The Means of Grace and the Hope of Glory
Reflections on Luke 18.9-14
RCL Proper 30C
27 October 2019
Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral
New Westminster BC
Luke 18.9-14
18.9 [Jesus] also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ 13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Ask the right question.
In Umberto Eco’s medieval mystery novel, The Name of the Rose, an experienced and somewhat world-wise monk and his novice assistant are sent to investigate a series of mysterious deaths in a forbidding monastery. The monastery has been chosen as the site for a debate between two warring factions of Franciscan monks. One faction, known as the ‘Spirituals’, opposed any ownership of land, buildings or possession by the Order, whether individually or corporately. The other faction, known as the ‘Coventuals’, support the ownership of land and buildings by the Order as a community. In their view this does not violate the Franciscan commitment to poverty.
So the delegations arrive in the midst of murder investigation and turmoil in the neighbouring village to debate this question: ‘Did Jesus own the tunic he wore to his trial?’ To our contemporary eyes the topic may seem unknowable and perhaps even a bit trivial. Unfortunately it’s also the wrong question. The right question would be ‘What was Christ’s attitude towards personal possessions?’
Outward and visible expressions of inward and spiritual grace
It is a common failing of religious people to ask the wrong questions about the relationship between the external details of religious practice and the internal attitudes we bring to these practices. It is the failing that we see in today’s reading from the Gospel according to Luke.
Let me be clear. The religious practices the Pharisee speaks of are not the problem. All of us can benefit from the fasting as a spiritual discipline. It is a discipline shared among Jews, Christians and Muslims. All of us may strive towards tithing. It is also a discipline our three traditions share. The problem here is that what the Pharisee is doing outwardly and visibly has not resulted in an inward and spiritual metanoia, an inner conversion that leads a believer to see the world as God sees it. This is the goal of external religious practices. Unlike the Pharisee, the tax collector, one of the more despised people in Jesus’ time, does understand what religious practice is about, even if he may not be the perfect model in everyday life.
The outward and visible signs of our religious faith are meant to lead us into an inward and spiritual experience of God’s grace. This grace is freely given to us in creation, in renewal and in our growth into the fullness of our dignity as human beings. Such an experience confronts us with a choice. We can live into the vision of life we have seen or we can turn away from this vision and minimize its importance by talking about how hard it is, how unrealistic it is, how counter-intuitive it is.
Practice makes perfect.
Sometimes our religious practices seem unfulfilling. One of my teachers, Bishop Michael Ramsey of blessed memory, once told my seminary classmates that there were days when during the prayers all he could say was ‘I want to pray.’ Some days were so difficult that all he could say was ‘I want to want to pray.’ And then there were those truly dreadful days when all he could say was ‘I want to want to want to pray.’ But he always prayed, whether in the common prayers or in his own personal prayers.
It was this commitment to the practice of prayer that made him a man of prayerful integrity whose presence alone was a source of peace and joy. He sometimes struggled to pray; he always struggled to be faithful in his daily life, but he never gave up the struggle. Just like Jacob in last week’s reading from Genesis, Michael wrestled with God, was wounded but was also blessed.
When we worship, we commit our whole selves, our minds, our souls, our bodies and our strength. We join with God, sometimes we wrestle with God, in the work of making God’s promises visible and active right now, right here, in all the places and relationships entrusted to our stewardship.
So, let’s be careful what we pray for and how we pray for it. You and I may catch a glimpse of what God is up to in the world and in us. And then we’ll find ourselves caught up in the grace of God and nothing will ever be the same again.
No comments:
Post a Comment