Pentecost 20C
October 23, 2022
Luke 18:9-14
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Me with Rozella at ministerium |
One thing we talked about was how many of us – clergy and laity alike – are very good at the commandment to “love your neighbor,” but maybe not so good at the part that says, “as yourself.” As Rozella said, we like to say, “Love your neighbor! (as yourself).” And so we do and do and do for everyone else – some of us in our paid work, some in our volunteer work, some in the work of raising kids or caring for ailing spouses or parents, and keeping a home – but we neglect treating ourselves with the same love we afford to other people. And this ethic aligns perfectly with how our society understands worth: the message we receive is that our worth is dependent upon our productivity. How many benchmarks did you meet? How many times and ways do you volunteer? What title have you achieved? Even, how successful are your children? There is less value attached to, for example, how centered are you? How diligent are you at keeping healthy boundaries? How deep and meaningful are your relationships? In fact, these latter skills are sometimes seen as barriers to the real goal of productivity!
I’ll tell ya, the conversation about this with a bunch of pastors and this presenter was so rich, and I’m still thinking about it. No surprise, then, that it was spinning in my head as I came to this week’s Gospel reading. I love this parable. I think it is so relatable, in so many ways. This time when I read it, I looked with special interest at the pharisee. I began to wonder, what is behind his bluster? Why does he insist, even in prayer, on being so self-congratulatory? One might think he is full of himself, that indeed he loves himself too much, but I don’t think so. Because in my experience with people, I often find it the case that when people act this way, it is because they are compensating for some insecurity they harbor. Maybe on the inside they feel much more like the tax collector, as a sinner in need of mercy – but they are perhaps unwilling or even unable to identify or admit it to anyone else or even to themselves. And so they – or should I say, we – put forth to the world a persona that is confident and self-assured, because if we can convince others that we are good and productive and worthy, then maybe, just maybe, we will believe it about ourselves. Believe that we are good, that we are loveable.
Now, this isn’t true for everyone. Many people struggle with self-esteem, to be sure, but not everyone. And those who do struggle with self-image may deal with it differently than this. But whether or not you can relate personally, we all know people like this, right, and the question is still worth exploring: what if the real issue with the pharisee is not that he loves himself too much and needs a dose of humility, but rather, that he has tied up his worthiness and goodness and belovedness in what he does, in what he can produce…. And that deep down, he does not believe himself to be worthy or good or loveable?
Seeing him this way allows me to see him not with disdain and annoyance, but with compassion. Rather than roll my eyes at his arrogance, I find myself wanting to give him a hug and say, “Oh my friend. Please know that you are worth more than what you produce. Your identity and worth are not your mistakes, nor your successes.” I want to say this to him because I, too, have that inner critic, that voice in my head that is always telling me, “Johanna, that could have been better,” or, “Johanna, you aren’t doing enough – you should be doing more.” I, too, am tempted to judge my own worth on what I’m doing and how successfully I’m doing it. It can be tempting to get swallowed up in that belief! And so, I see this pharisee, so eager to bolster his own self-image, to make himself look good so that he’ll feel better about himself, and I want to assure him, “God loves you, my friend, just as you are! While you are a sinner, just like all of us, that’s okay – God’s grace is bigger than your sins.”
The other guy, of course, the tax collector, doesn’t hide his wrongdoing. He comes to God with an open heart, exactly as he is, and is honest. He does not try to be someone he is not, nor hide his wrongdoing from God. And, Jesus tells us that this man went home justified. He was able to rest in God’s grace for him. That level of honesty, both with self and with God, is dreadfully painful at times. But the result is to walk away justified and at peace. It is, in the end, worth it.
So what about us? I feel inclined to tell this fictional pharisee that his worth is not tied to his mistakes, but do I allow myself that same grace? We can love our neighbor in this way, but can we love ourselves?
In the end, these two are not so different – and we can relate to both of them at different moments. It is true for both of these sinners, and it is true for us, that our goodness and belovedness does not depend on those “things done and things left undone” that we began our service with confessing, nor is it based on our own merit and accomplishment. We are sinners, to be sure – I’ve yet to meet a single human being who isn’t – but we were also created good, and in the image of a good God. Our worth and self-image are not dependent on us, on what we accomplish, but rather on God, and what God has accomplished. We are good, because God made us good. And, the other guy, whoever it is we may feel tempted to judge, is also good, because God made them good. That is a centering truth to which we must return.
Centering – that is another thing I have been thinking about since the clergy retreat I attended this week. After we talked about healing, and the need for rest, Rozella told us she doesn’t like seeking “balance” as a goal for our lives. Sometimes, she said, balance is impossible – like if you live with very needy dependents, whether young or old. Instead, she prefers to seek being centered. When we have a strong sense of our center, we may lean one way or another, but we will find our way home, back to center. Like those Weeble toys from the 70s – remember? “Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down.” They return to center.
If we can rest solidly in that truth, that our goodness is wholly dependent on God’s goodness – then we will have no need to judge or compare ourselves to others, like the pharisee. We can shut down that inner critic who tells us we are not doing enough, that we are not enough, that we are not loveable. We will be confident in who and how God made us to be: beloved children of God, made in God’s good image.
At several points during the retreat, Rozella led us through this grounding exercise, as a way of helping us find our center, and to see ourselves as God’s beloved child who is worthy of love and compassion, not just from others, but from ourselves. The exercise took us through repentance, forgiveness, thanksgiving, and finally, love. I’d like to do it with you now, and then I will close us with prayer. Center yourself in your seat (no slouching!). Place one hand on your heart, and the other on your gut. Take some deep breaths, and close your eyes if you’ve comfortable. I’m going to say some phrases that I ask you to repeat back to me, aloud. This is an exercise of loving our neighbor as ourselves: so you are not speaking to me, you are speaking these phrases to yourself. Okay? Start breathing…
I’m sorry…
Please forgive me…
Thank you…
I love you…
Gracious and loving God, you have made us good, but sometimes we find that hard to believe. You love us freely, but we work too hard, thinking your love must be earned. Call us back to center, back to the unshakable knowledge that you are good and gracious beyond measure, and you love us dearly. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Full service can be viewed HERE.
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