Homily — 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18 <> 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18 <> Luke 18:9-14

Fr. Timothy W. Castor

We have just heard the second of two parables on prayer from the 18^th chapter of Saint Luke’s Gospel. We heard the first one last week: the parable of the persistent widow. These parables were given by our Lord as he made his last trip to Jerusalem to face his crucifixion and death for our salvation, and then to rise again to give us new life. If you remember from last week, Luke gave us the reason for the parable right up front: "Then he told them a parable about the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary." He does the same thing in today’s Gospel: "He then addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else." There’s never been a shortage of that kind of person in the world. And, if we’re honest with ourselves, we’d have to admit that most, if not all, of us have shared that attitude of superiority at one time or other in our lives. So, I think we can safely say that this parable is meant for each one of us.

The picture our blessed Lord paints here could not be more true to life. He describes the scene as if he had witnessed it himself. And, as our Creator and omniscient God, who sees all the affairs of the human race, it’s a scene I’m sure he has witnessed countless times throughout human history. "Two people went up to the temple area to pray." The first thing to notice here is, perhaps, a minor point, but an important one: Jesus clearly approves of the fact that the normal place of prayer is the building consecrated and set apart for that purpose. While no one can deny that you can pray anywhere, and God will hear you anywhere; still, the members of God’s family have a home here on earth—a temporary home, to be sure, and one built by human hands. But a home nonetheless where God is pleased to fix his presence in a special way. For the Jew, this was the Temple in Jerusalem. For us, it is our churches and chapels—any place where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. Here, with the Tabernacle, our Lord is as present to us as he was to his disciples, though he is hidden under the appearance of bread. If God was present to those who went to Jerusalem’s Temple to pray, he is all the more present to us—not just in figure or symbol, but in reality. But now let’s return to our story.

"One was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector." These two were polar opposites. Today, we tend to think of the word "Pharisee" as a synonym for "hypocrite." And that’s mostly because of Gospel passages like this one. But in Jesus’ day, the Pharisees were thought to be the good guys. They were the religious leaders who lived exemplary lives and were admired and respected by all. Our Lord was so hard on them precisely because they were so close to the truth. And yet it was their hypocrisy (which most people never even noticed) that kept them from that perfect union with God to which we are all called.

The tax collectors, on the other hand, were universally despised. They were Jews who had sold out to the hated Romans and who, on behalf of the emperor and his army, took money from their own countrymen in order to fatten the coffers of the occupying enemy (as well as their own pocketbooks). The Pharisees kept the Law of Moses in its most minute details, including all the rules and regulations added by the rabbis throughout the centuries. The tax collectors had little or no regard for the Law and were considered to be the worst of sinners. So, these are the two who come to pray in the Temple. Let’s listen, now, to their prayers.

"The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself." We can picture the scene in our minds: the Pharisee, with his fine clothes and proud bearing, finds a prominent place in the Temple precincts. He glances around to see who notices him (ah, there’s a tax collector), and then, with all the paraphernalia of prayer—the phylacteries, the prayer shawl, the correct posture and gestures—he begins to declaim. But notice what our Lord says: he’s not praying to God, he’s praying to himself! And what is his prayer? Well, he starts off by making a good confession—of other people’s sins! "O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity—greedy, dishonest, adulterous—or even like this tax collector." The poor fool is completely oblivious to his own sin—his pride, his selfishness, his false piety, his prejudice. And so, instead of confessing his own faults and failings, he confesses the sins of others and condemns the tax collector without really knowing a thing about him. Then he begins a litany of self-righteousness: "I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income." He began his prayer with the words, "O God, I thank you," but he doesn’t really acknowledge any of God’s gifts. Instead, he seems to be inviting the Lord to join him in his act of self-congratulation and self-praise. "I do this and I do that." He fasts twice a week: God never commanded Israel to do this. Fasting is a good thing if it helps us to pray. But what about those who are forced to fast seven days a week because of their poverty—because people like the Pharisee refuse to recognize their needs and extend a helping hand. He pays a tithe on his whole income. Big deal. He’s only giving back to God what belongs to God anyway. Everything we have is a gift from God. We are merely the stewards of his gifts. He does ask us to tithe our income, and it’s certainly a good thing to do, but it’s nothing to congratulate ourselves on; as if somehow we place God in our debt. "See what I’ve done, Lord? Now you owe me!"

