Before we read this morning’s Bible passage, let’s begin with a word of prayer:
O Sovereign Lord, I thankest thee that I am not like other pastors in your vast world, who are often absent-minded, careless, lazy, socially awkward, emotionally insecure, and spiritually out of touch; who preach boring sermons, pray confusing prayers, exhibit lackluster leadership, are never around when you need them, and who usually don’t know what the hell they are doing. I am so happy for how Thou hast made me a man after thine own heart and a great shepherd of my flock. I have maintained purity of thought, integrity in word, and cleanliness of deed so that I hitherto may be a model for my own church members and an inspiration to the whole community. I pray that this parish would fully appreciate the level of pastoral excellence they have received and that other pastors would take a page out of my book so that they may be a blessing rather than a burden to their own congregations.
Great Father in heaven, I am so thankful that you have called me to be the pastor of this church so that I may be an example of true godliness to these wayward people who habitually do the things that thou hast forbidden and hast forsaken thy commandments. I am indeed grateful for how thy hand hast given me patience to endure their spiritual stubbornness, monetary tightfistedness, and their perpetual stupidity. Even though they often act like sheep who go astray and turn to their own way, I am so glad that thou hast sent me to be their pastor and taskmaster to hereby whip their souls into shape so they will be prepared for the great judgment at thy second coming.
Whew! I feel so much better now! I have been wanting to get that prayer off my chest for a long time! Now let’s read the scripture from Luke 18:9-17.
Two Sinners at Prayer
As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he paused to address some arrogant attitudes in his midst. Now we don’t know if he was reprimanding the Pharisees, his disciples, or perhaps both, but Luke does tell us that there were some in his company “who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and treated other people with contempt.” Therefore, to nip this self-righteous egotism in the bud, he tells a parable about a Pharisee and a publican (or tax collector). It is a parable about two men, two prayers, and two destinies.
The first man is a high brow Pharisee, and it is certainly no surprise to see him praying in the temple. Pharisees were devoutly religious folk and they maintained the highest standards of moral conduct. They knew the Bible better than most people and they obeyed the Word of God down to the last detail. They quite literally lived according to the book. Even though these guys walked down the street with a stick sticking out of “you know what,” they were the good guys, and after all, good guys pray!
The second man is a low brow publican (not “Republican”, but a tax collector), and it is an utter shock to see him praying in the temple. A praying publican is a contradiction in terms—an oxymoron. In ancient Jewish, the were considered the scumbags of the earth. They sold out their own people by working for the oppressive Roman government. They were greedy and dishonest, and relied on extortion for their profit margin. My fiend Kent Hughs comments, “In today’s culture, the closest equivalent would be drug pushers and pimps, those who prey on society, who make their money off others’ bodies and make a living of stealing from others. Guys like this just weren’t no good and they certainly didn’t attend prayer meetings! (Ryken 256)
Even though Pharisees and publicans were uncommon company and the most unlikely of prayer partners, they happened to find themselves standing together in the temple, both looking to receive something from God—one seeking admiration, one seeking mercy.
And as we would expect, the Pharisee broke the silence first. He lifted his egotistical eyes to the Lord and prayed one of the most pompous prayer’s ever prayed: “God I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.” Now don’t misunderstand the content of the Pharisee’s prayer. Everything he said was accurate. Indeed, he was not like other men; he certainly was not like the tax collector. He lived a clean life, did his daily devotions, and faithfully gave ten percent of his income to God. The problem with his prayer was his pride. He forgot that he was a sinner!
Can you imagine how the publican felt after overhearing the Pharisee’s prayer? He already felt out of place in the temple and was uncomfortable with prayer, and then he gets singled out because of his sin. Well, as you can imagine, the publican stood off at a distance with his had hung low. His eyes carried so much guilt and his soul harbored so much shame that he couldn’t even look up. Instead, he beat his breast, and stuttered, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Contrary to the Pharisee, this tax collector knew that he was a sinner!
How about you? Do you know that you are a sinner or are you too busy thinking congratulatory thoughts about how good you are? Many people in our world today fall into the pharisaical pit of self-righteousness. Have you ever met someone who quotes their qualities and lists their accolades to the point that they forget that you are even part of the conversation? They are so self-centered and obnoxious that you don’t even want to be around them. Do you know anyone like that? Are you like that? As with the example of the Pharisee, have you ever stopped to count how many times you used the pronoun “I” in casual conversation, let alone your prayers?
