The Refreshing Water of Humility - Homily for the Sunday of the Publican and Pharisee (2026)
There’s a story from the ancient Church, either in the era of the Desert Fathers or perhaps shortly after of a woman who was the only survivor of a shipwreck. Marooned on an island alone for decades, she lived a life of asceticism, a life of prayer dedicated to God. Finally, however, she was discovered, she was rescued and brought back to civilization. Once back, she sought out a God-bearing elder to inquire about her life and her accomplishments, to see what she attained to.
After hearing her story, he only had one question for her. “Do you accept reproaches and insults as a cup of refreshing water?” She answered, “No”. “Then you accomplished nothing” was his short reply. You accomplished nothing. How devastating to live a harsh and difficult life in dedication to God and to bear no fruit! What a tragedy!
This is an important lesson for us as we approach the beginning of Lent. This woman lived a whole life of Lent. And yet, in the end, she missed the point. She never acquired humility; she did not have the inner disposition of the publican in today’s Gospel.
What does it mean to be like the publican? What does it mean to see oneself as a sinner? It is not merely an intellectual assent to the notion that we commit this or that sin. That’s not enough because that is only in our heads. The Fathers tell us the criterion for whether or not we really consider ourselves to be sinners, the criterion for whether or not we are truly like the publican, is if we accept humiliations, if we accept trials that come to us as deserved for our sins. Fr. Thomas Hopko of blessed memory says very simply that we can’t have humility without undergoing humiliations. It’s inherently painful to be humbled because it requires our death. It requires the death of the old man. Relentlessly.
Perhaps the most important element in comparing the Pharisee and the Publican is the revelation of their inner disposition in regard to others. It almost goes unnoticed, but when the pharisee says, “I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican” (Luke 18:11), some Fathers say that the Pharisee is actually hurling all these accusations on the publican—that the publican must also be an extortioner, unjust and an adulterer. Besides showing one symptom of being a pharisee is to imagine sins where they are not, this also shows the humility that the publican had but the woman shipwrecked for decades did not. The publican was not offended at the reproaches of the Pharisee. He did not defend himself against those charges by saying “I may be a publican, but I only take what is due”. Nor, “I may be a despicable publican, but I’m faithful to my wife”. He only confessed himself as a sinner and looked to God to have mercy on him.
The only criterion for Lent is whether we will humble ourselves. And we can see very clearly whether we humble ourselves in our response to the trials that come upon us, especially any negative interaction we have with another.
It’s not uncommon to hear people complain about their problems with others. I’m at a loss especially when it’s from monastics because Abba Dorotheos tells us so clearly why we don’t have peace in our relations with others. Abba Dorotheos, whose book is the very first book we’re required to read in order to be here and who we read every single Lent, tells us very clearly the solution to our problems with other people.
Our problems with other people do not exist because the novices, younger siblings, the new co-workers, etc don’t follow the rules, because they talk back and are argumentative. Our problems do not exist because our co-workers, our fellow monks stick their noses in places they don’t belong and make our work and lives more burdensome with their unasked-for opinions and mis-guided directives. Our problems do not exist because some senior monk pushes us around, treats us poorly, or fails to help us.
Abba Dorotheos tells us that our problems with other people, the breakdown in our relationships we encounter, the reason we do not have peace with others is very simply because we refuse to reproach ourselves. We refuse to accept fault in problems and confrontations with others. That’s the only reason we don’t have peace with others. The only reason. How often we forget the common denominator in all our problems is us! Until we reproach ourselves and try to find ways that we caused the breakdown, that we contributed to the problem, we will always be fighting our brothers, our siblings, our superiors, our parents, if not in reality than certainly in our heads. We will find ourselves hurling accusations against them and unwittingly become like the Pharisee.
If we reproach ourselves, we will see the reason juniors don’t follow the rules, the reason they don’t respect us and talk back is because they don’t see us as models for the correct behavior. They hear the rude remarks we say about others and worse, to others. They see us when we’re stubborn and refuse to yield. They know the exceptions we allow for ourselves. If other monks are causing us problems with unasked for opinions, perhaps had we been more diligent in our work, they wouldn’t have noticed anything out of hand. If nothing else, again Abba Dorotheos tells us he’d rather do something according to someone else’s will even if it should fail than to do it according to his own ideas and for it to succeed. This is how much weight he puts on humility. If we are offended at the behavior of seniors, if we are insulted by his words, let us remember that it was the pharisees who were constantly offended at other people (including Christ), often seeing sins where there were none. On the contrary, it was the publican who did not look at the sins of the Pharisee who slandered him. He was not offended at his self-righteous behavior.
St. Joseph the Hesychast, in one of his letters, writes, “when you get accustomed to saying, “Forgive me!” to everyone, and in everything reproach yourself and never demand justice…then you will soon taste the fruits of humility." We will find that the fruit of humility does in fact taste better than the gall of bitterness and indignation we are used to drinking whenever we reproach others and demand that they change.
So when someone talks back to us, corrects us, insults us, ignores us, makes us do his work. When someone does something he shouldn’t do or doesn’t do something he should do, let us take a step back. Let us see these trials and injustices in light of all the terrible things we’ve done and gotten away with. All the people we’ve hurt that we can’t possibly make up for anymore. All the times we’ve returned to our own vomit after supposedly repenting. If we can do this, if we can see ourselves as sinners in this way, by accepting these trials as due reward for our sins, than we can actually be healed. God will actually give us peace. St. John Climacus tells us “you will not labor many years in search of blessed peace if in the beginning you surrender your soul to indignation” (4.65). End Quote. We will know in our own hearts that the truth that “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble” is actually a spiritual law. Peace is the outcome of letting our old man die.
This is the true goal and end of our spiritual life, inside or outside of Lent. If we can see ourselves as sinners in this way—not by mere acknowledgement of wrongdoing, but by patiently enduring whatever trials God sends, then we will be able to greet our risen Savior with great joy on Pascha. Amen.
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