Two Lessons from My Mentor

A Sermon preached by The Rector on October 28, 2007
The Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost



“God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.” St. Luke 18:9-14

In the Name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Many years ago when I was a young curate in a parish in a city far, far away, the Rector of that parish was on a wonderful roll of powerful Gospel preaching, preaching salvation through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. He himself had been through a strong personal revival, and his biblical preaching was given wings by genuine experience. The effect, as it often is, was to stir up and grow the congregation. A good number of our old timers rediscovered their own faith, which helped to attract new members. But a few were stirred up in other ways; these were disturbed by this new lease on life they were being offered.

One Sunday at the church door, a long-time reputed pillar of the church who had been noticed to be bristling at the Rector’s messages, could contain himself no longer. “Why do you guys [he brought me into it, and I suppose I was guilty as charged] keep talking about salvation? I don’t need to be saved. I’ve lived a pretty good life. I’ve worked hard and raised a family. I’ve worked hard for this church, too. Go save somebody else.”

Well. My heart sank as I heard him declaim. I can’t even remember the Rector’s reply, and he was usually very good at such things. But it was the sentence, “I don’t need to be saved,” that got the bells of hell ringing so loudly I could hear nothing else. As you can see, it has stayed with me.

The Pharisee, said Jesus, went up to the temple to pray. But it is clear from Jesus’ description that he hardly prayed at all. He took a glance at God, yes. But then he praised himself, first and foremost, by contrasting himself with “others,” the unjust, the extortioners, the adulterers, and then by taking a look behind him and down the steps at a tax collector, whose faults he was glad to point out. The Pharisee recited his virtues (fasting and tithing, indeed) the value of which he then cancelled by his whole prideful performance.

The tax collector, on the other hand, stood a distance off, would not even raise his face and eyes to heaven but rather looked down and beat his breast. But he really did pray: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Jesus said that the tax collector went home justified rather than the Pharisee. The tax collector truly had prayed, had asked for mercy, describing himself simply as a sinner. The Pharisee had not prayed at all, except to engage in a moment of self-congratulation. He left the temple as he entered it, unchanged, carrying a great load of pride. The Pharisee’s attitude not only nullified his prayer. What he did at the temple actually extended and increased his unacknowledged sin. The Pharisee’s prayer was an exercise in arrogance and scorn.

Jesus’ parable is not only about prayer, it is about membership in the people of God, fellowship in the Body of Christ. We are called into the Body of Christ to give thanks as fellow sinners who have been redeemed, who know the peace and joy of forgiveness, and who therefore are recipients of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and heirs of eternal life through him. We are to bear one another’s burdens, to rejoice with those who rejoice and to comfort those who are in sorrow. We are the Body of Christ. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you.” The ear cannot say to the foot, “I have no need of you.”

Jesus concludes his parable today with the words, “Every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.” The fact is, God himself is love, self-giving, self sacrificing love. He is a Trinity of love. The Father gives everything he is to the Son. The Son returns in love everything he receives to the Father. The bond between them is infinite and personal, namely, God the Holy Spirit. We have seen this love in creation and, most definitely, in the life of God the Son on earth, who emptied himself even to the death of the cross for us. The Holy Spirit has touched our minds and hearts to accept this good news about God, drawing us into the social life of the Holy and Undivided Trinity.

So you see it is impossible to approach God proudly as the Pharisee did. God resists the proud and gives grace to the humble. God himself is humble in that he is utterly self-giving. The cross of Christ reveals the heart of God. The tax collector was in tune with God. His spirit was moved by God’s Spirit. The Pharisee, though he named God, was moved by a different spirit. One can envision the tax collector receiving Holy Communion; I find it hard to imagine the Pharisee receiving the Sacrament, except in judgment and alienation.

We in the church need to beware that, hearing today’s Gospel, we do not ironically say in our own hearts, “Thank God, I am not like that Pharisee.” Again, many years ago, in that same parish where I was a young curate, the Rector, who was still new to his job, was making the rounds of parishioners, one of whom had not been seen in church for some time. “I don’t go there anymore,” he told the Rector, “there are just too many hypocrites.” The Rector replied, “Oh don’t worry about that. There are still plenty of seats for many more. Come on and join the rest of us.” 1

Isn’t it true of most of us – at least it is of yours truly – that we often suffer a certain distraction in our prayers which, let us be honest, is caused by self-absorption? The truth is, when we finally really get down to praying, we forget ourselves; or, as the saying truly goes, we lose ourselves. We leave ourselves behind. We lose track of the time, we can even almost forget where are, except that we are enjoying the blessing of God’s presence and holiness, praying for various things and for people, confessing, praising and thanking the Lord. It is like love and friendship. Real love causes self-forgetfulness in the grace of the beloved, the friend. And so it is with prayer.

May this great house of prayer be just that for every one of us! May we all be much more like the tax collector than the Pharisee in our prayers. But let us be on the lookout for the old hypocrite, for his spirit is always on the prowl in us and among us. As long as we are honest about it, and maintain a humble sense of humor, all will be well. The divine sense of humor contains a healthy lampoon, and the joke is on our pride: Whoever exalts himself will be humbled [depend upon it!], and he who humbles himself will be exalted.


In the Name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Amen.

A Sermon preached by
The Reverend Andrew C. Mead
Rector of Saint Thomas Church Fifth Avenue
in the City of New York
on The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost at 11:00 o’clock
October 28, 2007


1. The Rector in both stories in this sermon is my beloved mentor, the Rev’d John R. Purnell, rector of the Parish of All Saints, Ashmont, Boston, 1975-1981, when he died at age 48. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.