Luke 18:9-14

The great Russian novelist Dostoevsky tells the story of a woman who somehow winds up in hell. There, in agony, she complains that there must be some mistake. She cannot bear the misery and cries out to God for mercy.

God hears her plea and is moved with pity. “If you can remember one good deed you did in your lifetime, I can help you,” says the Lord.

The woman thinks back over the course of her life and a dim memory begins to emerge. “I once gave an onion to my starving neighbor,” she sobs.

In that very instant, God – in his mysterious ways – produces the very onion she gave her starving neighbor – stem and all. God lowers the onion toward her, and she grabs on as God lifts her out of the depths. But just then, other people who are also in that miserable place grab hold of her ankles to be lifted out with her. The woman begins to kick and scream for them to let go even though the stem of the onion is strong enough to save them all. But her violent thrashing about, trying to dislodge her companions becomes too much for the onion. The stem snaps, and both the woman and her companions fall back into the depths.

In today’s Scripture lesson, Jesus encounters us with a challenging truth. Its the same thought Dosteovsky poignantly captures in this story about the woman. And here’s the moral of the story:

Sometimes, the very things we THINK will get us to heaven, turn out instead to be what drop us from grace into emptiness.

Jesus tells us that two men go up to the Temple to pray, one a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing in the center of the sanctuary, walks directly into the spotlight of God’s presence, lifts his arms and prays:

“God! I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers…Unitarians, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Congregationalists… welfare recipients….Alabama fans…or even like this dirty rotten tax collector over there in the shadows. I fast twice a week! I give a tenth of all my income. I am a GOOD person, Lord, and I DO good things! God, to quote the poet: ‘I think that I shall never see a person quite as good as me!’ Praise be to God!”

Meanwhile, the tax collector, hiding in the wings, too embarrassed to even show his face, drops on his knees, beats on his breast, and cries out, “Oh God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

I think the first time I heard this parable was when I was a young Sunday School student. And what I remember most about it was how we talked about what an idiot the Pharisee was and what a genuine person was the tax collector. That’s not a hard choice to make. I mean, how many of you would rather be the Pharisee than the tax collector? How many of you would rather be the tax collector than the Pharisee? Even we Sunday School kids had no trouble making that distinction. And as the class ended, we prayed a prayer that went something like this:

“God, we thank you that we are not like that old Pharisee…!”

…which, when you think about it, is exactly the same prayer the Pharisee prayed in the parable!

You see, here is the genius of Jesus at work. If you’ve never really studied his life and teachings, you’re missing out on some incredible ways of seeing life differently than ever before. And in this story, what Jesus does is to lure us into choosing between this arrogant, self-righteous Pharisee and this very humble and broken tax collector. And we DO choose between them. Most of us decide to side with the tax collector and reject the Pharisee. And, as soon as we make that choice, do you see what happens? We BECOME like the PHARISEE!

“God, I am SO glad, I’m not like THAT other guy!”

I think one of the things Jesus wants us to learn from this parable is that, even though we are Christians who’ve given our lives to God, we are still far, far, far away from living lives, and thinking thoughts that are like God’s.

How easily we turn the measure of our lives against other people.

Former Senator Bill Bradley tells the story of attending a political dinner in Washington when a waiter came around with the butter. “I’d like two pats of butter, if I may, please,” said Senator Bradley.

“Sorry, sir,” the waiter replied, “its one to a customer.”

“Well,” the Senator responded, “I guess you don’t know who I am. I am a senior member of the United States Senate. Before that, I was an all-star basketball player for the New York Knicks. And before that I was a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford.”

The waiter was unimpressed. “Well, I guess YOU don’t know who I am,” he retorted.

“No, I don’t,” said Bradley. “Who ARE you?”

The waiter drew himself up to his full 5 feet, five inches, and proudly said, “I, SIR, AM THE GUY WITH THE BUTTER!”

As in all of life, in the Christian walk, we get ourselves into real trouble when we begin to measure our lives against others. And the trouble is not only that we can easily misunderstand and underestimate other people, but – even more importantly – that we lose sight of God in the process.

You see, this is not really a parable about the behavior of a Pharisee contrasted with the behavior of a tax collector. Oh no, this is not a parable about how people behave. This is a parable about how GOD behaves.

Two men come to the Temple to pray, each one hoping God will justify them. Two people stand in the presence of God, one righteous Pharisee, one ungodly tax collector.

And God draws close to the ungodly one!

How strange! Why would God do such a thing?

Jesus once said that he came into the world not to save the righteous, but the unrighteous. He said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.” He ate with tax collectors and sinners, and welcomed into his presence the poor, the lame, the lost and lepers. Like his Heavenly Father in the parable, Jesus drew near to the ungodly and broken.

I don’t understand the WHY of all this, but what I have come to understand is that God has a burning passion for loving and lifting up those who are down.

This is grace.

It can’t be earned. It can’t be achieved. It can’t be deserved.

Grace can only be received.

Two people came into the Temple that day. One stood up and tried to seize it. The other just fell down and hoped it might somehow find him. And grace did.

You may have come here today, carrying with you deep, broken pieces of the puzzle of your life. They may be personal failures. They may be things beyond your control. Whatever burdens you bear today, I want you to know there is grace here. God loves you. God understands. God’s hand reaches out to lift you up.

And there’s nothing you can do to get this grace. All you can do is accept it as a gift.

And in receiving grace, you and I are sent to dispense it in the world. You see, grace is the church’s great distinctive. As Philip Yancey says, “It’s the one thing the world can’t duplicate, and the one thing it craves above all else. For only grace can bring hope and transformation to a jaded world.”

Over the course of the past several weeks, I have been deeply moved by our mission speakers. From the young people who are recipients of scholarships granted by our church; to Iva Evans and her humble work at Feed My Children Missionary; to Hugh Bershear and the ministry we share together through Habitat For Humanity.

These are all illustrations of God’s passion for loving and lifting those who are down. It is grace poured out through your hands.

But let me caution you. There is something of the Pharisee in all of us. Its easy to take the grace we have received, and rather than dispense it to others, use it as a measuring stick by which we separate ourselves from those we consider less deserving. Like the woman in Dostoevsky’s story, its tempting to hold onto that big onion of our own blessing, all the while kicking others away. And the very thing we think has saved us, drops us from grace into the depths.

Look around you today. Are we not a people who have been blessed in amazing ways? God has been so good to us!

I thank the Lord for you who take the grace of God received, and carry it out to share with others. This is the gift of a humanly humble heart.

And it is the gift that will change the world!