Homily

The parable of the Publican and Pharisee is a study of contrasts, or you might even say it is a story of opposites. But please notice the way in which they are described. The Pharisee says he is not greedy, dishonest or an adulterer. No, he fasts on the fasting days and he even tithes more of his income than the law requires. Now please notice, wouldn't it seem more natural, more opposite, for the Publican, the tax-collector, to say, "I have stolen money. Lord, forgive me!" Or to say, "I am greedy AND dishonest, AND an adulterer. Lord, forgive me!" Or even to say, "Lord I am greedy and dishonest and an adulterer AND I never fast and I rarely give anything to the Temple. Lord, forgive me my sins!" That would perfectly balance out the virtue of the Pharisee, but that's not what the Publican prays.

I remember a TV commercial from some years ago where one fast food chain was mocking the chicken nuggets of the competition. "Their nuggets are made from 'chicken parts.'" And the horrified man says, "Parts? What parts? What parts?" I think that notion applies to the Pharisee in today's Gospel. He gives the Lord a list of the bad parts he does not share in, and the good parts he does share in. Unfortunately for him these parts do not make up the whole. They are just parts. Good parts, yes, but not the whole. He stands before the Lord as a self-made "holy man" who does not need the mercy of the Lord, nor the pardon of his God. He says that he thanks God that he is not like the rest of men, but of course it seems clear from his general attitude he doesn't really think God had anything to do with it. He has pulled himself up by his own spiritual bootstraps and achieved what he believes to be a superior level of holiness. He has a lot of good parts but those parts do not add up to make the superior man he believes himself to be, as we see in his attitude—he needs no pardon from God even as he looks down with distain on the Publican who has fallen to his knees in prayer. If nothing else this pride before God and this distain for his fellow praying Jew shows that he is far, far away from this whole and holy man he imagines himself to be. He is like a car with a shiny, waxed exterior, four new tires and a Bose surround sound audio system—but the engine doesn't run.

The Publican definitely has parts too; we just don't know what they are because he doesn't say. He probably has some good parts, don't you think? He obviously knows and confesses he has bad parts, but in this parable what those bad parts are, or even what his good parts may be, is not as important as the way in which he sees himself as a whole when he comes to pray. As a whole man he confesses himself to be a sinner, a man in need of God's mercy and love, a Jew who will not try to make himself just by pointing out his good points and ignoring his bad actions. No, he seeks forgiveness as a man, as a person, as an Israelite, as one who not only comes with great humility before the Lord, not even daring to lift up his head, he also comes with the belief that God does love him, God will pardon him, God will save him.

I know that we don't probably see ourselves as completely like either one of these two men—at least not all the time. But I ask you to consider whether or not we may be more like the Pharisee than we would like to admit. Are we people who judge ourselves as pretty good because we have a bunch of good parts, like the Pharisee? We are not the people who do "this, and that, and that, and that and that and that." Yes, it is true that maybe sometimes we do a little bit of this and that, but we're not like "those" kind of people who do "that and that and that and that"—therefore we are basically good people with a lot of good parts.

It's great we have good parts. It's not so wise perhaps to think we are good because we do not act as badly as "those people" do, because what if our goodness has to be compared with the goodness of Mother Teresa, or St. Francis or St. Paul? How good would our good parts look then, compared to their good parts?

Christ doesn't want our parts, He wants us. In the first place He doesn't want our morally good actions, He wants us in the first place. And that is one of the main contrasts between the Publican and Pharisee. From one man the Lord received a list of good parts done and bad parts avoided. But from the other, the Lord got the whole man, the man who came with humility because he was only a man, the man who came with repentance because he had been and was a sinner, and the man who knew that the love His Lord held for him would wipe away his sins and lead him into a better life. He brought his whole self before the Lord in honesty, asking for mercy. He left the temple that day so much, much more than just the sum of his parts.

The holy season of Lent is coming up pretty quickly next month, while the bloom is still on the poinsettias. So even now I'd like you to think about how you would like to spend your time this Lent. So very often I think people see it as a time for fixing their parts—nothing wrong with that in itself. But I hope this year we will dedicate our Lenten efforts to putting ourselves in front of the Lord, first, before all other things, in humility, with a genuine sense of our sinful selves and with a genuine sense of Christ our Lord Who wants to lift us up in love and grace so that we can clearly see His face—so that we can be found justified not on our own merits, but by the saving power of He Who made us for Himself.