Trinity 11, 2024
Rev. Thomas Van Hemert
St. Luke 18:9-14
Trinity 11
August 11, 2024
In the name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Humility is a mark of a repentant sinner. Pride, on the other hand, is one of our favorite pet sins. We love to be loved by others—to be respected; to be praised. We love to receive instant gratification and recognition for our success in our jobs and in our lives. We love to be seen and viewed as more important than we really are.
Pride is a deception that by which, we believe we ourselves are the ones who ought to receive praise and admiration because of what we have done and who we claim to be. Look at how good we’re doing and how well off we are. We do this most often because we love to show off our latest accomplishments. We love to let others know that we ourselves are the sources of all the good that happens to us. We worked hard, we are fortunate. Good things happen to us and we love to let others know just how good we think we really are.
In an effort to prop ourselves up, we establish idols, like the deep, hidden desire to receive praise. Yet, we often times forget that the goodness that happens to us, our successes, and our good fortune, are given to us by God. He is the source of every good thing that happens to us. If there is praise to be given, give it where it belongs: to God.
In our pride, we often times succumb to the dangers of false comfort. Who of us has never compared himself to another? In placing ourselves next to another it is easy to say, “I am pretty well off, unlike that guy. I have more possessions, am bothered by less things than this guy. Because of this we might be prone to say or think, “Certainly, God loves me more than others.” And in this, in our pride, we may have even thanked God that our sins don’t affect us as much as others—that we aren’t bothered by the fact that we are poor miserable sinners. How easily it is to fall into this lovely sin of pride.
So it is with the Pharisee. He loves God. He does. In fact, he already has everything he desires. He himself claims to be different from other men; better than other men. He himself is no extortioner. He is not unjust. He is not an adulterer. He is not even like the tax collector. In his eyes, God loves him more than this tax collector.
The Pharisee loves God so much that, if you notice, in his prayer, he doesn’t even ask anything from God. He does this, of course, because he believes he has everything that he will ever need. He has no desire for God’s mercy, for his love, or for his forgiveness. Why should he need these things? He is already a good, religious man. Just look at how good, how perfect, how godly he is: the Law says that you must fast once a week. The Pharisee fasts twice per week. The Law says you must tithe only certain things. But not the Pharisee! No, he is much better than that! The Pharisee gives some of everything he gets, not only the certain things required by the Law. In his eyes, he is much more righteous than that sinful tax collector.
But the Pharisee has forgotten one thing. He has forgotten that keeping the Law does not make someone righteous before God. For it is by grace all have been saved and not works, so that no one may boast. But in his pride, the Pharisee does nothing but boast. His works are important to him. And in his pride, he is forced to compare himself to this lowly tax collector.
Now who is this tax collector? Why is he compared to the Pharisee? It is quite obvious. In the eyes of the world, the Pharisee is a truly righteous man. Look at all the good things he does. Surely the Pharisee is a man of whom we are to imitate. Right?
The tax collector on the other hand, in the eyes of the world, was a traitor. He was a Jew who had become unclean because he took up employment with the Roman government. He was unclean because he worked for outsiders. His job was to gather taxes from his own people for the Roman government. He did that and more. If the Romans said he needed to collect $100 this week, he could force people to pay $400 and he would get to keep the extra $300. And sometimes, he may even resolve to violence to get it.
This man, this tax collector is truly an extortioner. He is a cheat. He is unjust. Perhaps somehow, the Pharisee also knew that this man was an adulterer. Maybe he was. The point is this man, this tax collector is truly a sinful man. He is unworthy of the righteousness that the Pharisee naïvely believes he himself has attained and he wants everyone to know it. That’s why the Pharisee compares himself to this tax collector. He is prideful.
Though God’s Law is good, it accuses everyone who has not kept it and fulfilled its demands perfectly. The Law shows us our sin. The Law cannot help us attain righteousness. Because we sin, because the Law cannot help us in gaining eternal life, we need something else.
We need mercy. And the tax collector knows this. This is why he prays the way he does. He knows that no good dwells in him, that is, in his flesh. His sin is too great. It is always around his neck further pulling him back down into depression and despair. He cannot even look up to heaven when he prays because of his shame. His family hates him because of his occupation; his friends have all abandoned him. He is a social pariah. His sin is out there in the open for everyone to see and he prays nonetheless. And his prayer is a truly profound prayer.
The tax collector knows that he is sinful. He has not kept the Law. So it is that his prayer reflects his attitude and his spiritual status. His prayer reflects where he stands before God: he is a sinner.
