Gagging on the unfairness of it all

...which was commentary on the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector (Luke 18:9-17). NB- Tax collector = Publican

Now then. The first thing to get off the table is the notion that this parable is simply a lesson in the virtue of humility. It is not. It is an instruction in the futility of religion- in the idleness of the proposition that there is anything at all you can do to put yourself right with God...

It is therefore not a recommendation to adopt a humble religious stance rather than a proud one; rather it is a warning to drop all religious stances- and all moral and ethical ones, too- when you try to grasp your justification before God...

Do you see now what Jesus is saying in this parable? He is saying that as far as the Pharisee's ability to win a game of justification with god is concerned, he is no better off than the publican. As a matter of fact, the Pharisee is worse off; because while they're both losers, the publican at least has the sense to recognize the fact and trust God's offer of a free drink. The point of the parable is that they are both dead, and their only hope is someone who can raise the dead.

"Ah but" you say, "is there no distinction to be made? Isn't the Pharisee somehow less further along in death that the publican? Isn't there some sense in which we can give him credit for the real goodness he has?"

To which I answer, you are making the same miscalculation as the Pharisee. Death is death...

If you now see my point, you no doubt conclude that the Pharisee is a fool. You are right. But at this point you are about to run into another danger. You probably conclude that he is also a rare breed of fool- that the number of people who would so blindly refuse to recognize such a happy issue out of all their afflictions has got to be small. There you are wrong. We all refuse to see it. Or better said, while we sometimes catch a glimpse of it, our love of justification by works is so profound that at the first opportunity we run from the strange light of grace back to the familiar darkness of the law.

You do not believe me? I shall prove it to you: the publican goes down to his house justified rather than the other. Well and good, you say; yes indeed. But let me follow him now in your mind's eye as he goes though the ensuing week and comes once again to the temple to pray. What is it you want to see him doing those seven days? What does your moral sense tell you he ought at least to accomplish? Are you not itching, as his spiritual adviser, to urge him into another line of work- something perhaps a little more upright than putting the arm on his fellow countrymen for fun and profit? In short, do you not feel compelled to insist on at least a little reform?

To help you be as clear as possible about your feelings, let me set you two exercises. For the first, take him back to the temple one week later. And have him go back there with nothing in his life reformed: walk him in this week as he walked in last- after seven full days of skimming, wenching, and high-priced Scotch. Put him through the same routine: eyes down, breast smitten, God be merciful, and all that. Now then. I trust you see that on the basis of the parable as told, God will not mend his divine ways any more than the Publican did his wicked ones. He will do this week exactly what he did last: God, in short, will send him down to his house justified. The question in this first exercise is, do you like that? And the answer, of course, is that you do not. You gag on the unfairness of it. That rat is getting off free.

(Pause: see my previous post about Romans 2 and the contempt for the richness of his kindness)

For the second exercise, therefore, take him back to the temple with at least some reform under his belt: no wenching this week perhaps, or drinking cheaper Scotch and giving the difference to the Heart Fund. What do you think now? What is it that you want God to do with him? Question him about the extent to which he has mended his ways? For what purpose? If God didn't count the Pharisee's impressive list, why should he bother with this two-bit one? Or do you want God to look on his heart, not his list, and commend him for good intentions at least? Why? The point of the parable was that the publican confessed that has was dead, not that his heart was in the right place. Why are you so bent on destroying the story by sending the publican back for his second visit with the Pharisee's speech in his pocket?

The honest answer is, that while you understand the thrust of the parable with your mind, your heart has a desperate need to believe its exact opposite. And so does mine. We all long to establish our identity by seeing ourselves as approved in other people's eyes. We spend our days preening ourselves before the mirror of their opinion so we will not have to think about the nightmare of appearing before them naked and uncombed. And we hate this parable because it says plainly that is is the nightmare that is the truth of our condition. We fear the publican's acceptance because we know precisely what it means. It means that we will never be free until we are dead to the whole business of justifying ourselves. But since that business is our life, that means not until we are dead.