Who Is Really Righteous? -- Reformation Sunday

Luke 18:9-14

October 26, 2025

 

            The story goes that as a young man Martin Luther was traveling, and while he was on the road, he was caught in a terrible storm. It was a storm so terrifying and potentially deadly that he could do little more than wait and pray and hope that he survived it. But what he prayed, as best we can know over 500 years later, is that if God would get him through this storm, if God would preserve his life and let him come out on the other side of this maelstrom alive, he would dedicate the rest of his life to serving God.

God kept his end of the bargain. Luther lived, and Luther then kept his end of the bargain as well. Luther became a monk, and he was called upon to teach and preach and preside over the Lord’s Table. Yet Luther felt completely unworthy of this call, especially when it came to serving the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper. He was no longer caught in a physical storm of wind and rain, yet he faced an inner storm that raged just as wildly as the outer one. He tormented himself over his unworthiness. He tormented himself over his salvation, trying to do all that he could to earn it, but realizing that what he could do would never be enough. He knew he could never be good enough to merit salvation or justification by God. He was conflicted, to say the least, and he began to see the Church with new eyes.

Luther traveled to Rome, the great holy city, and saw firsthand how the indulgences that the church sold exploited the poor and the powerless. Indulgences were a promise, for lack of a better word, that a loved one would eventually be able to eventually leave purgatory and enter into heaven. It was believed that time in purgatory could be calculated, and that an indulgence reduced someone’s time in that strange limbo state. The sale of indulgences was a prolific fundraiser for the church. The common belief was that if someone was not worthy of heaven while alive, they went to purgatory after death. And in purgatory they waited. Buying an indulgence meant that you brought a loved one a little closer to leaving purgatory and entering God's heaven; the more indulgences you bought, the shorter the time in purgatory.

Luther was scandalized by this, horrified. And that, along with his own inner torment, sparked in him the desire to learn more. He began to study the book of Romans in great depth, and the more he studied, the more he read, he began to see that salvation was not something that could be earned. Salvation was not based in what we humans can or cannot do. It was based, is based, in what God does. Luther is credited with sparking the Protestant Reformation, although there were many reformers throughout Europe who were reaching the same conclusions as him. Luther never wanted to start a new church or a new expression of Christianity. He just wanted to reform the Church. But reform is all about change, and once change was started there was no holding it back. So the western church became what we understand as the Roman Catholic Church, and then there were a whole lot of Protestant denominations that formed and reformed and reformed some more. While every protestant today is a descendent of those protestants, those protesters, as Presbyterians we are of the Reformed tradition, meaning that we still hold to many of the original reformers’ understandings and influence in how we govern ourselves, order our worship, and order our life together.

Why am I giving you a history lesson instead of just talking about the parable from Luke’s gospel already? One, because this is Reformation Sunday – the Sunday in the church year when we remember our heritage specifically. Two, because I think that Jesus, in this parable, might have been trying to get his listeners to understand something that the reformers also tried to understand. It’s not about us. It’s about God.

The challenge of this parable is that it’s a trap. It is a trap. To our ears it seems crystal clear and straightforward. The Pharisee goes to pray and it’s all about him, and all about the good things he does, the moral way he lives his life. But he looks down his nose at the tax collector. The Pharisee thanks God that he is not like other people, especially the tax collector. But the tax collector goes to pray and cannot even lift his eyes toward heaven. He can only beat his breast and say, “God be merciful to me, a sinner!”

It's clear who the bad guy is, right? It’s the Pharisee. Didn’t I grow up hearing that the Pharisees were the bad guys? And the tax collector must be the good guy because he is humble before God. He doesn’t try to make himself look good in front of God. He just prays that God will be merciful to him, sinner that he is. So, thank goodness that we are not like that Pharisee. Thank goodness that we are like the tax collector. We are humble. We know how sinful we are. We are the good guys, unlike that Pharisee.

And there it is – the trap. The minute we try to take sides; the minute we give thanks that we are not like the Pharisee then we become the Pharisee. The Pharisee is the bad guy and we are not like him. Wait! Argh! There it is. The trap!

