By Fr. Glenn Jones:

Have you ever noticed how politicians say “I” and “me” a lot? I mean … how can you not have? And their minions praise them to the skies … at least in press conferences; who knows what is said behind closed doors? Whether presidents, governors, mayors … representatives, senators, etc., so many seem to do it. But in a way it appears to diminish the actions of their subordinates who actually get things done. Anyone who has been in the military knows that officers oftentimes are praised though it’s the sergeants and the lower ranks who do the work. Even in churches, we priests and ministers are often praised although it’s our staff and volunteers from the Lord’s selfless faithful who do the bulk of the heavy lifting. I’m always a lot more impressed by leaders who attribute success to their subordinates than to themselves, realizing that in any organization, the shiny car doesn’t go unless the unseen engine is working.

Such came to mind while reviewing the Mass Gospel (Luke 18:9-14) for this weekend (Oct. 26), which included Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector coming to pray in the Jerusalem temple. We read: “The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself: ‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity…”, going on to cite details of his (self-deluding) lack of sinfulness and his perfect faith.

Such a lovely act of self-worship, isn’t it? He’s sort of saying: “Aren’t I wonderful? Humanity is so lucky and undeserving to have someone as great as ME. God, aren’t YOU lucky to have me.” We readers (and Jesus’ hearers) probably think of the Pharisee: “Why, you arrogant little snot!”

But have we not met people sort of like that, and felt similar repulsion? If such a person is rich, powerful or attractive, people may nonetheless suppress disgust to stroke that person’s ego in their own pursuit of a hoped-for gain, feeding the fires of narcissistic self-admiration.

The other actor in Jesus’ parable is a tax collector, who “stood off at a distance
and would not even raise his eyes to heaven”, but simply prays: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Jesus concludes: “the [tax collector] went home justified, not the [Pharisee]; for whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

The lesson from this parable is that God’s mercy and forgiveness are reserved for the humble. Before the Christian is always the remembrance of the crucifixion of Jesus to which each of our deeds that depart from the good contributed. Then how do we dare be arrogant when our selfish actions led to that?

We can’t but imagine how God feels when someone has such an attitude of arrogant self-righteousness as the Pharisee. As St. Paul writes: “What have you that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?” (1 Corinthians 4:7) Even the atheist knows that what we are is molded by genetics and our environments. But we Christians also believe that God’s spirit “moves where it will”—that wholly undeserved abundance of grace with which He moves us to seek the good. Is such grace ever withheld? I think not, at least sufficiently given a person’s life condition. Such grace can certainly be refused, but God “desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2: 3-4).

But a great danger that leads to arrogant pride (and thus rejection of grace) is comparing ourselves with other people rather than to the objective model of Jesus. We can, and will when we want to do so, always be able to find someone “worse” than ourselves (thus the popularity of gossip). But we are not judged by comparison with others; God evaluates us and our lives against what He calls us to be via what He has taught us through His teaching.

God tells us through Scripture: “Pride and arrogance and the way of evil and perverted speech I hate.” (Proverbs 8:13) With such strong language from God Himself, how do we dare elevate ourselves above our fellow man who are also God’s children? Are we judged by whether we are richer or prettier or smarter or stronger than someone else? No; we are only judged by our faith and what we do in this life—putting that faith in action. To be richest or smartest …the most beautiful …the most powerful … avails nothing to one who has not loved God and neighbor and lived a good and virtuous life.

There is little that God loves more than humility … the person who is humble before God and Man. We see this most perfectly in Jesus Himself. This is true spiritual beauty.

So, our Pharisee’s self-measure is human, not divine as he believes. St. Augustine points out that the Pharisee left the Temple still burdened, the penitent tax collector with freedom, because humility opens the door of grace. For when we glorify ourselves, we make no room for God; but when we empty ourselves, God fills the empty space.

And humility is not humiliation. The tax collector simply recognizes the truth of who he is before God—and that truth becomes his liberation. Without humility, even our good works become trophies of self; with humility, even our smallest acts of kindness and faith become worship. Pride isolates; humility unites. The proud man prays alone, even in a crowd, because his world contains only his own reflection. But the humble sinner prays in communion with every soul who has ever needed mercy—which is, in truth, all of us. This is why the humble soul is at peace: nothing needs to be proven or proclaimed, for he knows that everything is received as gift.

Editor’s note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.