Father Gary’s Sermon

Inspired from Luke 18:9-14

Proclaimed on October 24, 2004

In the church that I attended in my youth there was a particular woman whom I will never forget. Her name was Fairy Casey. She owned a local hardware store in downtown Galion. She seemed to be someone who had everything. Her features were stunning. She dressed in the finest of clothes. And being a good old-fashioned Nazarene it was said that her hair was never cut, but it was always meticulously groomed and combed into a beautiful beehive style on top of her head. She was also a pillar in our little church. She was our very enthusiastic Sunday School Superintendent. She said the most beautiful extemporaneous prayers and had the most gracious of personalities. During one memorable Sunday service, it was a gorgeous, warm sunny day in which the windows in the sanctuary were wide open. Into one of these windows flew a large bumblebee. It circled around the nave until it came upon that beehive hairdo of Fairy Casey. I saw it all from my seat in the choir. There sat Mrs. Casey, so dignified, attentive, and proper, never suspecting that a bee had just landed on her head. However, the burly male parishioner behind her did notice. In the blink of an eye he had rolled up several church bulletins and then -- wham! Fairy let out a yell, the preacher stopped preaching, and all eyes were upon her. People were wondering if she had received a Divine blessing or if something less spiritual had happened, but we in the choir knew exactly what had occurred. Suddenly the tension gave way to laughter when we realized what had happened, especially because of whom it had happened to. Fortunately, even Fairy smiled at the humor of it all.

In some ways it is this type of humor that is noticeable in this story told by Jesus in our Gospel reading this morning. It is one of those stories about how one who had great standing in the community had been publicly embarrassed, as well as how one that had been a scoundrel and had reached the depths of despair found grace. The story was about two men who had gone into the Temple to pray. One of them was a Pharisee. He was part of a very devout group of people that rose to the occasion when the faith of Israel had sunk to a new low. When the Greeks or Hellenists had conquered their nation, they maintained the traditions of their faith even while the Hellenists were trying to wipe out Judaism. They would rather die than switch. Many of them did indeed become martyrs. But eventually the Pharisees conquered the Hellenists, set up an independent Jewish nation, reinstated the ancient Jewish Laws of the land, as well as cleansed the worship in the Temple that had been profaned. The Pharisees were an admired group of people, who through their courageous good works had gained control of the synagogues throughout the land and became the pillars of their communities.

The other man who came to the Temple to pray was a Publican, one of the dregs of society. Though a Hebrew by birth, he had become a traitor of his people in order to collect taxes for the new Roman overlords. In undertaking his duties, however, he often overcharged, which eventually made him a very wealthy man. So despised was his kind that they were often treated as robbers, looked upon as traitors, and banned from the synagogues. They were not permitted to testify in court and according to rabbinical law, it was legal to lie to them. So here standing side by side in the Temple was this Pharisee and Publican praying to God. But in telling this story Jesus seemed to make light of this pillar of the community, while commending the gangster. Why? While the Publican prayed for mercy, the Pharisee thanked God that he was not like the Publican. Like Fairy Casey--after getting walloped from behind--the Pharisees in Jesus’ audience were stunned by his words, but unlike Mrs. Casey, they never came to see the humor of the situation. On the other hand, there were probably many in Jesus’ audience who reveled in the joy and humor of seeing the mighty fall.

Paul Duke in an article in The Christian Century, however, makes an interesting point of his own when he recently wrote: “To see the Publican as honorable and the Pharisee as a creep makes the story false, curdles it to a dishonest morality tale and sends us straight into the trap of saying, ‘God, we thank you that we are not like this Pharisee!’ Better to see him as he is--a thoroughly decent, generous, committed man--and to see the Publican as a compromised, certified stinker.” Duke continues, “I know which character my church depends upon. I know which one pays the bills, teaches the lessons, visits the sick, and feeds the hungry. I’d love a church full of people with his commitments--people who care enough to fast, people who tithe and thank God that they can. It’s people like the Pharisee who hold the community together and keep the faith with diligence and passion. We can’t color him sinister. He’s not J. R. Ewing in a choir robe. He’s a better man than I am, and probably better than you.”

Mr. Duke makes a good point, for in truth this story of Jesus could be easily told from a different perspective. For instance, how about the story of the old, washed up drunk who stood up in a revival tent meeting one night and slurred, “Brothers and sisters, you know I haven’t been what I ought to have been. I drunk way too much. I stole hogs and told lies. I’ve been playin’ poker, gamblin’, cussin’, and sleepin’ where I shouldn’t. But through all this, through all these things I’ve done, I want you to know one thing I haven’t done. I ain’t never lost my religion.”

As one can easily see from these accounts, the tale told by Jesus was really not about a pillar of the community versus a gangster. Rather this story was about the proud and arrogant as compared to the humble. In his arrogance the Pharisee failed to see his true status as a person utterly dependent upon God. Instead of thanking God, as well as giving God praise for the blessings he received, he was only able to compare his works with the works of the Publican in a very prideful manner. Whereas the Publican, though wealthy and powerful in his own right, could only beg for mercy, for he compared himself with God and in so doing could only be humbled. God could never answer the prayer of the Pharisee for he had no needs. He was a self-made righteous man, whereas the Publican saw himself as truly the sinner he was and as a man having needs that only God could meet. This was their true difference. It wasn’t their standing in the community or even their accomplishments. It was their humility and neediness in the presence of God.

What does this have to do with us today? This past week the Windsor Report was released by the Anglican Communion in reaction to the decisions of the Episcopal Church in its last General Convention. The reaction to this report has been negative by people and parties on both sides of the issue. The reason why is that the writers of this report did not take sides. Rather they were trying to answer the question as to how we can remain in communion with our differences. As such, it did not condemn nor attempt to excommunicate anyone. What it did do was to appeal to our highest angels regardless where we stand on the issues. Does this mean that there is no right or wrong on the issues facing the Church? No. It is simply calling us to drop our arrogance. By taking on humility God will be able to mold us into the Communion we are called to be despite our differences.

When it comes right down to it the story that Jesus told about the two men praying in the Temple is more like a recent Dennis the Menace cartoon. In this strip Dennis and his buddy Joey are coming from the Wilson’s house. Each of them has in their hand a large cookie, while Dennis is saying, “Joey, Mrs. Wilson gives you a cookie because she’s nice, not because you’re nice!”

I guess that is why I remember Mrs. Fairy Casey so fondly. She represented both the best of the Pharisee, as well as the best of Publican. Not only was she nice, but also she was nice because she knew that God was nice to her. In her was such dignity and grace, a true pillar of the community, which even an unexpected smack on the back of the head could never shake. Without any guile or anger she could see her true place in the scheme of things and even laugh at herself with the rest of us. In her there was neither arrogance nor any false pride. She was an example of the beauty of a humble spirit before God, which gave her such dignity of place. When I think of Fairy Casey I want to pray, “God have mercy upon me a sinner that I may one day have the grace, dignity, and humility of Fairy Casey.”