If we aren’t all in this together, we aren’t in it at all. Proper 25C

+Joann and I had a seminary professor who,after a particularly challenging piece of scripture was read, often said: “This reading convicts me.” It was a curious turn of phrase and I always wondered what he really meant by it. But this morning? This morning I know exactly what he meant... for this morning the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector  convicts me. It convicts me because  just like the Pharisee, I have prayed the prayer of “Thank God it’s them and not me.” It convicts me because of how many times I’ve  encountered someone and instead of responding in love, I’ve responded in fear.. Someone who’s mentally ill or intoxicated or in some sort of distress.  How many times have I avoided these people and rationalized my actions by thinking, “well I give money to charities that care for people like them, I’m a good person——haven’t  I done enough?” Truth be told, while I feel ashamed about this behavior, I can easily cover it with false righteousness.
It convicts me because I’m reminded that my actions are not that of a humble, God loving, God trusting person, but rather the actions of an uptight, rigid, going to always play by the rules of society—ignoring the cost-- person.
This reading convicts me because it makes me way too much like the Pharisee and not nearly enough like the tax collector.
Did you notice how the Pharisee isn’t so much praying to God as he is lecturing? But in his efforts to point out how different---how much better—he is than the tax collector he forgets (or more likely he never knew) that it isn’t an either or proposition. He forgets that we are indeed our brother’s and sister’s keeper. If one of us has fallen, we’ve all fallen. If one of us is hungry, we’re all hungry, if one of us is abused, we’re all abused. If one of us is lost than none of us is truly found. He forgets that the way of Jesus is not the way of us against them it’s the way of and for us all.
If we aren’t all in this together, we aren’t in it at all.
        At first glance, the Pharisee seems to be the insider in this story, the tax collector the outcast. But alas, in the world of Jesus, it’s the Pharisee who is on the outside, it’s the Pharisee who’s lost, it’s the Pharisee who needs redemption.
Now that’s not to say that the tax collector is Mr. Good Neighbor. Remember, he’s an agent for the occupying force of the day, the Roman Empire. He’s no prize.
Yet he, at the end of parable, goes away justified: forgiven, healed and renewed. The pharisee, on the other hand…well he has some lessons to. learn…
He needs to learn about community.
He needs to learn that the temple he worked so diligently to protect by following every single rule of who was allowed in and who should be kept out amounted to nothing without love of neighbor.
Without its community.
Any community of faith more concerned with who is in and who is out misses the entire point.
All that we are and all that we have is through God’s abundant and indescribable mercy and grace.
The tax collector “got it.” The Pharisee did not.
We’re all in this together. If the tax collector is standing outside the temple gates while we’re safely ensconced inside, then our work isn’t finished.
Until every single person who wants to be in the loving embrace of God is safely in that embrace, than none of us are.
We’re all in this together.
If our sister or brother is ill, outcast, lost or lonely than we are.
We’re all in this together.
And when I say all, I mean all:
Everyone.Those who we like and those who we don’t, Those who worship like us and those who don’t. Those who love like we do, and those who don’t. Those who vote like us and those who don’t. Those with whom we are comfortable and those with whom we are not.
Loving our neighbor as we love ourselves means if our neighbor isn’t ok, then we aren’t ok.
 It’s all about community...and to be a true beloved community of God we must, as we prayed in this morning’s collect, exercise the gifts of faith, hope, and charity.
Faith in a God who loves everyone everywhere, always and forever.
Hope in a world that will look more and more like God’s dream for it rather than the nightmare it so often appears to be.
And charity for those who are not as fortunate as we are.
For when we act for all instead of for only us, we are exalted,  justified, and saved.
 Not for who we are or who we aren’t, but for what we do and for whom we do it.
May we all be convicted enough by this morning’s reading to leave here prepared to share all that we have with all whom we encounter, each and every day.
For if we aren’t all in this together, we aren’t in it at all.
Amen.