He also knows that he needs something from God. He needs mercy. He needs compassion and forgiveness shown to him though it is within God’s just authority to punish him. So he begs, he pleads, he prays for mercy, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” Humility is the mark of a repentant sinner. The tax collector’s humility is on full display. He is repentant.
The truth about humility is that it’s more difficult to confess one’s sins than one’s righteousness. Sinners must confess their sins in order to receive mercy and forgiveness. Confessing sins is like applying bactine to a fresh wound. It stings at first. It’s hard. It hurts. The wound throbs with pain. But then the healing begins. The wound is cleaned and cleansed. And so it is with confession and absolution. The sins are confessed, and then the cleansing of the Gospel, the healing medicine of Christ’s absolution is applied. “Your sins are forgiven. Go and sin no more,” says Jesus.
Now, those who are righteous in the eyes of the world, that is, those believe themselves to be righteous, blameless, and sinless on account of their works—those who do many good things and who love the fact that other hear about what they have done—these ones, have no need for mercy. Jesus says that those who are well have no need of a physician, no need of the medicine of repentance and absolution—no need of God’s mercy. So it is that when the Pharisee prays, he has no need of the things of God. He can go without. And unfortunately, he also doesn’t understand why others might need the things of God.
The tax collector, on the other hand, solely depends on God to show him mercy, to make things right, to forgive his sins, and cleanse him from all unrighteousness. He can’t make things right on his own. He can’t forgive his sins on his own, or cleanse himself. That’s why he needs to be shown mercy from God.
When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we do not pray, “Forgive them their trespasses.” We don’t bring up the sins of others in a passive aggressive attempt to show that we ourselves are without sin like the Pharisee. When we pray, we pray like the tax collector, “Forgive us our trespasses.” Our prayer is the tax collector’s prayer, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
Do you have flesh and blood? Then you are a sinner. It’s an especially dangerous situation for you to be in if you think otherwise. If St. Paul, an Apostle of God, says that no good dwells in him, that is, in his flesh, then you cannot possibly be more holy than he is. Each and every one of us must humble ourselves before the Lord of whose Law we have failed to keep. Do not let pride get in the way of receiving mercy from God.
The parable that Jesus tells teaches and encourages us to be like the tax collector, rather than the Pharisee. We aren’t to be like the Pharisee in comparing ourselves to others that we see throughout the week or here on Sunday morning. We aren’t called upon to confess the sins of others. We are called to confess our own individual sins. Each and every one of us is a sinner who is in dire need of God’s mercy. So Jesus tells this parable to us because His desire is to have all come to repentance, like the tax collector. Jesus’ desire is that all people come to realize that they are poor miserable sinners who have sinned against God in thought, word, and deed.
Thus, there is a great need for us to set aside our pride and all that is vanity to realize that we are grave sinners in need of God’s mercy. The inappropriate response to this call to repentance is certainly not like that of the Pharisee, “Well, you know God, I’m just so thankful that I’m not like other people. I’m thankful that I am not like those sinners who come near to the foot of the cross in order to receive mercy. I’m so thankful that I don’t need Your consoling Supper as others do.” Do we really sin less than our neighbor? Do we really not need God’s forgiveness as much as others?
If that is the case, if that is your mindset, then repent. The appropriate response to hearing this parable is to realize that no one—not one person—has kept God’s Law perfectly. Even the Pharisee, who was a sinner, kept the Law better than you and me. Yet, he was still a sinner. The unfortunate thing is that he didn’t realize it. He didn’t want to realize it. He had no need for God. So he went home unjustified—without forgiveness. The appropriate response is to pray and plead before God, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Beat down your pride before God. God does not desire our works, for they are like filthy rags. God desires not the death of a sinner but that each and every person be justified. His desire is to show us mercy. He is a merciful and loving God.
Those who come to God confessing their sins, always go home justified. Sinners humble themselves before God. They realize that they need what he has to give. God draws people to the foot of the cross where Jesus became sin for us. He became sin though he knew no sin but yet, his Father’s anger was kindled against Him and his wrath was poured out on Him so that those who come to the foot of the cross might be sprinkled with the blood of Christ and washed clean of their sins.
And so the medicine of pride is repentance born from humility. Those who repent of their sins, those who are humble and confess what they have done wrong, always receive absolution from God. This absolution is given through the Office of the Pastor. But yet it is just as valid and certain, even in heaven, as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself. God desires not the death of the sinner but that each turn from his ways and live. Humility is the mark of a repentant sinner. Sinners who desire mercy go down to their houses with righteousness—they go down to their houses justified.
In +Jesus’ name.
