Day of the Church Year: 20th Sunday after Pentecost
Scripture Passage: Luke 18:9-14
Our Jesus story today involves two Jewish men at prayer, two men of distinctly different social statuses, two men who have very different opinions of themselves. One of them believes himself to be unfettered by sin, the other languishing in it. One of them praises God that he is not a sinner like his neighbor while the other simply hopes that God is merciful. At the story’s conclusion, Jesus commends the humble man and declares him justified. For, Jesus says, all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.
Most of the time, I’m doing something to follow Jesus. I’m serving or praying or studying. But exercising humility? I’m not sure what to do because practicing humility for the sake of practicing humility is a spiritual trap.
Perhaps snippets from my own inner monologue will sound familiar to you.
“Ooh, I am so annoyed by that person’s arrogance. Thank goodness I’m humble.” OR
“That person has so much to learn. I can’t believe they are saying x about x topic which I know so much more about.”
Assuming my inner monologue is not unique to me, how do we exercise humility? Exercising humility can trap us because--
The way of humility is not devolving into low self-esteem or putting ourselves down.
The way of humility is not celebrating the tax collector and thereby also looking down at the Pharisee which would, ironically, be the very thing for which Jesus criticizes the Pharisee.
The way of humility is not strategically being humble in order to be exalted.
In my numerous readings of this Jesus story, however, I noticed for the first time the word “justified.” At the story’s conclusion, Jesus declares: the tax collector went down to his home justified rather than the Pharisee. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted. And then, the story started to open up. Because haven’t we all sought self-justification at some time?
This past week while participating in a large group conversation about ministry, a pastor raised a question about how to work with someone who accused them of doing something the pastor did not do. The accusing person was apparently grieving, in the midst of a difficult time in their life, and was not in the healthiest mindset, thus the random accusation. Two people responded to the question, and I was struck by their differing responses, both from professionals in their fields. One of the respondents advised my colleague to reason with the person, to offer a new perspective on the situation, to share reasons why the accusation was false. The other respondent, someone skilled in communication, said: I would just apologize.
We probably all know the pull of self-justification like the first respondent. That moment when someone accuses us of something we did not actually do. That moment when we feel overcome by guilt. That moment when someone tells us they feel sad or hurt or angry about something we actually did. That moment we discover we did not fulfill others’ unspoken expectations. We rush to defend ourselves. Right? “I didn’t do it.” OR “Here’s why I did it.” OR “You’re so sensitive.” OR “You didn’t tell me what you wanted. What do you expect?” We seek to justify ourselves, to justify our actions. And not just to other people but to God and to ourselves. To not defend ourselves in situations like these feels like people getting away with murder, right? There’s no justice in that. We feel this strong pull to change the other person’s view of us—or even to change God’s view of us—or change our view of ourselves. We want to justify ourselves.
While stewing over the topic of humility, I wondered: does anyone actually let go of self-justification and exercise humility? God is good because, yesterday morning, God granted me a wonderful brunch with a 19 year old friend. She is finding out how difficult the workaday world can be, how tricky it can be to navigate relationships with co-workers. A particular co-worker offers up jabs my friend politely calls “unnecessary.” But my friend tells me her co-worker is going through a difficult time having just moved to Arizona after getting a divorce. Her co-worker is adjusting to a new city in a new work environment without the support of her family and friends after what was likely a tumultuous separation. My friend said to me: I just try not to listen to what she says about me because I know it’s not true. And my friend carries on, doing her job, and even supporting her co-worker.
At the heart of the Lutheran theological tradition, don’t go to sleep, this is actually relevant! At the heart of the Lutheran theological tradition lies what is called the doctrine of justification. This is not a doctrine about how we, the people of God, make ourselves right before God. It’s not a doctrine about how we make ourselves right in the view of other people. No, the central doctrine of the Lutheran theological tradition says that we are justified by God’s grace. By God’s grace. No one else is involved in our justification, not us, not our hurt neighbor, not our grieving co-worker, just God. Turns out, there is no need for us to justify ourselves before God, before others, or before ourselves because God has already done so. Whether we are the arrogant Pharisee or the humble tax collector, God’s grace justifies us. And for that, we can say: Thanks be to God! Amen.