In our first reading and psalm we heard that the Lord hears the cry of the poor and the oppressed. According to our Gospel, He also hears the cry of the tax collector. 

In Jesus’ time, the tax collector’s job was to enforce the tax imposed by the Roman occupiers. Tax collectors were known to overcharge and pocket the difference. So imagine if a foreign country had won a war against us and was occupying us and a family member or friend was working as a tax collector and essentially stealing from us. They were stealing from and getting rich off of their own people, their friends, even their family.

 

Tax collectors were perceived as greedy, dishonest, and more loyal to the Romans than to their own community and family members. We could think of them as corrupt government officials.  It is easy to feel sympathy for the lowly and the oppressed - we understand why the Lord attends to the cries of orphans and widows. But the tax collector? The corrupt government official?

 

It is not so easy to feel sympathy toward him, or to understand why his prayer is heard. Yet Jesus challenges us with this parable and its conclusion: The tax collector went home justified.

 

Obviously, the circumstances of the lowly and oppressed are very different from the tax collector. Someone does not choose to be weak or poor, or to be a widow or orphan. It is life’s unfortunate circumstances that bring about such conditions, usually through no fault of their own. 

 

On the other hand, the tax collector chooses his profession and how he conducts his business. Yet in this parable, the tax collector shares an important virtue with the poor and oppressed: humility. 

 

They have all been humbled, whether by life’s circumstances or their own doing. The lowly and oppressed know their poverty, their weakness, and their need for the Lord. They have been humbled by life’s circumstances, and they willingly place themselves in the Lord’s hands. 

 

The tax collector, too, has been humbled. As a tax collector, he would have been shunned from his community. He wouldn’t have been welcome to worship his God with his people. And he knows it was his own doing, his own fault. He realizes he is a sinner in need of God’s mercy. 

 

He goes to the temple to pray, but cannot even lift his eyes. He stands apart, off at a distance because he knows he isn’t welcome there. As he beats his breast in the traditional gesture of sorrow and remorse, he begs for mercy. 

 

Like the orphan and widow, he puts himself in God’s hands. The Lord hears his cry, and he goes home justified.

 

The Lord hears the cry of the poor and the tax collector, but does he hear our prayers? The Lord knows no favorites, but he hears the cry of those who are humble enough to admit their need for him, their need for his mercy and redemption. 

 

He waits for us to need him, to long for him, so that he can be our strength and our salvation. When we pray, it is not to exalt ourselves as more worthy to be heard by him than others. Rather, when we pray it is to humble ourselves to be heard. 

 

And another aspect of this Gospel is just this notion of comparing ourselves and justifying ourselves against our neighbors.  First off, it is impossible to know everything that has gone on in someone else's life, so there is no use in comparing.  But more importantly, when we stand before the throne of God, it won’t be like this where we make excuses or look at someone else in comparison.

 

I am reading this book right now called The Warning by Christine Watkins which has to do with the Illumination of Conscience. The Illumination is basically a moment in time when every person alive will see their soul in the light of divine truth.

 

The prophecies of the Warning, as discussed in the book, have come to us through saints and mystics, such as Blessed Pope Pius IX and St. Faustina, and it tells stories of people who have already experienced the Illumination of Conscience, and tells how a day is coming when it will happen to everyone all at the same time as a massive, final call to repentance.  

 

I believe it will happen in my lifetime, but nobody knows, of course. And at the very least it will happen at the end of my life, when I stand before God.

 

In this moment, whether here on earth or after death, we will see everything as it is, and there is no time, no need really, to make an excuse or try to justify oneself when faced with the simple reality of how we lived our lives. 

 

We don’t get to explain the context or how we were feeling as we sinned. God will show us our sin from His perspective. He is all merciful, but He is also just. “The LORD is a God of justice,” as our first reading said.

 

So this is why we need to humble ourselves, taking an honest look at how we have lived, are living, and how we should live, in light of the great love God has for us and His desire for us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

 

This is also why we need to Surrender to God.  I hope you are enjoying those novena cards, if you weren’t here last week well we ran out, and I’ll buy some more, but surrender is part of this, humility, realizing we can’t save ourselves, we can’t argue out of how we lived, we need Jesus, and we need His help here and now.

 

In fact, I was talking to a guy last week, and he was pretty proud of himself - he told me about all of the different religions and theological systems he has studied and he concluded, “I’ve read everything, and all of these religions basically say the same thing, ‘be kind to each other.’”

 

Is that it? “Be kind” and you’ll go to Heaven? No, that misses the point. In fact, it’s one of the greatest heresies of our time. It’s like trying to save ourselves, like “I just have to be kind to others and I’ll be saved.” No, Jesus is our savior, and we must first acknowledge our sinfulness, then place our faith in Him because He can save us from our sins. 

 

A living faith requires action. We know we can do nothing by ourselves to be who God created us to be, but we repent of our sins and seek to change our life and God gives us the grace to make it happen. We have to cooperate with His grace.  

 

It takes humility to repeat those words of the tax collector, 'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.' (This phrase, by the way, is a perfectly valid Act of Contrition in the confessional. It takes humility to go to confession.)

 

God’s Son humbled Himself to be one with us, to teach us to be humble and to place ourselves in God’s hands, as He did when He surrendered Himself to the cross. In this Eucharist, we recall His humility and seek the grace to be humble like Jesus. 

 

The Eucharist is our ultimate source of grace. What will you do with that grace when you leave this place?