THIRTIETH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (2025)
Readings:
Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18
Psalms 34:2-3, 17-19, 23
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Luke 18:9-14
The Book of Sirach clearly shows the predisposition of God in both Old and New Testaments towards the weak, the oppressed, the poor, the orphan, the widow, and the lowly. The expression which closes our brief first reading should fill all those who pray fervently with an enormous amount of hope: “The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds; it does not rest til it reaches its goal, nor will it withdraw til the Most High responds, judges justly and affirms the right, and the Lord will not delay.” Sirach’s teaching makes praying seem like a sure thing, and it is, as long as we judge by God’s standards and not man’s, which the Scriptures remind us are so different from each other. Harken back to the widow of last weekend’s gospel who is praised for her persistence, which implies that there were countless numbers of times when she felt her prayers were unheard – but she kept praying, knowing that by expressing the deepest feelings of her heart she stands a chance of “piercing the clouds” and moving God to soften the hardened heart of the unjust judge.
Most of our prayers are boldly introduced, for they often begin with the sign of the cross. We dare to uttter our prayers in the name of the most holy Trinity – “In the name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.” It places all prayer in the holiest of places, making every prayer we utter divine. Perhaps the most ignored part of our liturgy is the responsorial psalm, which always separates our first and second readings. The psalms, which are often attributed to King David, are the liturgical prayers of a people who once existed. Written roughly some five hundred years before the arrival of Christ, they give us an insight into the liturgical life of the Israelite people who prayed at different times with different prayers. There can be hymns of praise and thanksgiving, prayers that cry for help and assistance, and, more than any other variety, prayers of lament and affliction. When we hear the psalms proclaimed, we are listening to the desires of real people. In keeping with the overall theme of the liturgy, today’s psalm begins:
“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall be ever in my mouth.
Let my soul glory in the Lord; the lowly will hear me and be glad.”
If we gloss over the psalms chosen by the Church, we miss the opportunity of listening to an ancient people in their simple act of praying.
Once again, the physician and evangelist Luke tells us the exact reason for the uttering of this particular parable: “Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.” This parable directly follows last weekend’s parable of the evil judge and the persistent widow. Indeed, Jesus could be talking about the judge from last weekend, for the Pharisee has a great deal in common with that judge. Throughout the gospels, Jesus attacks the Pharisees for their hypocrisy, a hypocrisy that blinds them from seeing in Jesus God’s only Son.
We are given a bird’s eye view of the Temple. Two people come into the Temple and we are privileged to even hear what they are thinking, and praying. Knowing that there is a widespread dislike of tax collectors in Jesus’ day, who are viewed by many as cooperating with the Romans in exacting taxes from the Jewish people, we might expect the bad guy in the story to be the tax collector. In today’s parable, however, the tax collector fares better than the Pharisee, for when his thoughts are revealed, they are far from the more humble thought of the tax collector. The prayer he utters is more like bragging. He thanks God, alright, but he thanks God for not making him “like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous.” No doubt looking at the tax collector, the Pharisee continues, thank God I am not like that tax collector, and then continues with his bragging: “I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.” There is no doubt that the Pharisee is doing a good job of exalting himself.
The tax collector is a picture of humility, standing in a place where he might not even be seen, he beats his breast and prayed simply: “God be merciful to me a sinner.” It is the much-hated tax collector who is praised by Jesus, and his trip to the Temple left him justified by God.
The privilege I have possessed by being a priest, allows me to have seen scenes like this play out often. Indeed, it is natural to want to boast of those good things that we manage to do, but when push comes to shove we are only doing what we signed up to do. The Christian does not brag about good deeds done to only draw attention to oneself. What we all have in common is that we are sinners, which is why every Mass begins with a penitential rite. It’s meant to be a reminder that we gather together because of God’s good graces and His unconditional love, it’s meant to be a reminder that every Mass should be a lesson in humility. Yes, we are called to behave in the way Jesus taught us to behave, but if we boast about our good deeds too much, we need to remember that “whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the person who humbles himself will be exalted.”
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