Sermon on Luke 18:9-14, for the 11th Sunday after Trinity (1 Yr lectionary), "Give me a pedestal, or bring me to my knees?"

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. Today’s parable may be familiar: the Pharisee and the tax collector. Two men are praying to God in the Temple. They stand up before God and before men. But with two very different attitudes and  outcomes.

Jesus approves the tax collector with this phrase: “I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Jesus approves the tax collector with the word “justified.” That’s God’s verdict—God has declared you innocent; righteous in His eyes—justified. The other possible verdict is “condemned”—God declares you guilty, or unrighteous in His eyes. Justified or condemned, innocent or guilty—these are the two opposite verdicts. The surprise is that Jesus doesn’t justify the man who appears better, more law-abiding, and religious—namely, the Pharisee. But instead, the tax collector, a despised sinner, whose job was identified with crooks—the one who to all the world looks guilty—he goes home justified.

Justified is where we want to be also. That’s the verdict we should want from Jesus. The Pharisee shows us how not to get there. He was the example of those who trusted in their own righteousness. If you trust in your own righteousness, essentially it means that you are trying to pass your own verdict. No matter how a defendant in court pleads their own innocence, that cannot overrule the judge’s verdict. But we still try to play defendant and judge at the same time, and claim that our judgment of ourselves is better than God’s. Whatever tricks we may play, no one can push God out of the judgment seat or avoid His justice. We have to play by His rules. His Law, His court.

But then do we fear the courts of the Lord’s house? No, this parable shows we can approach His judgment seat, (or use the new name given it by the book of Hebrews) the “throne of grace” (Hebrews 4:16). We can approach God’s throne of grace “with confidence”.

But the Pharisee had the wrong kind of confidence. His confidence was in himself. He thought he saw a pretty impressive man in the mirror, which also meant that he was stepping up on a pedestal, to look down on everyone else. When he looked at his fellow man, he did not see his equals, or men and women made in God’s image, or even people struggling with the same sins and failures as himself—he only saw the misery and failure and wickedness of others, and “Thank God I have no part in that!” “Thank God I’m not like them!” What a thing to thank God for! He might as well have said: “Thank God that I’m God’s gift to man”.

We’re all inclined to same sort of thing. And the thing is, you don’t have to be wealthy, powerful, or religious to step on that pedestal. Anyone can and will attempt it, to find their own good reasons to trust in themselves, and treat others with contempt. Ironically judgmentalism is an equal opportunity employer. Anyone can wear the suit, and stand on the pedestal—and the number of reasons for why we think we’re better than others, is endless. All that we need, is some difference between ourselves and others—real or perceived—and we step up on that pedestal and declare our superiority. It’s hard not to step on that pedestal. It’s hard to be humble, and to refuse to step on it. In fact, one  of the easiest ways to step into that trap is for our prayer to become: “Thank God I’m not like that nasty Pharisee, or those priggish hypocrites.” And quick as you like, we’ve become the very thing we’ve despised.

They tell stories about one of my uncles who would go around saying: “Humble?!? I’m the humblest man in the world!!” And of course the humor of that and the truth of the matter is that even humility can be pretended, to pass yourself as better than others. We want people to praise and affirm us, and so the temptation is to find one way or another to get on a pedestal. In religious circles, false humility might get attention. But even showy deeds, like the Pharisee’s brag about his giving, can boost you up in some circles. In societal circles, the flashy car, biggest salary, or biggest boasts might get you the attention. Right now there’s a bizarre status structure based on how victimized a person or group thinks they are. The more you can position yourself as being the one who is oppressed, the more right you have to be judgmental and superior, without feeling guilty for judgmentalism. The point is, our sinful human nature can twist and pivot and slither a thousand ways till Sunday to give ourselves the permission to feel that we are above all the rest, or that we deserve to be on that pedestal.

So what is our prayer to God going to be? “Give me that pedestal?” Of course everything would be ok if God would just approve how hard we have worked, or how good we are, or how much we have been put upon by everyone else. All God has to do is agree with our own judgment, and we’ll have the satisfaction of His approval, which is really just an echo of ours. That’s the miserable slog and lie of self-righteousness, of trusting in ourselves. We can hide it deep under a mask of false humility and religiosity, or wear it brash and rude on our sleeves, but it still stinks the same. God has to dash and humble this kind of arrogance if we dare to come this way before God’s throne.

But look at the tax collector. Rather than asking for God to give me a pedestal, we should be asking God, like he did—bring me to my knees. Listen how one prayer does it. On pg. 292 in our hymnal (LSB), there is a short form of private confession, if a person wants to confess their sins before the pastor to receive personal absolution. It reads like this:

I, a poor sinner, plead guilty before God of all sins. I have lived as if God did not matter and as if I mattered most. My Lord’s name I have not honored as I should; my worship and prayers have faltered. I have not let His love have its way with me, and so my love for others has failed. There are those whom I have hurt, and those whom I have failed to help. My thoughts and desires have been soiled with sin. What troubles me particularly is that… and the person may then name the sins that weigh on their hearts.

