Luke 18:9-14 "Pride"
When I first meet someone, I want them to like me. I act like I don’t care what people think but that’s just part of the cool image I project. I want people to think I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m awesome! It’s kind of pathetic. It probably comes from being the middle child in a blended family where I wanted attention and wanted to stand out.
But I’m not just this way with people, I’m the same way with God. I want to impress Him with how good I am, how much of the Bible I know, and how dang clever I can be when I talk about it. I want Him to think I’m one of the good ones.
I know He likes humility, so one of the things I do to impress Him is what I’m doing right now. Lead with vulnerability. Admit all the dark secrets of my heart. I know some people are afraid to do that, afraid to be vulnerable in front of other people—this is just one of the many ways that I’m better than them. God loves humble people like me a lot more. Ha.
I don’t think I’m the only one who does these kinds of things. Most of us have some version of “I want to be liked, so I act a certain way, dress a certain way”—and most of us are a little goofy about it.
We all want people to think we’re the good guy. Even the bad guy usually justifies themselves and think they’re not that bad. They can always think of someone worse than they are.
Today we’re continuing in the Gospel of Luke, going line by line, we’re in chapter 18, starting at…
VERSE 9:
To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: Luke 18:9
Just like the last one, Luke tells us up front what the parable is going to be about. This is the same setting as verses one through eight where He taught them about how to pray like an annoying old woman. This is also going to be about prayer but instead of asking for justice, this one is asking for mercy.
Who do you know that seems confident in how freaking good they are? Can you think of anyone? Like, maybe someone who thinks they’re better than other people because they believe in good old traditional American values? Or, maybe someone who thinks they’re better than other people because they go to church? Or they’re better than all those other people at church because they do all the work and show up more often and give more money—they’re better than other people because they’re more faithful, know more Bible stuff. Or maybe you thought of someone who has a ‘holier than thou” attitude, someone who Jesus jukes people all the time. Do you know what a Jesus juke is?
It’s like when you tell someone about a new favorite TV show and they say, “Oh, I’ve never seen it. I don’t watch TV. Ever since I stopped, I have so much more time to pray and read my Bible.” That’s a Jesus Juke.
They try to make themselves look better by making other people seem less spiritual than they are. It’s not good. Spiritual pride is an oxymoron.
Here’s the parable:
VERSE 9:
“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’
Luke 18:9-11
We need to understand the story setup. Jesus basically said, “Two men went up to the temple to pray—a good guy and a bad guy.” We’re so used to the Pharisees being the enemy of Jesus, we might not notice what He’s actually saying here.
They would have thought of the Pharisees as the good guys. They ran the synagogues. They knew the Bible. They were the rabbis, the teachers, the preachers—the pastors. The Pharisees didn’t like Jesus but that’s because they thought He was ruining everything they had worked so hard to build in their ministry. This is the only parable where Jesus uses the word Pharisee.
And no one was more of a bad guy than a tax collector. This wasn’t just an IRS agent doing their job. This was a traitor to their own people. It was a Jew who went native in Rome and helped extract every penny from other Jews—making themselves rich in the process by taking more than the Romans demanded.
The way the original audience would have heard this story, it might have sounded more like, “Two men went to church to pray, one was an American war hero that everyone loved, and the other was a known war criminal and spy—who got away with it—a traitor who made his fortune by selling out his own countrymen—and everyone knew it and everyone hated him.
Two men went to the temple to pray, a good guy and a bad guy.
So, the good guy stood up in front where everyone could see him and prayed nice and loud so everyone could hear him, “God, thank You so much…”
And if he would have stopped there, that would have been a fine prayer—but he had a lot more to say.
“...God, I am so thankful that I’m not like those other disgusting people. People who steal, do wicked things, cheat on their spouse, have sex outside of marriage.”
Then he looks around and sees someone who does even more despicable than those things—a textbook example of a bad guy—a tax collector. “Thank You, God, that I’m not like this tax collector!” Says it so the guy can hear him. Makes him feel pretty good about himself. Then he reminds God of some reasons why he’s such a great guy, he fasts twice a week and always gives a tenth of everything he gets in worship. He’s thinking, “I’ll bet God wishes He had more people like me!”
