Written by Pastor Ed
Scripture Texts: Psalm 84, Luke 18:9-14
A TV commercial I recall shows a couple revisiting places that were significant in their relationship. "“Oh, this is where we met, or this is where we went on our first date.” And in the final scene the girl remarks, “I don’t remember this place.” To which the boy say, “but you will!” and presents her with a diamond ring – which is, of course, what was being advertised.
All of us have those special places that we remember, sometimes because of the place, and other times because of what happened there. Those places become sacred or carry special meanings for us. *They might be around a worship circle with tall trees in
These places are special, not so much because of what they are, in and of themselves, although they may be spectacular, but because of the associations we make with those places. Whether of an experience, or a particular time in our lives, or whatever.
For the Psalmist, one of those places was the temple, or Mt Zion. “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts.” “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord than to live in the tents of wickedness” But it is not so much that the temple is beautiful, although I’m sure it was, but rather because it is there that the Psalmist meets God. As James Waltner points out in his commentary on the Psalms, the Psalmist quickly moves from place in v. 1, to experience in v. 2 – “my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God.”
This Psalm was probably part of the processional as pilgrims made their way to the temple, expectantly approaching the place where they would meet God in a new way. It was a sacred moment, and they anticipated “favor and honor” from the God who dwelt there.
This Psalm is often used in worship and particularly at times of dedicating a new church building or similar events. For me, one of the associations is with the setting of this Psalm in Johannes Brahms’ A German Requiem. We tend to associate it with worship and church.
Yet it seems that fewer people are expecting that when they come to church, or even think about coming. According to an article at CanadianChristianity.com
The first systematic survey, a
Reginald Bibby, a noted sociologist at the U. of Lethbridge and quoted in the article, suggests that the percentage may have climbed back up a bit to around 25%, but goes on in the article to note that the definition of “regular attendee” has also changed over the years. While regular attendee used to mean a weekly attender, today it can mean someone who attends church once or twice a month. The same point as made in a recent article on US church attendance in The Christian Century, which noted a marked decrease in church attendance in the last 10 years.
While there may be many reasons for this trend, and some quarrel with the statistics, one only needs to look around on Sunday mornings in most churches to see that the feelings of the Psalmist are shared by fewer people these days. I don’t hear a lot of people longing to go to church on Sunday! It’s not always a special place. Why So?
Well, I would like to suggest that one of the reasons is not a new phenomenon. The parable that Jesus told, and we read from Luke 18 may give us some clues, or at least suggest one reason people have been tending to shy away from the organized church as we know it. We may know this story, and have probably seen depictions, such as the one on the front of the bulletin. The Pharisee stands with head uplifted and arms outstretched praying loudly, thanking God that he is not like all the poor sinners around him, and noting to God all the good things he does – fasting twice a week and giving the proper portion of his income.
The tax collector, on the other hand, is portrayed with bowed head, sometimes kneeling, and praying the simple prayer of contrition, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.” It is a parable that has been preached on and commented on a lot. One of my favorite comments was by Tertullian, in the second century, who said, “What superior advantage will they who pray too loudly gain, except that they annoy their neighbours?
But as Kate Huey states,
"The hook in this story may be our own temptation to identify with the tax collector and not the Pharisee, even though the Pharisee may resemble many more of us in many more ways than we would like to think, in the life of the church and in our society."
How easy it is for us to think we are like the tax collector, and say, “I am sure glad I am not like that Pharisee.” Thus disproving our assumption totally. It seems to me that this parable is not so much about prayer itself, but about our attitude as we come to worship. Luke notes that Jesus told this parable to “some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.” The Pharisee and the tax collector came ot the temple with very difference premises in mind.
The Pharisee comes to worship convinced there are two kinds of people in the world – the righteous and the sinners. And he clearly knows where he belongs, and is more than ready to place others where they belong. The Pharisee thus places himself in a position of superiority and is able to quickly cast darts at those around him. He perhaps couldn’t keep them out of the temple, but he certainly wasn’t about to associate with them. And, it would seem, he carefully chooses those things to name that make him superior.
