people know that we are coming. In secular San Francisco, at a time of great skepticism about religion, we arrive each year to find a long line of dogs and their human companions waiting for us. People sometimes request particular prayers for their dogs – “I’d love for Milo to be a little less anxious” or “It would be nice if Sasha got along with our cat a little better.” The most common request is for long life and good health. People sometimes ask us if we might provide a blessing for themselves or for a loved one. Some people come with sick dogs or with requests for us to bless pets who have died. We’ve even blessed a cat and a bird that ventured amidst the canines. Some folks give us what one of my colleagues calls “the side eye” – a look conveying “don’t come over here giving your blessings to my dog.” But most people welcome us.
Scot Sherman is our interim priest at St. Aidan’s, while Cameron Partridge is on sabbatical, and he joined our dog park blessing this year. Scot’s observation was that the blessings in the dog park felt even more holy than the blessings we offered within our church walls. I have felt that sacredness too at the dog park - although I hadn’t quite put it into the words that Scot did. And I’ve been wondering – indeed marveling - about this ever since Scot brought it up.
This wondering brings me back to today’s parable from Luke – because I think the holiness that we have found in the dog park is due to the fact God is so clearly present with us there – just as God was present with both the Pharisee and the tax collector. God didn’t need to be confined to a church, or only amidst believers. Or only with the “good” as opposed to the sinners. Instead, God was crossing boundaries, present with each and every creature, offering blessings and love. Everyone needed God’s love. God was at the dog park! Jesus was at the dog park too. Today’s teaching from Jesus reminds us of the expansive nature of God, and my hope is that it encourages us to reflect on how we might bring this all-encompassing, all-welcoming God into our lives and into our world. Our world needs that care and inclusive openness. Our world needs that kind of unconditional love.
There’s one last thing that this Gospel from Luke, this teaching from Jesus, brings to my mind, as I think about the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, and about how important it is to share and understand our stories as we make our way through life. I recently read a small memoire by Frederick Buechner called Telling Secrets – and he wrote:
“My story is important not because it is mine...but because if I tell it anything like right, the chances are you will recognize in many ways that it is also yours. Maybe nothing is more important than that we keep track, you and I, of these stories of who we are and where we have come from and the people we have met along the way --- because it is precisely through these stories in all their particularity...that God is known to each of us most powerfully and personally.”
And so I pray for us, as we continue to think about this tricky story from the Gospel of Luke - that we consider the stories of our lives – stories that might seem separate and particular, but are each seen and cared for by the broad, powerful and inclusive love of God. May we recall the hope expressed by Jeremiah, particularly in the hardest of times. May we see God everywhere – in the dog park as well as in our beloved church buildings. And, with the gratitude modeled by Paul, may we thank God for mercy and grace.
Amen.