Sermon: "The Good and the Bad" (Luke 18: 9-14)

Every summer, the city of Long Beach shows movies in local parks. When Zootopia was scheduled

to be shown right here at Somerset Park – the same park where our youth often pick up litter on Sundays after church – Ginger and I grabbed our lawn chairs and headed over.

We found a spot on the grass and waited for it to get dark enough for the movie to start. A friend of mine arrived with his four year-old son, and they sat down next to us. Rajal and Rahail saw me and came over to say hi, then went back to where they were sitting.

And then, the movie began.

Now, if you haven’t seen the movie, here’s a mild spoiler: there are some plot twists. Things aren’t as they seem at the beginning.

And so when a certain character appeared on the giant inflatable screen for the first time, looking all sweet and innocent, the four year-old next to me – this wasn’t his first time seeing the movie – he stood up, pointed at the screen, and yelled for all to hear: “SHE’S BAD! SHE TURNS BAD!”

Like my four year-old friend, we want to know who’s good, and who’s bad. So let me tell you now: In the first century, Pharisees were good, and tax collectors were bad.

Pharisees were highly respected and admired. They were considered good and righteous, and people looked up to them and sought out their teachings.

Tax collectors, on the other hand, were bad. They were collaborators with the oppressive Roman Empire. They charged more than they were required to, and pocketed the difference. There was nothing good about tax collectors.

But here’s the thing: in Luke’s gospel, just like in the movie Zootopia, good and bad get switched around.

In Luke’s gospel, the Pharisees become bad, while the tax collectors repent and become good.

In fact, when we read through Luke’s gospel, by the time we get to the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple, we’ve already heard Luke declare multiple times that, despite what you may think, Pharisees are actually bad and tax collectors are actually good. Even though this is the exact opposite of how people thought of these two groups in the first century, Luke has drilled it into us.

Already, there have been at least six different scenes in Luke’s gospel in which tax collectors were presented as GOOD; this parable would be the seventh. And already, there have been at least 10 different scenes in Luke’s gospel in which Pharisees were presented as BAD. This parable would be the eleventh.

So, before we even get to the start of this story, Luke has already stood up six times, pointed at the screen, and said, “TAX COLLECTORS ARE GOOD!” And he has already stood up ten times, pointed, and said, “PHARISEES ARE BAD!”

In other words, the judgment has already been made. We haven’t even started the story yet; we don’t know anything yet about this particular Pharisee, or this particular tax collector. But it doesn’t matter. Luke has already told us: tax collectors are good, and Pharisees are bad. This is the opposite of what people thought in the first century, but Luke has already drilled it into us, and by now the reader is starting to believe…

So the parable starts, and we hear “two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector…” What more do we need to know? The Pharisee is already judged unfavorably, just because he is a Pharisee. The tax collector is already judged favorably, just because he is a tax collector. Luke has made this all so perfectly clear.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. At this point, some of you who know me well and have heard me preach before are thinking to yourselves, “Oh, great; this is the point in the sermon where the preacher’s going to throw in some information that will take what is perfectly clear and make it irritatingly ambiguous.”

I know. It’s annoying when that happens. We want the good and the bad to be clearly defined. It’s so much simpler when we can just say “Pharisees, bad; tax collectors, good.”

It’s so much simpler when we can just say: “Americans, good; immigrants, bad.”

It’s so much simpler when we can just say: “Christians, good; Muslims, bad.”

It’s so much simpler when we can just say: “white people, good; black people, bad.”

When I was a kid in school, it was the Russians who were bad. Then it was the Iranians. Then it was the Iraqis. Then it was feminists. Then it was homosexuals. Then it was Mexicans. Then it was people on welfare.

And at any given time, a preacher could preach a sermon against any of these groups, labelling them “BAD,” and draw quite a crowd. And maybe even receive applause at the end.

And it could have been so very easy for me to do. As a white, Protestant, heterosexual American male, I was always, always, labelled GOOD. I always get the benefit of the doubt. As the sheriff’s department in Anderson County, South Carolina would say, I couldn’t possibly be a terrorist; why? Because I’m white.

This, of course, is baloney. Terrorists come in all different colors, from all different religions. Some are even white Christians. History tells us that any time we say “All Christians are good, all Muslims are bad,” we are lying. History tells us that anytime we say “All white people are good, all black people are bad,” we are lying. History tells us that anytime we label the members of any group in this way, we are lying.