The tax collector on the other hand, comes with a very different premise, namely that we are all sinners. In his world there are no insiders and outsiders, no classes of sinner. For him, the temple is the place to come as equals – all sinners before an awesome God. When you start from that premise it makes a world of difference as to how you experience this place and what happens here.
Far too many people see the church as primarily full of Pharisees. I recall one man in the community where I first remember attending church who told the pastor that he couldn’t come to church because he didn’t have good enough clothes, and generally wore overalls. The pastor responded by saying that whenever the man wanted to come, the pastor would dress in his overalls as well.
One of the comments left on the Canadian Christianity web site related to the article on church attendance said:
God Has been showing me the state of the Churches, as I have been kicked out of a number of churches for getting down on my knees to pray. One person even told me that he was going to call the police if I didn't get up & leave. I've even prayed all night in casinos because they have been open 24 hrs while the churches locks out the very people that want to pray & others that need our help! The Church is Sick & needs healing which only God can bring but can't as long as he is locked out side & only invited in twice a week for a few hours.”
While this may be an extreme response, and I’m not suggesting that churches ought to be left unlocked as this person seems to, I am suggesting that one of the reasons many people don’t attend worship is because we, the regulars, are more like the Pharisee than we like to admit. We tend to set up categories, and place ourselves in the most advantageous ones. We look around and see other people who clearly aren’t like us because they do things, or don’t do things, that society and we don’t approve of, and feel superior.
At our Inter-Mennonite Ministerial this week we heard about a project called “A Place to Call Home: Acadia Place” a project of KAIROS and the Calgary Homeless Foundation. We talked some about homelessness in Calgary and one pastor shared the story of a person in one congregation who disguised himself as a homeless person on a Sunday morning and sat at the front door of the church as people entered. As you can imagine there were various attempts to get him to “move on”, or at best he was ignored. Then, when it came time for the Children’s Time in the service, imagine everyone’s surprise when he walked to the front to give the children’s story and revealed who he was.
I recall my University days when I went home to my home congregation with long hair (and yes, I did have hair then) and a beard- not something that was looked highly upon in those days of hippies and protest. I overheard one person say, just load enough so I could hear, “If he wants to look like a hippie, why doesn’t he just go join them!” And believe me, comments like that could have easily driven me away. Thankfully there were others who accepted me for who I was and encouraged me in my faith which was still present along with my appearance.
As I have listened to some of your stories I know that some of you know what it is like to be refugees. Some of you know what it is like to be different than everyone else around you. Each of us has undoubtedly experienced times when we have felt on the outside, different, and even rejected. Those are not good memories and we do not identify those places as ones that carry images of the sacred in them. That should help us recognize the importance of welcoming the stranger.
If there is one place where all should be welcome, it should be at worship. Here we all come on the pilgrimage of faith. Here we all come as equals before God. This is not a place to feel superior to others, to make comparisons or judgements. If this is to be a place where people long to come, then it must become a place where we come into the presence of a living God and recognizing that presence, recognize our humanity, our fallenness, and together with all God’s people pray with the tax collector, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.”
One of the things that has fallen out of practice in many of our churches is a sense of corporate confession. At one of our Annual Conference sessions several years ago, Christ Community Church in Des Moines, IA led a worship service, and as is their practice, at one point in the service invited everyone to kneel and pray a prayer of confession. And afterwards peoples said, “we used to do that.” And in the daily prayer book of the Missio Dei Mennonite community in Minneapolis, each morning prayer time begins with this tax collector’s prayer.
I’m not sure what the form needs to be, or even if there needs to be a form per se, but I am convinced that we need to be reminded in some way that here, at worship, we are all brothers and sisters, all are invited, and we are all saints and sinners. No one can rely on themselves, but we all rely on God’s grace.
Only then will people see this as a place where God dwells and only then will they say with the Psalmist, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts.” Only then will people come to experience God’s blessing and favor in this place. May it become so.
Prayer:
Lord, forgive us for those times when we have seen ourselves as superior to others, especially when we have done so in the context of worship. Grant us grace to see ourselves as you see us and to join with all your people through the ages who have prayed, God, be merciful to us sinners. May we truly long for your presence, and the presence of all your people in this place. Amen.