There is an old story about a pastor who wanted to make a point about humility. One Sunday, after reading today’s gospel about the Pharisee and the tax collector, he said, “Now, let’s all bow our heads and thank God that we are not like that Pharisee!” The congregation laughed – and then went quiet – because they realized that even in joking, they had fallen into the same trap. We think we are better than…
That is what Jesus is teaching us today. Two men go up to the temple to pray. One stands tall, sure of himself, reciting a list of good deeds – fasting, tithing, and comparing himself to others. The other man stands off in the corner, beating his chest, unable even to lift his eyes to heaven, and simply says, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
And Jesus shocks everyone by saying it is the tax collector who goes home justified, not the religious man. Why? Because the Pharisee’s prayer is not really a prayer – it is a performance. It is about himself, not God. The tax collector’s prayer, on the other hand, is simple, honest, and real.
God listens to real!
A few years ago, a young man went to confession after a long time away. He sat down nervously and began, “Father, I don’t even know where to start.” The priest smiled and said, “Start with your name.” The man said, “I’m Michael.” And the priest said, “Well, Michael, that is a good start – because you are not starting with your sins, you are starting with yourself. God does not just see your mistakes. God sees you. God loves you. And God has been waiting for you to come home.”
Tears came to Michael’s eyes. He had not expected mercy. But mercy found him anyway. That is what this parable is about. Mercy finds the humble. Grace comes to those who know they need it.
The Pharisee’s pride built a wall between himself and God. The tax collector’s humility opened a door. Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself; it means thinking of yourself less – so there’s room for God.
Every time we begin Mass, we echo the tax collector’s prayer: “Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.” It is not a cry of shame – it is an invitation for grace.
So today, as we gather around this altar, let us pray not with the pride of the Pharisee but with the honesty of the tax collector. “Lord, I need You. Have mercy on me. Make me new.” And if we can pray that from the heart – then we, too, will go home justified.