We see this in the Bible. To cite just one example: Jonah was sent by God to the people of Ninevah. The Ninevites, Jonah knew, were BAD. All of them. Every single one.

Jonah didn’t even see the point of preaching to them, so he went in the opposite direction.

Then God had a giant fish swallow Jonah and then vomit him up on shore, and this convinced Jonah to go to Ninevah.

But Jonah still believed that all the Ninevites were bad. He only preached half-heartedly. Then he waited for God to judge and condemn and destroy them. Because they were all BAD.

But the Ninevites repented. They weren’t all bad. God showed them mercy. And Jonah was infuriated. He was upset, because the simple “GOOD/BAD” dichotomy that existed in his mind was now shattered.

There are other examples. Moabites: are they good or bad? Gentiles: are they good or bad? Foreigners and eunuchs: are they good or bad? An ancient preacher could have preached against any of these groups and gotten a standing ovation. But scripture always challenges these preconceived notions of who’s good and who’s bad.

The Pharisee in the temple stands up and prays: “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I give a tenth of my income.”

It’s a prayer of thanks, which is good, with a little judgment mixed in, which is not good.

The tax collector, meanwhile, does not even look up to heaven, but beats his breast and prays, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

It’s a prayer for forgiveness, which is good…

And then it says that this man – the tax collector – went down to his home justified… rather than the other…

Amy Jill-Levine, a bible scholar, points out that this phrase–rather than–is a translation of the Greek word para (P-A-R-A). And para can mean “rather than,” or it can mean “alongside.” Think of two parallel lines, one alongside the other. Para-llel. Para.

Well, Luke decides that “para” in this case means “rather than,” which is the only way this could make sense to Luke, since he believed that Pharisees were bad and tax collectors were good. How could they be justified alongside each other if Pharisees were bad and tax collectors were good? If you believe that certain groups of people are GOOD and certain groups of people are BAD, then it has to be “rather than.” They can’t both be justified.

If you believe that it’s me OR you, us OR them, only one of these two can be justified: either the Pharisee OR the tax collector.

And that is how Luke sees things.

And that is why Luke adds the line about those who exalt themselves being humbled, and those who humble themselves being exalted. That is something Jesus said, although he probably said it in a different context. Luke takes that quote by Jesus and sticks it here, to reinforce his idea that Pharisees are bad, and tax collectors are good.

But as Amy Jill-Levine points out, Judaism is and always has been a communitarian movement. Jesus taught us to pray “Our Father,” not “My Father.” It’s not about me, or my group; it’s about all of us together.

Jesus also taught – and demonstrated – that a clean person could make an unclean person, clean.  They could both be clean together. One person’s faith could save another, like when a group of men lowered their friend down through the roof; Jesus says that their faith healed their friend.

Amy Jill-Levine says it’s like the dreaded group project in middle school. Three of the group members do all the work, but the fourth person does nothing. Yet that fourth person still gets an A on the project because of the work of the other three. It seems unfair to us. That fourth person should be punished. And yet he still gets an A.

That’s how God’s grace is. God’s mercy falls on the just and the unjust. And we should never judge too harshly that fourth person. After all, who knows what personal or family circumstances may have been preventing him or her from doing more?

The only fault, then, that can be found with the Pharisee here is that he passed judgment on the tax collector, labeling him “BAD,” dismissing everything about the tax collector as worthless.

But isn’t that we do with the Pharisee in this story? We pass judgment on the Pharisee because the Pharisee passed judgment on the tax collector. We label everything about tax collectors as bad.

The truth is that there is good and bad in all of us. We are all the Pharisee, AND we are all the tax collector. The next time you find yourself rushing to judge someone as BAD, stop and try to find the good in them. The next time you find yourself rushing to judge yourself as BAD, stop and try to find the good in you.

It’s there. I promise you it’s there.

And the next time you find yourself judging someone as so good that they’re PERFECT, and you place them on a pedestal in your mind – remember that they, too, are subject to the same temptations and weaknesses you.

And above all, remember this: God’s love is unrestricted and unconditional. God’s love is not restricted to a few. It is available to all. Both the Pharisee AND the tax collector are capable of receiving God’s grace.

The Pharisee said “thank God I’m not like that tax collector.” We read the story, and we think to ourselves, “thank God I’m not like that Pharisee.”

But really, we should be saying: “Thank God I AM like that tax collector. Thank God I AM like that Pharisee. Because, like them, I am a precious child of God, honored and loved, forgiven and free.”