He mentions himself in the prayer five times. He’s quite the me-monster. “Who’s awesome and has two thumbs? This guy!”
VERSE 13:
“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ Luke 18:13
The tax collector knows he’s the bad guy. He doesn’t even feel worthy to be in the temple—stands in the back corner. Won’t look up, he’s too ashamed of his sin. Beats himself on his chest to show how sorry he is for everything he’s done. He doesn’t try to justify his sins. Most people would. Most people would be like, “Lord, You know I only became a tax collector because I needed the money to pay for little Timmy’s surgery. I’m not a bad person. I’m going to quit exploiting people as soon as the medical bills are paid off. I know You understand, Lord.” No, he doesn’t make excuses. He doesn’t compare himself to other people, he compares himself to God’s standard. The Law. He’s wrong and he knows it. So he just says, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Actually, in the Greek it doesn’t say “a” sinner, it says “the” sinner. He’s not looking for safety in numbers—he’s not looking around the room for other tax collectors to make himself feel better. He prays like he’s the only one in the room who’s ever sinned.
We can call this “the sinner's prayer” if we want to. Like it says in Psalm 51,
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!” Psalm 51:1-2
He asks for mercy, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” But it’s a lot deeper than that. This is actually the whole Gospel right there—hidden in plain sight.
Let’s nerd-out a little.
There’s a really good possibility this parable takes place on the Day of Atonement. These two men went to pray, not on just any day, but on the Day of Atonement. There’s a few good reasons to think this. The Day of Atonement only happened once a year. It’s the one day a year that Jews were commanded to fast—probably why the Pharisee brought up how much he fasted—a lot more than all these posers who only fast once a year. Also, it was a day of communal prayer at the temple, every Jewish man was required to show up and pray—probably why a Pharisee and a tax collector would be there at the same time. The Day of Atonement was the most important day at the temple—it was the one day a year when a sacrifice was made to atone for the sins of the people. It was the only day of the year the high priest went into the Holy of Holies, the only day the blood of a sacrificed animal was sprinkled on the mercy seat of the Ark of the Covenant to make atonement for the sin of the people. But the biggest clue that the story takes place on the Day of Atonement is the actual word the tax collector said when he said, “God, have MERCY on me, the sinner.” The word used for mercy there is hilaskŏmai (hil-as´-kom-ahee) which is better translated as “atonement” or “propitiation” because it means to cover, pardon—make right by means of sacrificial reconciliation. So yeah, mercy, but a particular kind of mercy that only comes from a sacrifice that makes a person right with God. This particular word is only used in one other place in the New Testament. In Hebrews 2:17, where the sacrifice Jesus made for us on the cross is being compared to the Day of Atonement and we’re told God will never require another sacrifice—Jesus was the final propitiation for the sins of the people— that Jesus identified with his people as their high priest,
“Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.” Hebrews 2:17
The same root word, hilaskŏmai (hil-as´-kom-ahee), was used over 90 times in the Old Testament, always having to do with ritualistic sacrifices to make things right with God.
So, why does any of that matter? If this parable takes place at the temple on the Day of Atonement. then these two men showed up at the temple with a bunch of other people to pray while the High Priest made a sacrifice for the sins of the people—they came to have their sins atoned—to be pardoned.
But the Pharisee looked at himself, thought about how good he was, how faithful he was—compared himself to other people and thought, “I’m actually doing pretty great. All these other people need their sins forgiven but me? Nah, I’m good.”
The tax collector saw it very differently. He compared himself to the perfect righteous standard of God and knew he didn’t measure up at all. He knew his only chance was to trust in God’s mercy. His salvation certainly wasn’t going to come from himself, it completely depended on the atoning sacrifice that was being done for him by the high priest.
The good guy didn’t think he needed to be pardoned. The bad guy knew it was his only hope.
But the people hearing this story would have still been shocked by the punchline.
VERSE 14:
“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” Luke 18:14
Everyone would have been shocked by the twist. The tax collector is the good one. And no one would have been more outraged than the Pharisees listening to the story.
