Summary: A sermon for the Sunday following Pentecost, Year C, Lectionary 30

October 23, 2022

Hope Lutheran Church

Rev. Mary Erickson

Luke 18:9-14

The Unexpected Gift at the Foot of the Cross

Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.

What are the fibers binding groups together? It depends on the group.

• For college alumni societies, it’s their mutual connection to their alma mater. Their love for the college and common memories bind them together.

• Packer fans definitely are bound by their love of the Green Bay Packers. You can go to any major city, or even some places overseas, and find a Packer bar.

These groups create their own subculture. For instance, take the cheese wedge crown, jerseys bearing the number of your favorite player, the Lambeau Leap. They signal to fellow Packer fans.

High schools have very interesting cultures. They have subcultures within the larger context of the school: the jocks, band members, industrial arts students, math nerds. Then throw in race, class and gender distinctions and you have a highly complex cultural system. And yet students very quickly calculate the ins and outs and ups and downs.

Each group and society known to humankind has something that connects them. As a community of faith, what binds us together?

Today we hear a parable of Jesus. And Luke shares the context which prompted Jesus to tell it. He was addressing a group of people who “trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.”

These people have assessed others in their faith community and made judgements about them. They’ve constructed rankings about who is more or less righteous.

What holds them together as a community of faith? In their context, they’ve ordered their religious community into hierarchical divisions from righteous and acceptable to condemned and despised.

So Jesus tells them a story. He means to challenge and shake up their righteous judgements. The story involves two men. They couldn’t be more different from one another. The one is a respected Pharisee, a holy man, devoted to his faith. The other is a tax collector. He’s sold out his fellow Israelites to the Roman government so that he can line his own pockets.

Both men come to the temple area in Jerusalem. The temple complex is already laid out in a very segregated way. It radiates outward in consecutive rings of holiness. At the very center is the Holy of Holies. Only the chief priest can enter this alcove in the rear of the temple. Next comes the rest of the temple interior. Only priests are allowed in the temple, no laity. Just outside of the temple building is the Courtyard of Israel. Jewish males can enter this area but no further. And outside the Court of Israel is the Court of Women. This is as far inward as Jewish women can enter. And surrounding all of this is the Court of the Gentiles. Unclean Gentiles are not allowed to enter further within the temple complex. Gates and fences and curtains keep each group within the confines of the area where they are allowed.

These two men have come to the temple to pray. And Jesus tells us that both of them are contained by circles of separation.

First, the Pharisee. When he prays, he stands by himself to utter his self-righteous prayer. “I thank you that I’m not like other people, God. I’m better than them. Look what I do.” He stands apart both literally and figuratively. This man has drawn a line of separation between himself and everyone else. It’s self-imposed.

The tax collector barely allows himself to enter the space of the other Israelites. Jesus says he stands far off. He stands along the perimeter and doesn’t dare approach other people. Nevertheless, he’s drawn to God. He wants, he needs to be near God. He’s drawn in by God, but he’s skittish by the scorn of other people. He makes his prayer standing as far removed from others as possible.

Lines of division. The righteous Pharisee draws one around himself to separate his fellow believers from him. The tax collector stands outside of the line drawn by polite society to exclude him.

But there’s a twist to Jesus’ story. The tax collector prays a raw prayer, he bares his soul to God. HIS prayer is heard and he goes home justified before God. But the Pharisee…well, there was nothing to forgive. He didn’t ask for it. He didn’t need God because he was right within himself.

The tax collector prayed, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner!” Biblical commentator Bruce Epperly says, “This prayer is the beginning and end of the spiritual journey.”

Back to our original question: what binds us together as a community in Christ? The tax collector’s prayer illuminates it perfectly. What binds us together, what we all have in common is our reliance upon the mercy of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. We all stand in the need of divine mercy and grace. Our realization of this drives all of us to the very same place, to the foot of the cross. And standing there, we receive the most unexpected gift. There, at the foot of Jesus’ cross, we receive the communion of saints, our brothers and sisters in Christ.

The cross of Jesus is what binds us all together in Christian community. We’re all on equal footing there. In the shadow of the cross we realize that we’re not better than anyone else gathered there. The prayer “Lord have mercy on me” gives us the common bond drawing us together. It blesses us with Christian community.

The foot of the cross, this is our base camp. This is our center, and we dare not move from it. There are many other attractive possibilities: righteousness, good works. But if we move away from the cross, not only will we lose our savior, we’ll also lose the priceless blessing of the communion of saints.

There are many people alive today who feel much more similar to the tax collector than they do the Pharisee. They, too, feel drawn to be in relationship with God. And yet, they’re not sure how they will be accepted in Christian churches. In so many ways, society has made it clear to them that they are not welcome. And the church may also have been part of that exclusionary chorus. In the intersectionality of our human gatherings they’ve received the message that they are unacceptable.

Be it race or gender or socio-economic status, whether it be due to their sexual expression or political leaning or a physical handicap, their intelligence or unique quirks, they’re looked on with contempt. And now, like the tax collector, they approach the church with hesitation. They linger around the perimeter, afraid to enter. They want to enter, they yearn for a means to connect with God and to be embraced in the fellowship of believers. But they’ve been knocked down more times than they can count.

How can we send a clear message that they are welcome, that all are welcome? How can we let them know that we are a place where they will be embraced in the name of Christ?

This is why we’ve had a task force exploring the possibility of a welcome statement for our congregation. In a few weeks they’ll begin a process where we as a faith community can consider and discuss how we can expand our welcoming spirit as a congregation. The main purpose of a welcoming statement is to communicate to people outside of our faith community who wonder if our fellowship would include them. I invite you to take part in this process.

One more thing about Jesus’ parable. He says that the tax collector is standing far off. Jesus tells another story about someone who is far off, the Prodigal Son. While the Prodigal Son is still far off, his loving father sees him and runs in welcome to his long-lost son. In both stories, the one who is far off is recognized and heard and welcomed.

For all of us, when we feel far off and unseen, our loving heavenly Father sees us and draws near.

Our faith community finds its common connection in the Lord, at the foot of his cross. We look to him for life and healing and forgiveness. And when we gather there, may we also discover the great communion of saints in all our splendor and variety.