Well, that’s the Pharisee’s prayer: a big waste of words and air, if you ask me. But let’s listen to the tax collector. He "stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’" What a beautiful picture of humility and of the contrite heart God loves so much. The prayer is short and simple, but in those few words, he says it all: he knows who he is, a sinner; and he knows who God is, the One who is all mercy, forgiveness and love. This is true humility: seeing God for who he is, and as a result, seeing ourselves in the proper perspective. Because of this humility, Jesus tells us, the tax collector went home justified, forgiven, made right with God. But the Pharisee—still steeped in his self-centeredness and pride—left the Temple completely unchanged. Thinking God would reward him because of all the good things he had done, in the end he gains absolutely nothing, and is left only with the delusion of his own importance and self-righteousness. In fact, he is even worse off than before he came to the Temple because he has sunk even deeper into his sins.

So, these two parables teach us two essential characteristics of prayer. Last week we learned that we must persevere and be tireless in our prayer. In other words, our prayer must be faithful. Even when God delays, we must trust that he will answer in his time and according to his will. And today, we learn that our prayer must be humble. By recognizing who God is, we recognize who we are and we approach his throne of mercy accordingly.

But as Christians, prayer is not something we do just once in awhile. Saint Paul tells us to "pray constantly," pray without ceasing. Therefore, these qualities of prayer, faithfulness and humility, should characterize our whole lives. Let’s ask the Lord, then, to give us these gifts—to make us faithful and humble servants—so that we will know peace in this life and eternal happiness in the life to come.

I’d like to shift gears for a moment now. Earlier in my homily, I mentioned the importance of recognizing the church as our primary place of prayer because of the real presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament reserved in the Tabernacle. Many of you know that the year from October 2004 to October 2005 has been proclaimed the Year of the Eucharist by our Holy Father, Pope John Paul II. This special year was kicked off in our own diocese last Sunday at the conclusion of the 40 Hours devotion in our cathedral in Rapid City. The Holy Father has designated two particular goals to be attained during this year. In his own words, he has written, "There is a particular need to cultivate a lively awareness of Christ’s real presence, both in the celebration of Mass and in the worship of the Eucharist outside Mass." in other words, we are to grow in our love and reverence for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, especially as it is celebrated week by week on the Lord’s Day; and we are to grow in our devotion and appreciation for Christ’s Real Presence in the Eucharist as we worship and adore the Blessed Sacrament reserved in our Tabernacles. The Holy Father says that this increased devotion will express itself in mission: there should be a growing desire to bear witness to Christ’s real presence by sharing this truth with others outside our Catholic Faith; and there should be a greater impetus to help those in need—the poor, the hungry, the elderly, the sick. The pope puts it this way, "... by our mutual love and, in particular by our concern for those in need we will be recognized as true followers of Christ. This will be the criterion by which the authenticity of our Eucharistic celebrations is judged."

Throughout this year, Fr. Brian and I will be preaching and teaching on the Holy Eucharist; and we will be providing opportunities to express our love and devotion to Christ who has remained with us in the Sacrament of the Altar. There are three things which we will begin immediately in all the celebrations of Sunday Mass throughout the parishes of the Cheyenne River Reservation. These will take place during and immediately after Communion. We will no longer be playing recorded or instrumental music during the Communion Rite. Instead, we will all sing a Eucharistic chorus as we approach to receive Holy communion. We’ll probably change this chorus several times throughout the year, but the first one we will use is O Sacrament Most Holy. We’ll simply repeat this chorus until everyone has received Communion, and when the last person receives and returns to his or her pew, the singing will end. At that point, we will observe a few moments of silent adoration. In recent years, the Church has stressed the importance of silence in our Eucharistic worship, so we will be providing this time of silence after Communion. You may observe this either seated or kneeling. When the purification of the sacred vessels has been completed, we will then say together a prayer of adoration, humbly kneeling before the Tabernacle as a community. This is offered in order to assist us in focusing our hearts and minds on Christ’s real presence. It is not our intention to add something new to the liturgy. And, once the year of the Eucharist is over, we will no longer say this prayer out loud.

It is our hope that each of these things, as well as the other opportunities we will offer for learning and for worship, will help us to fall more deeply in love with our Eucharistic Lord and with the celebration of the Sacred Liturgy which the Second Vatican Council has taught us is the source and summit of our life as Christians. I’ll close now with the words of our Holy Father, "During this year Eucharistic adoration outside Mass should become a particular commitment for individual parish and religious communities. Let us take the time to kneel before Jesus present in the Eucharist, in order to make reparation by our faith and love for the acts of carelessness, neglect, and even the insults which our Savior must endure in many parts of the world. Let us deepen through adoration our personal and communal contemplation, drawing upon aids to prayer inspired by the word of God and the experience of so many mystics old and new. ... In this Year of grace, sustained by Mary, may the Church discover new enthusiasm for her mission and come to acknowledge ever more fully that the Eucharist is the source and summit of her entire life."