Jesus told a story about two men who went up to the Temple to pray. One was a good man, the other, a bad man. But at the end of the story, the bad man is the one who is our example.
LUKE 18:9-14: THE PARABLE OF THE PHARISEE AND THE TAX COLLECTOR
INTRODUCTION
Last week I read this in a book by one of my favorite authors (C. S. Lewis): “When Christianity does not make a man very much better, it makes him very much worse.”
We know that having God in my life should make me a better person than I would be otherwise. We expect that faith in Jesus Christ should make me more loving, kind, generous, more just.
But how could having God in my life make me worse?
Jesus told a parable about that in Luke 18:9-14
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:
“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.
The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.”
But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”
I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
I. Jesus didn’t go into detail about what these two men were like. The terms “Pharisee” and “tax collector” told his listeners all they needed to know about the character of these two men.
A. Historians tell us that the Pharisees were “good people.”
Our Pharisee was an asset to his community.
Pharisees was people who took their religion seriously. They didn’t just “talk the talk,” they “walked the walk.”
Pharisees loved their Bibles. They knew large portions of it by heart. And they tried hard to live by its principles.
Pharisees never missed church. (They called it synagogue.)
Pharisees held the correct beliefs.
Pharisees prayed every day and they prayed long.
Pharisees practiced self-denial.
Pharisees avoided the company of wicked people.
These are characteristics of good people.
When the Pharisee reminds God in his prayer that he fasts twice a week and that he gives away a tenth of his income he is just giving God a sample of the good things in his life.
Pharisees were admired by the people of the country.
We need to get out of our minds that the Pharisees were self-righteous prigs who went around alienating people by acting holier-than-thou.
No, Pharisees were looked up to. Mothers would be proud if their sons grew up to be Pharisees.
B. But what kind of people were the tax collectors?
In the Roman world they were called “publicans,” and that is the term we remember from our old Bibles.
Get out of your mind that the publicans were humble fellows who were comfortable to be around.
Publicans were tough guys who didn’t care what other people thought.
They made their living by helping the Romans oppress their fellow Jewish countrymen.
Publicans collected the hard-earned money of the Jews. Often they cheated them by asking for more than they really owed. The extra they kept for themselves. What they didn’t keep for themselves was sent to Rome to support the armies, build palaces for the emperor, and provide amusements for the idle population of Rome.
No one would have wanted to be a publican except that it was a good living. Publicans were wealthy. This publican in our story was probably wealthier than the Pharisee.
Publicans weren’t welcomed in the synagogues or at community gatherings.
They were on the same social level as prostitutes, adulterers, ex-convicts, and people who made no pretence of religion.
Their only friends were other tax collectors and rejects from society.
No mothers wanted their sons to grow up to be publicans.
II. Jesus calls our attention to is the prayer of each of these men.
A. The Pharisee’s prayer was all thanksgiving.
I see some good things in the Pharisee’s prayer.
He thanks God for the good work God has done in his life.
In his prayer he recognizes that he is what he is by the grace of God.
God has helped him overcome bad habits and discipline his life.
God has moved his heart to obedience and generosity.
The Pharisee sees himself as a fine fellow, and he gives the credit to God.
B. The publican’s prayer was all confession.
The Publican stood “far off,” in a corner somewhere.
He didn’t look up and stretch out his arms to heaven as was the custom in those days.
He is feeling so guilty that he knelt in his corner as he beat his chest and cried out, “God be merciful to me, a sinner!” The text implies that he continued saying this over and over: “God me merciful to me, a sinner! God be merciful to me, a sinner!”
He may have had many needs in his life, but his overwhelming need was to get right with God.
Jesus liked this man’s prayer and tells us that he went down to his house justified—which means forgiven, made clean, offered a new start—in fact, a new life.
We don’t know whether this publican’s repentance was deep or shallow, but we hope that this was a new life of obedience, faith, and love.
We don’t know whether he kept his occupation of tax collector, but if did he would have had to figure out a way to use his position to help people rather than cheat them.
C. So what was wrong with the Pharisee’s prayer?
What’s wrong comes right at the beginning, when he says, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people…”
His sin was measuring himself by looking down at people less good than he, rather than by looking up toward God and realizing how far short he fell of being what he ought to be.
Although he thought he was thanking God, he was really congratulating himself.
In his mind he was sitting up there, a little below his God but far above sinners like the publican. He is, as he says, “not like other men.”
The gospel writer gives us the key to the Pharisee’s problem at the beginning when he says, “Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others.”
Someone commented: “He had just enough religion to make him virtuous but not enough to make him humble.”
D. Why is the publican’s prayer accepted?
- because he admitted to his sin and need for mercy. He had a crushing sense of his own sinfulness.
- because he had given up on himself. Only God could help.
- because he knew he didn’t deserve anything from God.
- because he didn’t take it for granted that God is waiting for him to say the word, so that he can forgive him.
- because he knows that for forgiveness to happen, he has to ask for it.
APPLICATION
When I look at my heart I see a Pharisee lurking there.
God has forgiven me and given me a new life.
I rejoice in my salvation.
I read my Bible. I pray. I go to church. I give money. I live for God.
And then the devil sneaks these little thoughts into my mind: “See how far you’ve come.” “See how much better you are than other people.”
And I begin to notice the faults of other people. There is nothing that feeds my good opinion of myself as much as noticing the faults of other people.
That’s one reason we notice the faults of other people—it makes us feel so righteous.
But here is something I have noticed.
Everyone I know has faults. I notice them. I can’t help noticing them. They are so obvious.
Have you ever wondered why other people are so oblivious of their faults?
I say to myself, “Doesn’t he know how sharp his tongue is?”
“Doesn’t she realize that the very thing she is criticizing in her friend is the thing she is guilty of?”
Does that tell you something?
It tells me that, just as their faults are hidden from them, so many of mine must be hidden from me.
Have you ever wondered why people get so much pleasure out of discussing the faults of other people?
Can it be that noticing the faults of others helps us feel superior?
But God sees us, not as we wish we were, or as we think we are, but as we really are.
I suspect that if I could see myself as God sees me I would be so depressed.
It would be a revelation.
But I can see enough of my sin to cry out to God: “God be merciful to me, a sinner!”
I can say, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.”
Another hymn that does me good goes like this:
“Depth of mercy can there be,
mercy still reserved for me?
Can my Lord his wrath forbear;
me the chief of sinners spare?”
I think that I have in me both the Pharisee and the tax collector. And whenever I begin to trust in my righteousness and notice how much better I’ve become—and when I begin to notice the sins of other people, I remind myself that that feeling of superiority is a sin.
And I say again, “God be merciful to me, a sinner!”
I was drafted into the army and sent to Korea during that war.
One day I was digging a hole. We dug a lot of holes in Korea.
I was digging away in the hard ground when I hit something hard.
I thought it was a rock.
I kept banging on it and trying to dig it out, but suddenly I realized that it was an unexploded mortar round.
I very carefully covered it up and dug my hole in another place.
Suppose that mortar round could have spoken. It might have said, “Why are you afraid of me? I’ve never done anything to you.”
I could have answered, “It’s not what you’ve done. It’s what you’ve got inside you.”
That illustrates my heart—and maybe yours.
We look good on the outside—I hope we do.
But God knows our hearts.
That’s why we all need to pray the publican’s prayer: “God be merciful to me, a sinner!”
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