Today's readings are an embarassment of riches. Well, we live in a new guilded age complete with robber barons. And so, the phrase "embarassment of riches" means little-to-nothing to many people. Nonetheless, let's use some of these treasures of wisdom and truth.
One doesn't have to be too attentive to realize that at its heart Christianity is a religion of paradox. Yes, I mean r-e-l-i-g-i-o-n, which is not a bad word!. It is worth adding that true religion doesn't just lead to relationship, it is relationship, that is, communion.
The paradoxical nature of being Christian is brought into full relief by Christ Himself at the end of today's Gospel when He clearly teaches that those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves, or let themselves be humbled, will be exalted.
The kenotic hymn found in the second chapter of Saint Paul's Letter to the Philippians holds that Christ the Lord "humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross," which is precisely why He was exalted!1.
This hymn brings together the paradox found in today's Gospel with the major Christian paradox: by seeking to save your life you lose it and it is by losing your life for Christ's sake, or after the pattern of Christ, that you save it.
There is a thread that runs through the narrative of Philip Roth's novel Sabbath's Theater that helps flesh this message out: "Whoever imagines himself to be pure is wicked!" Speaking of the Pharisee and the tax collector respectively, Jesus says "the latter went home justified, not the former."2
The Pharisee remains unjustified because he cannot, meaning he is utterly, even ontologically, incapable, of justifying himself. Conversely, it is the tax collector, who knows he cannot justify himself, who leaves justified, not just "in the sight of God" but by God. What is required is true repentance, taking a good, hard look at your life and the ways you fall short. It's strange to me that such a suggestion, even among Christians, is now seen as an affront.
Today's Gospel reading is another of those parables only found in Saint Luke's Gospel. The central figure in each of these parables is the Gentile, the unclean person, the person deeply aware of his own flaws. These are those who gain divine favor, who do the right thing, who are apppropriately (i.e., deeply) grateful. In short, it is a Samaritan or a tax collector, not not the member of God's chosen people, but the outsider.
During his papacy, Pope Francis took aim at a certain forms of Catholic pharisaism, which not only still persist but seem to be catching. It's a works based righteousness. As with the Pharisees of old (i.e., the scrupuously observant Jews, especially those who looked down on others), Francis' criticisms along these lines didn't land well with many members of the clergy and laity alike. But then truth rarely does, especially in our post-truth/alternative fact era. Increasingly, it seems we can't handle the truth.
Christianity is lived in either the first person plural or the first person singular. Weirdly, despite it being an attempt to make us face ourselves, this parable almost always puts the listener in mind of someone other than himself. Realzing this should have the effect of a "'Gotcha!'"
What the tax collector uttered, while being so deeply aware of his own unworthiness that he couldn't even lift his gaze heavenwward, became the core of what is now known as the Jesus Prayer, the most incisive iteration of which is- "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me the sinner."3
When it comes to rightousness, making another person the basis of your comparison is damnably silly. No matter how righteous or "pure" s/he might be, that person is flawed, sinful in some respect. Even Saint Paul urges ancient Christians in Corinth to imitate him only to the extent he imitated Christ.4 When it comes to holiness, righteousness, purity, Jesus Christ is the measure.
I have Good News and bad news. Bad news first: on your own, try as you might, you'll never measure up, ever, not in a million billion years! Being truly human Jesus Christ measured up. But, being truly God, He had no need to do so for Himself. He measured up for you and for me as well as anyone who would believe in Him and repent.
Repentance means ever so much more than merely being sorry for one's sins- though that is the beginning. To repent means committing to change and recognizing you need God's help to do so.
What do you do in confession except judge yourself in order to humble yourself? What else do you do in making your Act of Contrition in confession other than say, "Lord Jesus Christ, be merciful to me, a sinner"? Blessed, indeed, are the in the poor in spirit.
In our Collect for this Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, we implore God to "increase our faith, hope, and charity, and make us love what you command, so that we may merit what you promise."5 While God's grace elicits and even actively solicits our cooperation, faith, hope, and charity, being theological virtues, are gifts from God, which is a way of saying these are graces.
It is by loving what God commands that one can "merit" what God promises. What does God command? Loving Him with your entire being and loving your neighbor as you love yourself. You have to love loving. You can do this because you were first loved.6
What, then, does God promise? Eternal life. Eternal life, too, is a gift. But like all gifts, it must be accepted. A gift not accepted isn't a gift.
Bear in mind that eternal life isn't the life the starts at mortal death. It begins when you die and rise with Christ through Baptism by the power of the Holy Spirit. It comes about through faith, which is a prerequisite for being baptized. Eternal life is life in the Spirit. It is the Spirit that enables the faithful to make God's kingdom a present reality.
New life starts with a death. Kill your pride before it kills you.
1 See Philippians 2:5-11.↩
2 Luke 18:14.↩
3 Luke 18:13.↩
41 Corinthians 11:1.↩
5 Roman Missal. Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time.↩
6 1 John 4:10.↩
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