Like the tax collector’s, this prayer finds no one else to blame; makes no excuses for our sin, but recognizes we stand guilty before God. To approach the throne of grace with confidence,  we must only have a confidence in God’s mercy. The humble confidence that cries out: “God be merciful to me, a sinner!

This humble confidence trusts not in ourselves, but in God who has mercy. It’s a confidence based on the character of God, that He has mercy on those who seek Him. Trusting in His mercy, tax collectors or sinners like you and I—guilty before God of all sins—find an open welcome from God, when we turn from our sin and come follow Him.

Jesus’ mercy is first shown to us in untying those burdens. I have lived as if God did not matter, and as if I mattered most. Jesus draws that poisoned selfishness out of us, and gives us a new heart, beating with the rhythm of “God matters most”, and the desire to live for and serve others. My Lord’s name I have not honored as I should; my worship and prayers have faltered. Jesus takes our defiled tongue, and cleanses and renews it to give praise to Him, to speak blessing to others, and fill our mouths with prayer. I have not let His love have its way with me, and so my love for others has failed. To the humbled heart, to the heart that wants to go home justified by God, not by ourselves and our flimsy self-righteousness—to this heart, Jesus enters in and makes a home. Lord, have mercy and let your love have its way with me! Let your love wash me over and make me clean again! There are those whom I have hurt, and those whom I have failed to help. Again Lord, help me to reconcile and repair those wounds that I have caused. Help me to take responsibility, and Jesus, open my eyes to those whom I need to help!

So Jesus’ mercy is first seen in untying these burdens, laid down in repentance. But secondly, His mercy shines in granting us that verdict of “justified”. We never deserved it. This verdict is that God transfers the righteousness of His Son Jesus, onto you—so that you can stand before His throne of grace with confidence. As a washed, forgiven, loved child of God. Sent joyfully home with the word “justified” stamped over your name. Approved by God, not for what you have done, but for the sake of what Jesus has done for us. This is the mercy of God that the tax collector received, when he humbly prayed: “God have mercy on me, a sinner”.

We began by noticing that these two men—the Pharisee and tax collector, both stood before God and before men. We too, stand in relation to God, and to each other. How will we stand? On a pedestal? Treating others with contempt? Do we give our stamp of approval to ourselves, and expect God to echo it? Or does the Holy Spirit bring you to your knees? Block the sins of others out from your sight—you’re not being judged in relation to them anyway—and make confession of your own sin to God. The only way to God’s approval, to God’s verdict of “justified”—is the humbling of the Holy Spirit, and throwing all your trust on God. You’ve heard me describe faith this way before. Faith is “honesty about dependence” on God. Trusting in yourself, that you are righteous, ala the Pharisee—is a dishonesty about yourself and your dependence.

Not only is our relationship with God transformed when He creates faith in us, or this honesty about dependence on Him. But our relationship with others is transformed as well! We don’t have to be in the constant and pointless game of jockeying for position, trying to determine who’s better, who’s more deserving, what’s fair or unfair, or promoting ourselves as superior in any way. If we’re honest about dependence on God, we can give up that whole silly exercise, and get back to seeing each other as sheep for whom Christ died. Children loved by their heavenly Father, whether they’re in the sheepfold already, or still needing to be sought and found. We can live as the justified do—to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8). Only Jesus can keep us humbly on that path, and fill us with His thankfulness and joy. In His Name, Amen.

Sermon Talking Points

Read sermons at:   http://thejoshuavictortheory.blogspot.com

Listen: search your podcast app for “The Joshua Victor Theory” or

listen online at http://thejoshuavictortheory.podbean.com

1.      Read Luke 18:9-14. In their own eyes, and the eyes of others, how did these two men stand before others (i.e. what would people have thought of them)? How did they stand before God? Cf Luke 18:9; 16:15.

2.      What does the verdict “justified” mean? What is it’s opposite? Why can’t we pass our own verdict, or have God echo ours? Romans 3:10-23. Who is God? Genesis 18:25; Hebrews 12:23.

3.      Why can we approach the “throne of grace” with confidence? Hebrews 4:16? What is the wrong kind of confidence to bring with you? How do we fall into this trap? What pedestals do we make for ourselves?

4.      Look at the prayer of individual confession, on pg. 292. When we confess our sins before God, why is it important to follow the tax collector’s template, or this template, in excluding all other people and their sins from the conversation? What relationship is this prayer focused on? How did the tax collector find mercy?

5.      How does Jesus show His mercy to us through repentance? Romans 2:4. How does Jesus cleanse our sin, and give us a new spirit?

6.      How does Jesus show His mercy by this (undeserved) verdict of innocence (being justified)?

7.      Consider the definition “honesty about dependence” as a description of faith. How does it explain the actions of the two men? How does true honesty about dependence change our relationships, both toward God and toward our fellow people?