I was 49 years old when I entered the Order of St. Helena, and felt sure that I had at last found my way home. I was attracted to the daily prayer – especially chanting psalms to ancient Gregorian tones. I loved the idea of living together in Christian community, with the vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience defining our at the dawn of this 21st century.

It felt radical and dramatic. And, to be honest, I felt just a little bit holy – especially on my clothing day when I finally got to put on the habit and cross of my order. I had entered an ancient way of life that began in the 4th century, but has roots in the even more ancient practice of Judaism. Monasticism, in fact, has some striking resemblances to what little we know about Phariseeism in the 1st Century.

In the gospel reading today we meet the familiar stereotype of a Pharisee. Here is an arrogant and haughty man who thanks God for being set apart from the unclean and disorderly ways of the sinner – one of whom just happens to be in prayer right over there on the other side of the room. He makes sure he stands apart from this ritually unclean specimen of a man. In fact, “set apart” is one of the suggested meanings of the word Pharisee….literally, “separate ones” in Hebrew. The name refers to the group’s strict observance of ritual purity and tithing.

The Pharisees were religious men of high standing, united firmly together in principal; a community of like-minded men, with habit-like outfits, upholding the ancient traditions of Israel. They studied Torah and all of its implications with a vigor born of deep religious fervor. They prayed and studied and worshiped God with an attitude of strict adherence to God’s wishes for them. NT Wright believes that through strict adherence to the Mosaic Law, especially the purity codes, the Pharisees could compensate for the frightening changes that were confronting 1st Century Judaism. This included oppression from various Gentile groups, and mounting confrontations from sects within Judaism – of which the new Jesus movement was one among many. The Pharisees compensate out of deep-seated fear of change in a world that is a sea of change all around them. They compensate through strict adherence to religious belief and custom.

This is strikingly similar to how monasticism began. Christians flocked to the deserts to set up communities committed to strict religious beliefs and customs. The Christians weren’t being persecuted anymore, and they feared they would lose their spiritual edge their martyr-connection to the first apostles. Their world was changing, and so they compensated.

The Pharisee we meet today is a holy man of God, exhibiting some surprisingly disturbing behaviors. He starts out on the wrong foot “Thank you God, that I am different from other people.” Then digs his grave by enumerating all the stereotypes of people that make him squirm with discomfort – rogues, theives, adulterers…..gives him the heebie jeebies And then to thoroughly bury himself with muck he brags about all the wonderful things he does for God. His words are an arrogant icing over a frightened and insecure heart. It almost sounds as if….. he doesn’t really believe that God loves him.

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One day at our convent in Georgia, clothed in my white habit, and sitting at my choir stall, I started to pray silently – intending to give only thanks to God, but in the freedom only prayer can bring I experienced words tumbling into my head, directed straight at God:

Thank you God for sending me to this convent where I can pray five times a day and so feel closer to you. Thank you for the opportunity to give all my possessions away. That felt wonderful and I feel so free now.

Thank you for this life of spiritual practices – where I can pray and fast, where I can study, and walk in the woods to find you in the rustling leaves, and where I can discover in the silence: how much Sister Little Flower over there is driving me crazy with her audible sighs, her morose face, and her noisy gum-chewing. Didn’t her mother teach her any better? and then there’s Sister Sing-Song who gets it all wrong with her constant lectures and negative attitude – she’s scaring the guests for Gods sake and Sister Raspberry – spending all day emoting and gossiping and never lifting a finger to help with the dishes – and –

Jesus.

What am I praying? Am I praying? I heard myself and was taken aback and embarrassed. Was I praying?

It’s wonderful to talk to God about our irritations, and to pray for the strength and wisdom to see what is really going on. But I stumbled upon an arrogant chip on my shoulder – I believed the religious life should be led a certain way – my way, and anyone who wavered from my straight line became salt in the wound of my obsession. I was like the Pharisee in my need to separate myself from behaviors that bothered me. It was almost as if I needed to show God how it should be done. Almost as if I didn’t really believe God loved me.

My slip into an attitude of arrogance was a natural part of becoming a religious. I didn’t know this, but my sisters did. I began to struggle in earnest with my ideals of religious life crashing into the reality of rumply, noisy, bossy, and fidgety women living on top of one another, pushing each other’s buttons and muttering under our breath. And the older and wiser sisters smiled knowingly at me and said, Ahhhh. You are on the right path. Keep up the good work.

Like the Pharisee in our story, my attitude of arrogance formed a perma-tight lid on my smoldering emotions of fear, distrust, and anger. The sisters didn’t cause these feelings – they just come along with me wherever I go. We sisters are all engaged in living a life that demands many sacrifices and brings up every ghost from our past to dwell there in the convent with us. It can get very crowded in there sometimes. I for one need to hear this gospel story told just as the crowd around Jesus heard him tell it originally – as a loving guide to living the resurrected life.

When Jesus tells this parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector he is in the last phase of his journey toward Jerusalem. Jesus is giving his disciples instructions on the divinely upside-down justice of God’s kingdom. He is telling them what is important to remember after he dies. He knows that fear, distrust and anger will threaten the fledgling community with the temptation to be arrogant and haughty toward those who differ from them. Luke tells us that Jesus wants any who are sure of themselves or who arrogantly look down on others to pay attention. The early Christians knew this included them. In my honest moments I know that includes me.

Like my monastic sisters, the Pharisee is fully engaged in an admirable way of life. He tithes – by giving 10% of all his goods and income. He fasts twice a week, exceeding the current requirements of the law. This Pharisee hopes to garner extra applause from God for going over and above the regular requirements for giving.

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