What Would Have Happened if the Pharisee and the Tax Collector Stood Next to Each Other?

This morning's Gospel--two men went up into the temple to pray--you remember--the Pharisee and the tax collector?  The Pharisee gives "thanks" that he's not awful like all those other people and the tax collector beats his breast and refuses to even look up.  I suspect that as many people listened to the Gospel they were trying to figure out which "character" they most closely resembled--were they more like the Pharisee or more like the tax collector?  These two illustrate the extremes of people's response to God and God's love, and I wager that we all slide up and down the continuum probably more than we'd like to admit.  There's a sermon in there.  There is something to be said about how we are all neither too good or not good enough, but not mine (at least not mine for today).  I am more intrigued by the positioning of the men--their literal placement--where they are standing.

Both men went up into the temple, but the Gospel says the tax collector stood far off.  In my imagination I picture the Pharisee standing very close to the altar and the tax collector way in the back perhaps even hiding in the shadows trying to fade into the background, to not be seen or known.  They are so far away from each other--too far to see one another's faces, too far to be a part of one another's prayer.  Too far to even feel one another's presence.  I believe both men went into the temple with the need to encounter God, and I believe that although the tax collector left justified, their physical distance kept them both from a powerful encounter.  I believe they could have both met God in the other if they had just crossed the divide.

It's easy to criticize the Pharisee; it's easy to say he was arrogant and thought he was completely self sufficient and so much better than everyone else.  It's easy to say that because he was. He was arrogant and condescending.  But I wonder; I wonder if some of that arrogance, some of that comparing himself to others really comes from a deep seated fear of not being good enough?  I wonder if he is masking his vulnerability and that there is a small part of himself, maybe even a part that he doesn't recognize, that is desperately hoping that someone, anyone will see his need.  That God will see his fear.   He did go to the temple; if he wanted only to list his attributes, couldn't he have done it somewhere else?  Why did he come?

There is the question for me and the answer--why did they go to the temple?  Why do we gather together as a community of faith?  What's the point especially when there are people there we don't like?  In our community of faiths we are so often surrounded by people who are so not according to culture "like" us.  There are so many people there with whom we have nothing in common.  There are people there who live in different neighborhoods, come from different socio-economic backgrounds, vote for the opposite party, and cheer for the wrong teams.  But, I believe our common need is to encounter God and to be reminded again and again that we are loved --each and everyone of us no exceptions.

I read somewhere this week a "truly faithful life can only be lived in community."  It is in community--in a community that is made up of struggling, weak, broken, vulnerable, and flawed people where we truly encounter God.  Yes, perhaps there are times when each of us feels the powerful presence of God when we are alone--those are wonderful times and should be cherished.  But I believe that more often we encounter God in one another.  Church--church as the body of Christ, not the building, is the living Christ amongst us.  It is through engaging with one another that we again and again encounter God.  These encounters come in big ways and in small ways.  They come when we exchange the peace with one another sometimes with someone with whom we'd rather not, and they come when we kneel next to one another at the altar.  But they also come in words we say--"Hey, I heard your daughter wasn't feeling well.  We don't live far from you, give us a call if we can help."  Or in the seasonings that someone gives so that each time you use them, each time you eat a meal that has been seasoned by them you remember--you remember the person and your remember the love--and the meal becomes holy.  Or they come when you're invited to a 65th birthday party and you feel truly welcomed and loved.  They come in the hug from a child and in the laughter of the teens.  But they come, encounters with God come in community--if we open our eyes--if we stand close enough together, I promise, they come.