Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

This is a tricky little story, sisters and brothers.
It is full of grace, but it may not be easily found.

The story of the Pharisee and the tax collector carries judgment and we already know now that we are it. We may not be sure yet what the sermon will tell us in the end: whether we are as bad as the Pharisee or as bad as the tax collector, but we know we will not escape without being blamed. We just wish the pastor would be merciful in choosing her words.

There are other things about this tricky little story in which grace seems to hide itself.

In the history of the church the stereotype of the ugly Pharisee and the saved tax collector has lend itself without much ado as a model for the ugly Jew. Yet even without this deplorable part of our history, the seemingly black and white characterization makes us uncomfortable: the good guy, or better the one who is supposed to be good, the Pharisee, turns out to be bad. And the crook turns good, becomes the hero. Don’t we expect the gospel to be a little more finessed than our favorite Western movie or a cheap novel?

Another misconception is activated in our brain as we listen to the story:
A superficial look at the tax collector can make us hopeful that we could after all influence God with our prayers although we know this is when heaven strikes Lutherans dead: if we only work hard enough at being humble, being good, then I will be made righteous and God’s grace will be lavished upon me.

If all of this wouldn’t already be enough trouble caused by such a little story, our hopes were really high that tonight at the stewardship dinner many of you would come forward and pledge in front of the gathered people that they would begin tithing this year: but there comes this ugly Pharisee bragging about his tithing and spoils it all.

Let’s see now where the light shines in this story.
When we live with a book like the Gospel of Luke from Sunday to Sunday over an entire year it is easy to forget things that were said earlier.

I remember in particular two major points that Luke makes in the beginning of his Gospel:
• According to Jesus’ first sermon in Nazareth we are in the year of the Lord’s favor. Jesus has proclaimed it and it is fulfilled in our hearing. It is a time of release; of recovery; and good news to the poor.
• With that Jesus picks up on the song that his mother Mary sang when he was still in her womb. There the release, the recovery is described as a grand reversal of powers: “The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. ... He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and his descendants forever.”

The Lord’s favor, God’s grace reverses the things as we know them, the repressive structures of power. And even if they still seem intact they are crumbling, because God is daily reminded of his promise of mercy when we pray, Our Father who art in heaven, thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.

Jesus in his life indeed reverses the order of things: Especially in Luke we hear all the stories of him seeking the fellowship of sinners. He shares meals with them, goes into their houses, tells stories of lost and found people, and ascribes to God Almighty feelings such as exuberant joy at the reversal taking place: “I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety nine righteous persons who do not repent.” (Luke 15:7)

The tax collector is a perfect model for God’s grace because he is such a perfect sinner. Hated by the Jewish citizens representing the Roman empire, but also disliked by the Roman authorities as greedy and stubborn, the tax collectors were excluded from either community. No one lived more isolated than they because they were indeed crooks.

In his story Jesus now makes this tax collector in the temple a twin brother of the lost and found son over whom the father rejoices. The tax collector’s prayer invokes first of all God’s name. Out of utter isolation, in full awareness of who he is, not even looking up to the heavens to God’s seat but beating his breast, he calls out God’s name. Saying someone’s name claims or constitutes a relationship. One last bit of self esteem he has left and uses it to go back to his creator if nothing else will help. It is risky because, in his life he certainly is not a promoter of God’s love for creation and its creatures. All he gets out is, “Be merciful to me, a sinner!”

The Greek word here suggests more something like “Be reconciled with me again.” Be reconciled again, – that is, there must have been a relationship before. Here in the relationship of creator and creature the tax collector found at last the source of grace that comes before all else, God the creator.

He knows already that God is his judge. That is the story of his life. Nobody needs to tell him that. For reason of survival, however he resorts to him anyway as his last chance. He utters his ear splitting cry: “Be reconciled with me again!” only to find out on his way home that the one whom he called as creator and judge is first and foremost a creator full of grace and mercy who lifts up the lowly.

The utter cry of God’s creatures opens the chambers of mercy, makes the Mighty One, holy is his name, remember his promise of mercy to Israel. Jesus’ cry on the cross “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”, is the same cry of creature to creator, in utter lostness. “My Go, my God” claims the relationship that is there and will never go away. Jesus’ cry opened the chambers of grace and mercy for all of us tax collectors and Pharisees. Through him God has reversed all things and reconciled the world to himself.

They really are the same aren’t they, the pharisee and the tax collector? Not black and white or white and black. They really are black and black. And we are them.

Jesus cried for both the Pharisee and the tax collector to the source of all mercy, “ My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.”
Through Jesus’ cry on the cross we are able to see what crooks we are, whatever our names may be, Pharisee or tax collector. That is our judgment. The seeing is all it needs to judge us. The seeing of who we are forces from the depths of our creaturely being that cry which throws us in the lap of God; God who created us in an act of grace and mercifully will remember that for the sake of his own son. From this place of mercy we then begin to negotiate and change the reality of our sinful life. I wonder what the life of the tax collector and his house looks like now.

I want to make a suggestion, sisters and brothers.
During the next few weeks, we are asked to think about our stewardship for this church and at the horizon there is also Thanksgiving which invites reflection about the year past and the things we are thankful for.
As we enter this time of faithful reflection on our gifts and what has been given to us, I invite you to remember. Remember not only the usual good things, the list of blessings, but the bad things, by name, that have happened to you. The terrible things, the worst things. Also those you have done. Think of the worst moments, your moments of recognition, your sorrows, your losses, your sadness. And then remember that here you are, able to remember them. Able to see, able to recognize. Remember who got you through this year – the Mighty One, holy is his name. The one who even hears the tax collector’s cry: “God, reconcile me again to you!” He is the God who has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and his descendants forever.
Amen.