He also told this
parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised
others.[1]
St. Luke, upon stating this, goes on
to recite the parable of the prayers of the Pharisee and the tax
collector. After reading this, I assume,
all of us put ourselves in the shoes of the tax collector. We should not be so quick to do this. In order for this passage to benefit us, we
need to see ourselves as the Pharisee.
Otherwise, we presume upon something that we are not. When it is all said and done, we trust in
ourselves that we are righteous, and how often do we unconsciously despise
others because they like something that we do not or are doing something that
we do not agree with. That, in a
nutshell, is the Pharisee. Oftentimes,
when someone attempts to enlighten us in what we are actually doing, we will vehemently
disagree. That is the Pharisee. We, like him, trust in ourselves that we are
righteous; and, therefore, we despise others.
If someone had approached the
Pharisee and asked him, “Do you place your trust in God or yourself,” he would
have said, “God.” We would say
likewise. Nevertheless, how often we
place our trust in what we think and do—just as the Pharisee did. “O God,
I thank you that I am not … greedy, dishonest, [or] adulterous... I fast twice a
week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.[2] I am a greeter; I am a reader. Look how many ministries I am a part of.” We may not say those actual words; however,
that is what is in the back of our minds.
In order to put this in the proper
perspective, it would behoove us to place this in the context of Sundays
readings (i.e. Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B).
All the … the people likewise were
exceedingly unfaithful, following all the abominations of the nations; and they
polluted the house of the Lord which he had hallowed in Jerusalem. The Lord … sent persistently to them by his
messengers, because he had compassion on his people and on his dwelling place;
but they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words, and scoffing
at his prophets, till the wrath of the Lord rose against his people, till there
was no remedy.[3] For
the people, what the majority of others were thinking and saying sounded more
reasonable to them than what the prophets were saying. When God sent his prophets to warn them of
pending judgment, the words of the false prophets that God loved them and good
times could be had now and in the near future were far more pleasant to their
ears than the warnings of doom. Even
when the hard times began to take place, it was the words of the nearness of
good times that was foremost in their minds.
We are in Lent, a penitent season;
nevertheless, is it penitence that is foremost in our minds? We have the daily readings of the Church,
imploring us to repent; and, yet, repent is not what we are doing. We do not take it to heart. “Forty days and you will be overcome!” “No, I don’t think so.” Forty days prior—and even more—our Lord was
preparing for the day that his body was to be overcome. When the days drew near for
him to be received up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.[4] He
sent messengers ahead of him … to make ready for him; but the people would not
receive him.[5] Do we take this to heart? No. We
have things to do, things to take care of.
It is just Lent. We’ve gone
through so many Lents previously; nothing has happened. Nothing will happen this year either. We are Catholic, and we go to Mass every
week. “I’m okay.” We hear God’s word; however, they have little
impact. We’re okay doing what we are
doing. “I am righteous enough.” “But
take heed to yourselves lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life, and
that day come upon you suddenly like a snare; for it will come upon all who
dwell upon the face of the whole earth.[6] For the majority of us, “dissipation”
consists of our indulgences, and “drunkenness” would consist of our favorite
pastimes, whether they be sports, hobbies, TV, etc. Of course, “cares of this life” are exactly
that. The cares of this life are so irresistible
that we really do not have time for Lent.
When the people of Israel were
extremely unfaithful, God sent hardships and bad times to them in order to gain
their repentance. It was to no
avail. Like us, they took hardships and
bad times, as we do, as a fact of life.
Everyone is going to face hardships; that is a fact of life. We do not look at them as guideposts from
God, leading us to repentance. God even
gives us the Lenten season—to no avail.
O that we would plead as the psalmist: If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand
wither! Let my tongue cleave to the roof
of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my
highest joy![7] “Oh, Lord, do
something drastic to me if I should become insensitive to you, calloused. Do something drastic to bring me to
repentance.” God is doing everything in
his power, aside from force, to turn us back to him. When
you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants;
we have done what we were obliged to do.’”[8] We have done nothing to earn
anything; we are only doing what we are required to do, and there are many
things that we are not doing. We have
earned nothing. “Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from
plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your
place at table’? Would he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for me to
eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and
drink when I am finished’? Is he grateful to that servant because he did what
was commanded? So should it be with you.[9] God is continuously putting
things before us to get us to repent.
What more can he do? He has given
us a free will; therefore, he will not force us. What more must he do in order to bring us to
repentance, to a deep desire to be an image of his Son?
Let us give heed to the words of God
through the prophet Hosea: “Come, let us
return to the Lord; for he has torn, that he may heal us; he has stricken, and
he will bind us up. After two days he
will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up, that we may live before
him. Let us know, let us press on to
know the Lord; his going forth is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the
showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.” What shall I do with you, O Ephraim?
What shall I do
with you, O Judah? Your love is like a morning cloud, like the dew that goes early away (emphasis added). Therefore,
I have hewn them by the prophets [by the Catholic Church]; I have slain them by the words of my
mouth, and my judgment goes forth as the light. For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice,
the knowledge of God, rather than burnt offerings.”[10]
In conclusion, may we not fall into
Satan’s trap, thinking that we do not need to be turned back to God, that that
only applies to our neighbor. No, let us
implore God to make us as the psalmist and cry out: Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy steadfast love; according to
thy abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and
cleanse me from my sin![11] The
sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O
God, thou wilt not despise.[12] It is only in this way that we become like the
tax collector. In any other way, we are
just imitating the Pharisee. Let us pray,
imploring our God to make us “see” and “hear” our need of repentance, imploring
him to turn us back to him for we are unable to turn ourselves. This is what the parable and the tax
collector is about. The tax collector sees
his inability to turn; therefore, he cries out, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!”[13] Yes, the Pharisee was not
an extortioner, was not unjust in the eyes of man, was not an adulterer, fasted,
and tithed; nonetheless, regardless of these good works, he was not
justified. He regarded himself as a
profitable servant. We know that we sin,
that we need God; however, we don’t know it, because we don’t feel
it. Just like the Pharisee, we thank God
that we are not like others. Thus, we
are praying with ourselves. Only God can
make
us really see our need. Thus, we pray
like the tax collector, “God, be merciful
to me a sinner!”[14] It
is more than just mere words; it is the true, heart-felt knowledge that we need
mercy, along with the rest of the world. We must see that our love of God is, indeed, like a morning cloud, like the dew that goes early away. This is what Mass is about.
[1]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Lk 18:9.
[2] New American Bible,
Revised Edition., (Washington, DC: The United States Conference of Catholic
Bishops, 2011), Lk 18:11–12.
[3]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), 2 Ch 36:14–16.
[5] Ibid.,
Lk 9:52–53.
[6] Ibid.,
Lk 21:34–35.
[7] Ibid.,
Ps 137:5–6.
[8] New American Bible,
Revised Edition., (Washington, DC: The United States Conference of Catholic
Bishops, 2011), Lk 17:10.
[9] Ibid.,
Lk 17:7–10.
[10]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Ho 6:1–6.
[11] Ibid.,
Ps 51:1–2.
[12] Ibid.,
Ps 51:17.
[13] Ibid.,
Lk 18:13.
[14] Ibid.
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