To those listening to Jesus, this would not have been as crystal clear as we think it is. I may have been taught that Pharisees were the bad guys because they so often opposed Jesus, but to those gathered around Jesus they would have been considered respected, valuable members of the community. They were leaders. They knew the Law and helped the people to live it out. Think about it, the virtues that the Pharisee lists in his prayer are virtues. He fasts twice a week, he tithes. He doesn’t steal from people or cheat people. He is an upstanding, upright citizen.

The tax collector on the other hand would not have been seen as an upright citizen. The tax collector would have been viewed as a traitor to his people. Tax collectors colluded with the Roman government. Tax collectors notoriously cheated and exploited their own people. Tax collectors not only worked within an oppressive, unjust system, they used that system to oppress their own. Tax collectors are not lumped into the general term of “sinners” are they? No, they have their own category. Jesus does not just share meals and keep company with sinners. Jesus eats meals and keeps company with sinners and tax collectors. Jesus’ original audience would not have seen the tax collector as the good guy. And what I infer from the tax collector’s prayer is that he doesn’t see himself as the good guy.

But Jesus turns the tables on their expectations once again by saying that it was the tax collector who went home justified rather than the Pharisee because all who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted. This is another example of the reversal that Jesus preaches time and time again.

Yet, Dr. Amy-Jill Levine, a renowned professor at Vanderbilt Divinity School, and both a Jewish and New Testament studies scholar, writes that the word that we translate as rather can also be translated as along with. It seems a small thing, but it changes the implication of Jesus’ words. If the tax collector is justified along with the Pharisee then they both receive God’s mercy and grace. It’s not one over the other, but both. But that might be even more infuriating, because that means that even people that we believe should not receive mercy, should not receive grace, get grace! So, who is really righteous?!

Maybe the point that Jesus is making is that the one who is really righteous is God. If the Pharisee makes a mistake in this parable, it’s that he takes credit for his righteousness. He is not like those others. He does this and he does that. He gets it right while others do not. His righteousness becomes self-righteousness because he thinks it is about him and because of him. But it seems to me that the point Jesus makes is that it is about God. It is God who shows mercy. God who offers grace.

It also seems to me that what the tax collector does right in this parable is that he admits how broken he truly is. Just by saying seven simple words, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner,” the tax collector acknowledges his sinfulness and his brokenness. He beats his breast. He can’t look toward heaven. He can’t even come close to the place where the Pharisee stands.

But shouldn’t receiving mercy effect change? Does the tax collector change? Does the Pharisee? Do either of them leave the temple and rethink how they approach God, how they treat others? We don’t know. What we do know is that regardless of their response, God is the one who shows mercy. God is the one who offers grace.

So, maybe it’s not about us trying to identify with one over the other, but recognizing that we are both/and. I am like that tax collector. I am sinful. I am broken, deeply broken, deeply flawed. I am a sinner. But I am also like that Pharisee. On this day especially, I must admit how many times I have prayed, “Thank you, God, that I am Presbyterian. Thank you, God, that I am not part of other denominations, denominations that tell me what to think and what not think, denominations that preach hellfire and brimstone. Thank you, God, that I am not like them. I am a Presbyterian.” Maybe I have not prayed that prayer so overtly, but I can’t deny thinking that way. I can’t deny my own self-righteousness. I am self-righteous. I am a sinner. I am a hot mess. Maybe you are too.

But through this parable, I think Jesus is making the point that it isn’t about us or what we do or don’t do to be righteous, or what we do and don’t do that makes us a sinner. Jesus is reminding all who will listen that it’s about God. It’s not about us or our merit. It’s about God. That’s what the reformers began to understand. And in some ways they got it right and in other ways they got it wrong. So, the motto, “Reformed and always reforming,” takes on deeper meaning. Because reform, change, is an ongoing process. We are reformed always reforming because we’re all hot messes, but God is not. It’s not about us. It’s about God. It’s about God’s mercy, God’s grace, God’s love. It’s not about us, it’s about God. God is the one who is really righteous, and that is good news indeed. Thanks be to God.

So let all of God’s children, even those of us who are hot messes, say “Alleluia.”

Amen.