30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C, RCL)

I used to picture humility as a door I was afraid to open. I never thought of it as an itinerary to holiness.

It has not happened all that often, but on occasions someone has been upset enough with a sermon I've preached to call me up and complain.

"Mary has chosen the better part," says Jesus, "and it will not be taken away from her." This is not what Jesus is supposed to say.

Words of judgment are difficult to hear. Actually, I have no trouble hearing how they apply to others. And when the preacher gives a logical explanation of how the law applies to me, I understand it and nod my head in agreement. But it often makes little connection with my heart and even less with the way I live.

Jesus uses this parable to lure us into a trap. Hearing it we cannot help but be thankful we are not like that Pharisee. If we are thankful we are not like him, then we are just like him.

The first time I heard the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector was as a small child attending vacation Bible school at Pond Fork Baptist Church. I remember the end of the little curtained balcony where our class was held, sunlight coming into our room rejoicing through a dusty window, the buzzing of insects in the July fields outside, a flannel board with figures stuck on it, and best of all, the anticipation of a story, followed by Kool-Aid and cookies.

It must have been the mother of all squalls. Some of the disciples were seasoned fishermen, skilled in the art of navigating dangerous waters. But this was a red alert. They were going to perish—and the one person who might turn the situation around was sleeping peacefully in the boat’s place of honor, the stern. They woke Jesus up with a strident “Don’t you care, Teacher?” But he did not respond to their lack of faith. Instead he responded to the peace within himself, and produced a calm that impacted nature as well as the frightened disciples.