This type of vanity and comparison is perfectly illustrated in Flanery O’Conner’s brilliant short-story Revelation. She exposes the heart of pride in America with her protagonist Ruby Turpin, a very self-absorbed, proud middle-class, Southern woman, who is always going around thanking Jesus that he has made her who she is, “a neat clean respectable white woman, and although she a bit overweight she has a good complexion and disposition.” Mrs. Turpin believes in social hierarchy and that she places herself, because she is white and a landowner, above other people, particularly black people and those she considers white trash. She prides herself on being a good Christian woman, but in reality she is nothing but a judgmental racist.
The story takes place in a waiting room at the doctor’s office, where Mrs. Turpin exalts her own qualities and denigrates everyone else in town, including others sitting right there in the room. This goes on until Mary Grace, a young college girl, is exasperated by the mannered hypocrisy which has surrounded her, throws a textbook at Mrs. Turpin, striking her in the head. She then rushes across the room and begins to choke Mrs. Turpin. Finally, subdued and sedated, she replies to Mrs. Turpin, “What have you got to say to me?” She says, “Go back to hell where you came from, you old wart hog.” This response strikes Mrs. Turpin with the force of another physical blow.
Towards the end of the story, Mrs. Turpin has a vision (or revelation) where can see ‘whole communities of white-trash, clean for the first time in their lives, and bands of black Negro’s in white robes, and battalions of freaks and lunatics shouting and clapping and leaping like frogs,’ on their way to heaven. Behind them Mrs. Turpin sees ‘a tribe of people whom she recognized at once as those who, like herself and her husband, had always had a little of everything and the God-given wit to use it right.’ The order of the people in the procession is important because for the first time Mrs. Turpin can see that her own hierarchical belief has been wrong.
Do you ever play the comparison game with other people? Do you ever look down on other people and think that you are better than them? I know that you would never say it, but do you ever think to yourself, “I sure am glad that I am not like those people—living in and out of jail, addicted to pills, leeching off the government, neglecting their children, and taking advantage of other people?
The truth is that we are all sinners! We have all fallen desperately short of God’s glory! We have all done devilish deeds, whispered wicked words, and entertained evil thoughts in our minds. And even if our outward actions are better than others, our hearts are just as corrupt. None of us has lived a perfect life! And none of us has the right to think that we are better than anyone else!
Humbled and Exalted (14)
Notice Jesus’ haunting conclusion to the parable: “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God.” He endorses the tax collector’s humility. The one justified before God, the one whose prayer is heard, is not that of the religious man with all of his works. The prayer God hears is the cry for mercy.
Jesus clinches this lesson with a provocative proverb: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Confidence and outward appearance mean nothing. Resume and social status mean nothing. Self-reliance is a highway to hell! What counts is a heart humbled before God. And in seeking God’s forgiveness, the tax collector found it!
In considering this proverb, we would do well to remember the words of the church father St. Basil the Great, who said, “Humility often saves a sinner who has committed terrible transgressions.”
Our approach to God in this life has eternal consequences. The person who puts their trust in themselves—their character, credentials, reputation, intellect, abilities, money, or their accomplishments—will not be justified before God. None of these things can atone for sin. So many people still believe that when they die they will go to heaven because they were a good person. They still believe that good people go to heaven and bad people go to hell, but this is dead wrong! We can only go to heaven by recognizing how sinful we are and receiving God’s mercy through Jesus’ death on the cross!
So, when you come before God, what are you asking for? Do you know how bad you are, and how much mercy you need? The tax collector knew that he was a sinner who deserved nothing except God’s judgment, and this compelled him to seek for a salvation that only God could give, and only by his grace. Our sin should never cause us to despair, for when we know the depth of our own depravity that we are ready to see the atonement that God offers for our sin. After all, Jesus was journeying to the cross to die for sinners like us! (Ryken 261)
Allow me to conclude with Isaac Watt’s powerful hymn about this parable. It is called “Behold How Sinners Disagree.”
Behold how sinners disagree,
The publican and Pharisee!
One doth his righteousness proclaim,
The other owns his guilt and shame.
This man at humble distance stands,
And cries for grace with lifted hands;
That boldly rises near the throne,
And talks of duties he has done.
The Lord their different language knows,
And different answers He bestows;
The humble soul with grace He crowns,
Whilst on the proud His anger frowns.
Dear Father! let me never be
Joined with the boasting Pharisee;
I have no merits of my own,
But plead the sufferings of Thy Son.