In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells us that when we fast we’re to wash our face and comb our hair, to not draw any attention to ourselves because we’re fasting. The lesson, I think, is that:
Faith isn’t something to display, it’s something for others to notice about us.
I learned this lesson many years ago, at the end of an Ash Wednesday Liturgy back home in suburban Chicago. I was probably 10 or 11 and our parish priest, Fr Muth, suggested, as we were leaving church, that we wipe our foreheads free of the ashes he had just imposed. His rationale was, that as we returned to the secular world, we weren’t to wear our piety, our faith on our sleeves—or in this case, foreheads. That true piety, true faith is in the action, not the appearances. So, to this day, I wipe the ashes from my forehead as I leave church—not because I don’t want people to see that I am a faithful Christian, but because I want them to know—to experience—that I am a faithful Christian.
I don’t wipe away the knowledge that I am but dust and to dust I shall return—I wipe away any sense of entitlement, honor or praise which may be given to me because I went to church on Ash Wednesday. I don’t wipe away my faith, I wipe away my arrogance.
I ‘m not saying everyone should wipe their foreheads off on Ash Wednesday, it’s just something that works for me---it’s humbling, reminding me that all that I am and all that I have is because of God…that without God I would be but dust.
This knowledge—that all that I am and all that have is because of God, is humbling. And humility…humility is a big part of who Jesus wants us to be.
Humility is a good thing. But it’s often misunderstood. Humility is not humiliation. Humility is not about being a worthless wretch. Humility is realizing that although we can never earn the blessings God bestows upon us, we can never earn the love God has for us we can be grateful for that love and gracious in our accepting of it. We can ask for it, receive it and, out of gratitude, strive to do everything in our lives for the glory of God.
Not us, not me, but God.
That’s humility.
To not notice and remember God in all we do? That’s arrogant.
Humility and arrogance lie at the crux of both last week and this week’s Gospel.
Sometimes we’re arrogant, sometimes we’re humble. Sometimes we’re the Pharisee or the unjust judge, other times we’re the tax collector or the persistent widow.
But all the time—all the time—we’re nothing without God.
The Pharisee wasn’t humble. Neither was the unjust judge. Both of them were full of themselves. So focused on hoarding what they had—money, power, prestige and their own sense of righteousness, that they failed to notice the widow, to notice the tax collector.
To notice God.
In many ways the Pharisee looked like a righteous person---he donates 10 % of his worth to the temple, he worships, he doesn’t lie or cheat or steal. Not a bad guy….but he fails to give credit where credit is due. He forgets that without God he is but dust. He is a self made man who takes all the credit for his success.
He’s not grateful, he’s not humble. He’s not gracious.
As Lutheran Theologian David Lose states, the Pharisee’s prayer of gratitude may be outwardly spoken to God, but inwardly the praise he offers is for himself. He proclaims his own righteousness when he states: “God I thank you that I am not like other people [I am good and righteous].”
It sounds like he’s thanking God for making such a swell guy such as himself. This isn’t humility, it’s arrogance. It’s not prayer, it’s self promotion. What looks like righteousness is actually self-righteousness.
At first glance, the tax collector doesn’t appear righteous at all. He makes his living off the backs of the poor and disenfranchised. He’s done much to offend the law, the Temple and God. But he has enough humility, he has enough self-knowledge, to realize this….he’s not praying to God out of thanksgiving or out of gratitude. He doesn’t pray to God out of self-love, like the Pharisee. He prays out of self-loathing. Out of disgust. He prays to God out of desperate need. Out of longing. Out of hope against hope.
The tax collector prays to God on the off chance—the off chance that this God truly is an all forgiving all loving God who responds to all who call out. He prays to God counting on the sheer unconditional abundant love of a God who promises to grant mercy on all who come to God with hearty repentance and a desire to amend their life. He prayed to the God spoken of by the prophet Joel in today’s first lesson, that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
The tax collector doesn’t approach God out of duty, but out of desire. He doesn’t pray to God out of habit, but out of faith.
The Pharisee approached God out of duty, out of show. He prayed to God because that’s what righteous people do. His faith isn’t bred out of longing and desire, his faith is bred out of duty and expectation.
The tax collector doesn’t want to be noticed by anyone, he just wants to be heard by God.
The Pharisee wants to be noticed by everyone while he fails to hear God.
The Pharisee isn’t a bad guy….but he is arrogant. The tax collector isn’t a saint, but he is humble. The Pharisee appeared to have faith while the tax collector had faith. The Pharisee looked righteous while the tax collector, in his humble and desperate appeal to God, was righteous.
So today I thank Fr Muth for teaching me that faith isn’t something to flaunt like the Pharisee, but it’s something to seek, like the tax collector.
Yes Fr. Muth, I understand it now, faith isn’t what you show, it’s what you live.
Amen.
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