The Message, October 26, 2025: "Exalt At Your Own Risk," Luke 18:9-14
Author: Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
November 04, 2025
“Exalt at your Own Risk”
A Message by Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
Luke 18:9-14
I may have mentioned this previously, but I used to be
very competitive. When I was in high school and college, I always looked around
the classroom when our teachers and professors were handing out our tests and
papers. I always wanted to see if I got the highest score in the class.
Of course, in that context, my competitiveness served me
well. In high school I was inducted into the National Honor Society and
graduated eleventh in my class, and I graduated college summa cum laude. “Look
at me! Mister Smarty Pants!”
Thankfully, that competitive nature did not follow me
into my ministry. Except that it did.
When I was attending seminary, I did my student ministry
at the church where I was a member. The church had a basketball court, and I
started a Tuesday evening volleyball game. It was great! We had about twenty
people that came down every Tuesday, but then some of them started NOT showing
up. I asked one of my friends why they were not coming anymore. She said, “It
is too competitive. It is scary. YOU are scary!” Those words hit me hard. I am
scary. Wow.
But … lesson learned? Nope.
After I graduated from seminary, I was invited to interview
for the Associate Pastor position at a church in Shaker Heights, Ohio. When I
went out for the interview, I swooned. The church was massive. The sanctuary
held eight hundred people. The parking lot could hold three or four hundred
cars. There were stained glass windows twenty feet tall crafted by the Tiffany
Glass Company. The Dupont family and other Golden Age industrialists used to
attend there. “Look at this church! Look at me! They want me!”
I left after eleven months. It turned out that the Senior
Minister was arrogant and pretentious.
Lesson learned? Not yet.
Before I had decided to leave that church in Shaker
Heights, a beautiful church in New London, New Hampshire reached out to me.
They wanted me … ME … to be their new associate minister. I said, “Absolutely!
Count me in!”
It was … it IS … the quintessential New England church
sitting on the top of a little hill with its white clapboard siding and Paul
Revere bell … and they wanted me! And everything went great! On Sunday mornings
the sanctuary was full. We had a wonderful choir, and the Sunday school was
growing. The youth group went from zero youth to twenty-five within a couple of
years. I look at other churches and thought, “Look at us! We are the best!!” I
could have waved one of those giant ‘We’re #1’ foam fingers around in worship.
“Look at us! Look at me! Ain’t I great!”
After six years, I got a call from a church … a big
church … in Worcester. They had done a nationwide search for their new
Associate Pastor and they wanted me … even though I had not even applied for
the position. They wanted me, little old me!
Lesson learned? Working on it.
Would you like me to keep going? Do you want to hear me
tell you how great I am? Would you like me to regale you with stories of my
wonderfulness? Of course not! You already know how wonderful I am! Okay … this
is getting awkward. I am already well beyond my comfort zone here. Besides,
this message is not about me. It is about you. It is about US.
It is a familiar parable. We have heard it before. It is
one of several opportunities that Jesus took to teach his disciples about the
dangers of pride and arrogance.
Do you recall the story about the Pharisees parading
through the marketplace with their fine robes and long fringe offering
ostentatious prayers for all to hear?
Do you recall the story of the disciples debating amongst
themselves about who among them would be the greatest?
Do you recall Jesus saying, “The first shall be last and
the last shall be first?”
In this lesson, Jesus offered his listeners this parable.
A Pharisee and a tax collector go up to the Temple to pray. As we heard, the
Pharisee stood apart from everyone else so that the others gathered there for
prayer would be certain to recognize that HE was a Pharisee. And then, just in
case God did not see how wonderfully faithful and righteous the Pharisee was …
he told God. “Look at me, God, but you had better sit down first. I am about to
knock your socks off! I am not required to fast twice per week … but I do. I am
only required to tithe ten percent on my produce … but I tithe on ALL of my
income. I am not only set apart from all of those sinners … but I am super
righteous! You are welcome, God. I know that you appreciate my super
righteousness.”
Would you not just love to spend time with someone like
that fictitious Pharisee? Perhaps you do. Perhaps he is standing in front of
you right now.
We did not hear much of anything from the tax collector.
We heard that he stood far off. He was likely ashamed and felt unworthy. Unlike
the Pharisee, he did not want to draw attention to himself. He knew that he was
probably hated by every other person that had gathered there in that Temple
courtyard.
All we heard from the tax collector were the opening
words from his prayer, taken from the opening verse of Psalm 51: “Have mercy on
me, O God … a sinner.”
I can only speak for myself, but as I read this parable,
I recoil from the “prayer” of the Pharisee. The “righteous” religious leader
creates a visceral and negative feeling within me. The arrogance and
self-righteousness are reprehensible. Yes, that is a strong word, but that was
the feeling that the character of the Pharisee evoked in me.
And
at the same time, I am sympathetic toward the sinner. As I read the parable, I
hear his heartbreak, I hear his desperation. I can almost feel him beating upon
his breast … as if he is beating on mine. “Have mercy on me, O God. A sinner.”
As
we listen to the lesson all these centuries later, how does this story affect
you? How does it speak to you? What is your reaction? Do you hear it and feel
it deep within you? Does it trigger anything within you?
Remember
the opening verse of the passage: “He also told this parable to some who
trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with
contempt.” We often miss this verse because we are anxious to get to the
heart of the story, but as it turns out, this IS the heart of the lesson. Jesus
was not offering this lesson on humility to a random group of individuals. He
told this parable to ‘some who trusted in themselves that THEY were righteous
and regarded others with contempt.’ The character of the Pharisee did not
emerge out of thin air. He was talking directly to some of the people that
followed him.
And
that is why this parable is about me … and perhaps you … and possibly about us.
So
often, when we listen to these lessons, we think that Jesus is talking about
those OTHER sinners. “Surely you do not mean ME, Jesus! I am not like those
others, those rogues, or thieves. I am not like those self-righteous jerks over
there!”
But
the reality is that we can very easily stumble into that territory. We can very
easily think more highly of ourselves than we ought, and think less of those
others. We are often more likely to pat ourselves on the back than to beat our
breasts and confess those ways that we have fallen short.
We
are often more likely to say, “Look at me, God! Look how proud I must make
you!” Rather than fall on our knees and say, “Forgive me, O God. Have mercy on
me.”
The
parable calls us to self-reflection rather than self-righteousness. It asks to
consider how we move through the world, how we treat one another, how we feel
about one another.
The
stories that I shared to open this message were not fiction. I did not
manufacture them to illustrate the message. That competitiveness and judgement
of others was very prominent and very real in my formative years. They remain
issue with which I struggle.
Yes,
this parable is for me.
Does
it speak to you as well?
Amen.
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