Luke 18:1-17
Trinity 11
In the name of the Father and of the ✠ Son and of the Holy Spirit
If you want to understand a particular passage or story in Scripture, it is often very helpful to look at what comes before it and what comes after it–the context in which it is given. After all, the evangelists didn’t just write these things down randomly but under the guidance of the Holy Spirit; there is meaning to how it is all put together. And so in today’s Gospel reading, which centers on the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, I also included the parable of the persistent widow which precedes it and the blessing of the little children which follows it. For they all fit together in what they teach and proclaim.
There are two particular things that all three sections of today’s Gospel have in common. The first is that a just judgment is rendered; and the second is that those who receive this favorable judgment bring nothing to the table to merit it or earn it; they are all totally reliant on the favor of the judge.
In the first parable, the judge himself is unrighteous. He doesn’t care about people or his responsibility to God. He simply likes the power of his position and what he can get out of it for himself through bribes or by earning favors. So when a poor widow comes to him, who has nothing to bargain with, who doesn’t even have a son or brother or any other man willing to stand up for her, the judge is apathetic and dismissive of her. But the widow doesn’t give up. She keeps looking to the judge to do his job. And even though he is unrighteous, yet because she keeps on bothering him with her pleas, he finally acts on her behalf just to get rid of her. The widow is delivered from her adversary. She receives justice.
The point of the parable is clear: if an unrighteous judge can be motivated to do what is right through persistent pleading, how much more will the Lord, the righteous Judge, listen to your prayers and pleading and do what is good and right for His chosen, elect people? Your adversary, the devil, was defeated in the wilderness and his power crushed under the Lord’s bloody heel on the cross. So when you pray to the Father, “Deliver us from evil,” you can have absolute confidence and faith that you will be delivered from the evil one. God will give you justice, the very righteousness of Christ. Go ahead, then, and keep on bothering Him with your prayers. He is a righteous judge who loves to hear you and is already moved to help you even before you pray, because of His grace. He’s not annoyed by you. Don’t lose heart.
That is what then leads in to and sets up the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Jesus had concluded the first parable by saying, “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?” Now in this parable He more fully answers the question of what Christian faith truly is and what His justice is truly like. The way that you pray reveals your faith and whether it’s the kind that the Son of Man is looking for.
Two men went up into the temple to pray, with two very different kinds of faith. Both of them are looking for a judgment from God, a favorable ruling from the heavenly court. The Pharisee trusted in himself that he was righteous. His prayer laid out what he thought was convincing evidence. He fasted, he tithed, he lived an outwardly more godly life than most other people, especially folks like the tax collector. It seemed obvious to him that the Judge would rule in His favor.
It’s interesting that the Pharisee is described as praying by himself. Trusting in your own righteousness tends to isolate you like that and cut you off from others. It doesn’t lend itself well to worshiping as part of a group. You almost have to be by yourself since you’re comparing yourself to others and distinguishing yourself from them. I sometimes wonder if that’s one of the reasons why people don’t come to church. “The church is just full of hypocrites and bigots anyway. I’m thankful I’m not like them. I can be a good person on my own without church.” Sometimes the non-church-goer can be the most pharisaical of all.
But of course, Jesus’ parable is directed particularly at us. Aren’t we also tempted to trust in our own merits and good living as at least part of the reason why God should accept us? Aren’t we also tempted to think that God favors us because of our devotional practices, or because we give a hefty offering like we should, or because we’re not like those weird people pushing drag queen story hours? We, too, can have an improperly exalted view of ourselves. Let us repent of that and instead follow the words of Scripture, “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3).
That was certainly the approach of the tax collector in the Gospel. He stood far off not out of a sense of pride but of unworthiness. He wouldn’t even lift up his eyes to God, like children might stare at the ground when they know they’re guilty. He beats his chest because he hates what he has done and knows that he deserves to be convicted. There’s no evidence he can present to exonerate himself. And yet He hasn’t given up hope. He appeals to the mercy of the court, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” He stakes everything not on himself and his goodness but on God and His compassion. The tax collector’s faith is not directed within but outward to the Lord. He rests His case on the Lord’s grace and mercy.
And this is not just some generic mercy, either. The word the tax collector uses has to do with the sacrifices God instituted to atone for sin; it has to do with God’s wrath being turned away through the shedding of that blood. In other words, when the tax collector asks for mercy, he’s not just saying, “Hey, let me off the hook, please.” He’s saying “Let the sacrifice offered to you by Your priests here in Your holy temple be applied to me. Let it be a sufficient offering to turn away your righteous anger against my sin and to atone for it. I trust in your sacrificial mercy, and I put all my hope in Your promise of forgiveness.”
Just like the widow, the tax collector has nothing to use to bargain with God, His judge. Yet he doesn’t give up. He clings to the Lord’s mercy. He stakes everything on that, and He receives a favorable judgment. It’s not the full-of-pride Pharisee but the disreputable tax collector who goes down to His house justified, judged righteous.
And this is how it is also for you who know that you have no self-justifying case to make in heaven’s courtroom, who humble yourselves before the Lord, who repent and believe in Christ. “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” is also your prayer, asking that the Lord’s sacrifice be applied to you, too. For on the altar of the cross, Christ our Great High Priest shed His own blood to atone for your sins and the sins of the whole world. All of the temple sacrifices were pointing forward to that once-for-all event on Good Friday where your prayers were answered. God’s wrath is turned away from you; He is merciful to you, a sinner, in Jesus. And His mercy endures forever. You are released and entirely forgiven. Just as the blood of Abel the shepherd covered the ground, so the holy blood of Jesus the Good Shepherd covers you who are made of dust. By it you are justified, judged righteous, reconciled to God. As it is written, “You all, who once were far off (as the tax collector stood far off) have been brought near by the blood of Christ” (Ephesians 2:13). Now you can draw near to the altar. Now you can lift up your eyes and lift up your hearts to see that blood and that body of Christ, given and shed for you, applied to you and received by you for the forgiveness of sins. That’s the sort of worship that brings us together into a godly unity and fellowship.
And finally, lest anyone think that their humility or their faith or their perseverance is a good work of their own that earns God’s favor, we have the third part of today’s Gospel. The Lord also renders a just judgment here. He rebukes the adults who think only certain people are qualified to come into Christ’s presence, and He sides with the babies who have no meritorious qualifications at all. They don’t bring anything to the table, except maybe a wet diaper; they are utterly dependent. They are the ones who are blessed by Jesus! They are the ones judged fit for the kingdom of God. For they are the perfect picture of what faith is: being completely dependent on God, relying on Him for everything. It’s not that you have to be old enough and have achieved certain spiritual qualifications to get into God’s kingdom. It’s that you have to be young enough, with nothing but the capacity to be given to. For “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”
The tax collector was like an infant before God and was blessed. So it is that we are called to return to our baptism daily, to die to ourselves–to our sins and to our merits–and to rise to a new life in Christ. Through faith in Him we, too, are blessed.
It all fits together: the poor widow, the sinful tax collector, the helpless infant, and empty-handed you–all in the same situation before God; all completely dependent on the mercy of the Judge. And you are judged righteous in Christ. “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.”
In the name of the Father and of the ✠ Son and of the Holy Spirit
Art work, "Two Men Went Up to Pray" by Edward Riojas. Used with permission. Prints can be purchased here.