There is no "Rest of Humanity"

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, which is directed at a group of people who see themselves as holy and others as sinners to be looked down upon. In the parable, the Pharisee goes to the temple and as a prayer, offers up his own successes - his tithing, his generosity, his purity - in an attempt to set himself apart from the “rest of humanity.” Meanwhile, the tax collector’s prayer is contrite, begging for God’s forgiveness. Jesus ends the parable by telling the self-righteous group that those who are like the tax collector, honestly reflecting on themselves and their own shortcomings will be exalted, unlike those like the Pharisee who see themselves as without sin. 

If I’m being totally honest, I often struggle with Biblical passages because I find the context (“What even is a Pharisee?”) and the language (“What does ‘exalted’ even really mean?”) to be so far removed from my life that it’s difficult to feel like what’s written could possibly be relevant to me. While reflecting on the Gospel, my mind kept coming back to Twitter, a digital space that has become akin to a public forum that I imagine temples were in Jesus’ time. With everything that’s going on in the world, Twitter has become flooded by posts similar to that of the prayer spoken by the Pharisee: people proclaiming to be righteously doing the “right things” (i.e. staying in) while sharing sharing videos of people they perceive to be doing the “wrong things” (i.e. going out) and ranting about how immoral those people are. These posts one my Twitter feed have thousands of ‘likes’, thousands of people proclaiming their own righteousness with the click of a button. Looking at my own posts, I can’t help but notice: I’m like the Pharisee. 

In our increasingly public, digital, 280-character world, many of us regularly offer up public displays of righteousness. My challenge to myself and others is this: the next time you feel the urge to post something showing how righteous you are, consider the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector and remember that there is no “rest of humanity.” 

We are all God’s children, called to shape the world with humility and kindness. The next time we feel the urge to make a judgmental remark online or in person, perhaps we are better off asking ourselves, “Is this response coming from a place of love, empathy, and respect?” If we find the answer is no, we would probably be better off following the adage we learned from our parents: If you can’t find something nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

In fact, Jesus tells us we’re better off taking this one step further and looking inward, acknowledging what we all know to be true. Each of us is a sinner, imperfectly made in God’s perfect image. Jesus shows us over and over that love is an action. And when is the last time you showed your neighbor love? To me, the difficult part of this is the fact that in our ever increasingly public, digital, 280-character world the reach of who is our neighbor is stretching further than ever. Your literal neighbor is your neighbor. Your coworker is your neighbor. Your friend’s aunt on Facebook whose posts make you roll your eyes is your neighbor. The troll on Twitter who infuriates you is your neighbor. The elderly man in line at the grocery store is your neighbor. 

The guy behind him buying all the toilet paper is your neighbor too.

How can you show your neighbor love? 

Author: Liz Bramlett, Science Department