Sermon Text: Luke 18.9-14 Title: "Be Merciful..."

Preached: October 18, 1998

In our division of household responsibilities, I have been left with the grocery shopping duties. This is an area of agreement. The stated justification for this division of responsibility is that since I do more of the cooking, I usually have a better idea of the ingredients I'll need. The real reason is more along the lines of: where Lynnette views pushing a cart around as a time-consuming chore, I view it as an adventure of discovery. For some reason, I like searching the aisles for potentially delightful treats.

Of course, my approach has its good side and its bad side. It means that our meals together are more interesting, for instance. But it also means that I take a lot longer to shop than Lynnette. And it also means that, while I fill up the cart with a lot of unexpected treasure, I sometimes forget what I came to get in the first place. We do make lists, but I normally forget the list on the refrigerator. So while I pick up lots of neat stuff, and while I remember some of the forgotten list, I often end up coming home without getting what I went for.

Today we heard a story told by Luke's Jesus about a person who comes home without getting what he went for; it's also about another person, with a much shorter list, who goes home with, perhaps, even more than he went for. Most of us know the story. Many of us have heard sermons preached from it. Just about all of us would expect a sermon preached on this text would, at some point, try to make members of the congregation feel guilty about being hypocritically self-righteous. I prefer to stake out neutral territory. Because I believe that the passage points out what First Baptist, normally, does right and well.

But let's first take a look at what's happening in the context of the passage. Jesus tells the story, according to Luke, because some people "trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt." In other words, he had met some folks who thought they were way up here [imagine the preacher's hand held up about head high], and other folks were...[imagine the same hand held down below the back of the pulpit] We know folks like that. Hey, we've BEEN folks like that.

So Jesus tells the story, two people went to pray in the temple. One is a Pharisee, who is extremely faithful in the practice of his faith. He gives ten percent of his income to the temple and he fasts twice a week, as a religious discipline. We assume, from his prayer, that he also does not steal, lie, cheat, or sleep around.

The other character is a tax collector, which could mean anything from a wealthy overseer of a large district to a poor and struggling local collection agent. The story says nothing to indicate that he cheats his collectees in any way. All we know from his prayer is that he considers himself a sinner.

So what about the two prayers? The first prayer is sort of a praise prayer. The Pharisee thanks God for his good fortune. He's thankful that he's to not a thief, or a rogue, or an adulterer, or even a tax collector. He's also thankful that he's been able to fast and tithe. Praise God. The tax collector's prayer is a bit shorter, a bit simpler: "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

Both prayers seem okay, on the surface. Yet Jesus makes a judgement at the end of the story which is stunning, which shapes our reaction. He says the tax collector went home from the temple justified; and he implies that the Pharisee went home, well, "unjustified." He went home without what he came for. Filtered down through all the years of Christian heritage, we, too, kind of listen to the story and say, well, yeah, the tax collector is doing the right thing, offering a good prayer; but the Pharisee is, at best, missing the point... But why? What exactly is wrong with the Pharisee's prayer?

It may be helpful to think a little about why we come to this beautiful, wood-enriched, stained glass painted "Temple." For, after all, we do regard this sanctuary as, somehow, holy space -- we know that God is present in our every day lives, but, we come here to especially feel that presence. When we come to this temple, what do we hope to go home with? What's the most important thing on your spiritual grocery list?

My guess is that everyone's expectations for what will happen in worship are a little different. But I also guess that, at some level, we all have the same need as the tax-collector of Jesus' story. We feel a need for "justification," a need to feel as if our lives have been made right with God. Justification is generally thought of as being forgiven by God, and that's exactly how the tax-collector wants to be justified, but it can be other things as well.

We might need to feel that our relationship with God has been made right, that it's still working for us -- "God be merciful to me, I'm a sinner and don't always know when you're really working in my life." We might be searching for direction in our lives, -- "God, be merciful to me, a sinner, and show me the path I need to follow." We might need to understand what our lives mean, -- "God, be merciful to me, a sinner, and help me understand your wider context for my trials and tribulations." We might simply need assurance: "God, be merciful to me, a sinner; reassure me that there is hope in my future, that your promises still stand, that you do care..."

For justification in these, and other ways, we come to the temple. When what we do together here does not address any of those needs, we may go home without feeling any justification -- we may go home without having touched base with our God of grace -- we go home without what we came for...

Two people went to the temple to pray. One spent the whole prayer time in praise and thanksgiving, mostly thanksgiving for personal stuff going right in his life that he really proud of. The other person spent the entire time of prayer humbly asking for God for justification. I worry that many larger American churches which are growing quickly in numbers have begun to concentrate so much on praise and thanksgiving that they have forgotten about justification. I really do believe in being grateful and offering praise, but we need congregations where people can go to find more than glib happiness.

Earlier I said that I believe that the passage points out what First Baptist, normally, does right and well. I believe that we offer people space and time within which they may search, ask, pray for God to be merciful, in many different ways. In our worship, but also through involvement in the different missions of the church, the Samaritan Center, the senior center, Seafarer's, this temple is still effective. We could use more missions; there are, for instance, people seeking God through Christian Education, if we only had a few more teachers. But the story is good news for us whenever we are finding God's mercy, somehow, in this place. (How are you seeking God here today?)

Yet, there is also a challenge in the story, for we are not always the person who is seeking mercy, not always the tax collector. Sometimes, like the Pharisee, we, too, begin to concentrate on all the stuff we have done really well -- the ways we have been righteous. Even when we say, for instance, "thank God we're not a mega-Church," we risk becoming the Pharisee. Our challenge is to concentrate on our own humility, thanking God for each other. My dream is that we would each become aware enough that when we begin to praise ourselves for our own accomplishments of faith, especially comparing ourselves very favorably against a brother or a sister -- my dream is that at that moment, we would catch ourselves, and switch our prayer to that of the tax-collector: "God, be merciful to me, a sinner," perhaps then offering a prayer of praise and thanksgiving for that other person.

Sisters and brothers, we have come from our homes to this place, this holy space, dedicated to God. And we are seekers after God's mercy, in many different ways. God's mercy is first on our list. Let us never be distracted by the colorful treats which adorn our world, nor deceived by self-promotion, nor lulled asleep by shallow praising. Instead, let us come with full humility, a gathered community of the repentant, at prayer before God's throne, in need of mercy, dependent upon God's grace. And whatever else we pray for, may we always seek mercy enough that we go home with what we came for.