Metrics of Measurement

Judging ourselves by the standard of Jesus Christ

03/29/2025

Luke 18:9-14 Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else. “Two people went up to the temple area to pray; one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector. The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself, ‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity —  greedy, dishonest, adulterous — or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.’ But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’ I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Apollo and I went for our rosary walk early this morning and came across someone sleeping by the school. I hated to wake him up – he was completely covered in a blanket and looked like a Polish kolachi – but I couldn’t just let him sleep there. So I said softly but firmly: “Good morning, sir. I’m sorry to wake you up but you cannot sleep here.”

He slowly came out of his cocoon and asked groggily: “What time is it?” I said, “It’s 5:15.” And then I did my best Darby Bybee impersonation and added: “It’s not going to rain today and should be sunny and warm.” I hoped that cheerful forecast would get him moving along faster. Apollo was very polite to our guest and didn’t bark or growl at him. We lingered for a few moments to make sure he didn’t go back to sleep.

Since we had just started the rosary, I decided to pray the first Joyful Mystery for that man and that his day might be blessed. I don’t know about you but when I encounter the homeless like that it can be very tempting and easy to judge them and feel very superior by contrast. After all, they are just lazy and selfish and I am up early, walking my dog, and praying my rosary.

But that thinking would be exactly the wrong metric of measurement. That is, instead of comparing my life to a homeless man’s life, I should compare my life against the standard of Jesus’ life. And then suddenly things look very different, especially when I remember the story of the Good Samaritan and all he did to help the beaten man he found by the side of the road.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen once observed that if you take an old painting and look at it by candlelight, it looks pretty good: its colors, images and textures. But take that same painting and look at it under the noonday sun, and immediately you see all the cracks, flaws, and imperfections. So, too, with each of us. If we stand next to the homeless, we may look pretty good; if we stand next to the Holy One of God, Jesus, we look pretty pathetic.

This, I think, is the proper light in which we should consider Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax-collector in the temple. The mistake of the Pharisee was to use the wrong metric of measurement. He compared himself to the tax collector, saying: “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.”

Gazing on the painting of his life by candlelight, the Pharisee felt pretty good about himself. The tax collector, on the other hand, did not raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast like we do at the beginning of Mass. Why? Because he used the right metric of measurement, the light of the Son of God in heaven.

And therefore, he immediately and clearly saw all his flaws and weaknesses. So we read: “He beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’” In other words, the tax collector gazed upon the painting of his life under the light of the noonday sun and saw matters clearly: we are all wretched sinners in need of mercy.

As you know, I work on the marriage tribunal with annulments. The final question after someone completes the long, probing and painful questionnaire is: “What have you learned from this annulment process?” It is an open-ended question and people can answer however they please. Some people write: “I learned that I married a jerk and I won’t do that again!”

But some petitioners humbly reply: “I learned that I was at fault for the failure of our marriage, too. And I hope I can learn from my mistakes and have a happier marriage to my next spouse.” Now who do you think the annulment process helped and who do you think it hardened? One petitioner used the right metric of measurement for his life and other was content to gaze upon the painting of his life by candlelight.

Praised be Jesus Christ!