Why was the tax collector justified—made right with God—but the Pharisee wasn’t? It seems obvious to anyone who has heard the Gospel. We’re saved by grace through faith so that no one can boast—no one can think they were saved because of how good they are. No one is good on their own. God either has mercy on us and makes us good or we have nothing to brag about. We’re all born into sinful a situation with death’s foot on our necks. We’re born sinners and then we spend our whole life sinning up a storm and making it worse. One of the points of this story is how disgusting self-righteousness looks to God. People who try to justify themselves by making themselves look good, and making other people look bad, only make themselves more ugly.
The Pharisee didn’t ask for forgiveness. Probably didn’t think he had anything to be forgiven for. He thought he had it covered. Covered it himself by being such a good man. Whatever that High Priest thought he was doing for him in there was completely unnecessary. He exalted himself in complete prideful self-delusion.
Kind of like when we tell people that Jesus forgives them of their sin and they’re like, “Okay, that’s nice. I’m soooo glad my “sins” are forgiven.” Too many people don’t think they need God’s forgiveness.
But the tax collector had a more accurate picture of himself. He knew he was a sinner. The sinner. Someone who needs to be covered. Atoned. He needed God’s mercy. He didn’t try to justify himself—knew he needed to be justified.
This is a perfect picture of what salvation is going to look like after the cross and the resurrection—what it looks like for all of us. We are not worthy on our own, we’re not good. Then we come to God in that posture of humility and we’re completely justified by God’s mercy. Pardoned. Forgiven. Atoned by the blood shed for us on the cross by our High Priest Jesus Christ.
So here’s the question for all of us today: How can we know that we’ll leave here and go home justified?
Let’s look at what we learned from this story:
We’re not going to be justified by comparing ourselves to anyone else. Not by looking at anything we’ve done. Not by trying to justify any of our sin. Not by reminding God of all the good things we’ve done. Not by pointing out how bad someone else is.
You are only assured of your salvation when you look for that assurance in Jesus—nowhere else. Your standing with God isn’t based on anything you do, it’s not based on anything about you. Your assurance of salvation is based on His mercy and grace, which are given to you freely. It’s His idea. You’re not tricking Him into saving you. All you can do is respond to His promise. His Gospel. Take a cue from the tax collector and approach God with humility and repentance trusting in the sacrifice of the High Priest. Our High Priest whose name is Jesus. There is no one or nothing else that can save you.
Humility is important. Being humble. It’s something we have to regulate in ourselves, we’re not allowed to go around humiliating other people. We’re not supposed to Jesus Juke everyone and pretend like it’s discipleship. We’re not allowed to put people down to make ourselves look better. The Pharisee’s pride was worse than the tax collector’s sin against his own countrymen. I don’t think we understand that. We need to be very careful, especially in these politically charged times, that we don’t think we’re better than some other group of sinners. Whatever group of people we think are the worst—whoever we see as tax collectors—we need to be careful that we don’t stand up with all the self-righteous pride of a Pharisee. Our pride isn’t better than their pride.
Jesus told this story so you wouldn’t bother looking to your own goodness to save you—so you wouldn’t get discouraged by your personal failures and sins—so you wouldn’t listen to what anyone else says about you. The only one who matters what they say about you is Him and He has this big idea that He’s going to pardon all your sins and bring you into His eternal home.
It does us absolutely no good to compare ourselves with other people. All that’s going to do is rob us of our joy, make us bitter, prideful, resentful—and get us completely off track from where God wants us to be. It’s such an easy way to ignore our own sin—we can always think of someone who’s worse than we are. Instead, what we need to do, is constantly compare ourselves to God’s Word, His Law, His perfection—it’s not going to make us feel good about ourselves. It’s a really harsh mirror—it’s going to crush all of our self-delusion. It’s going to humble us and send us back to Jesus, send us back asking for mercy—asking for atonement—for pardon. Forgiveness that comes from outside us. That’s the only way to salvation, and the only assurance of salvation.
Look at it this way: When we compare ourselves to Jesus in all His sinless perfection—it’s humbling—which is good. That’s exactly where we need to be because then He promises that He will compare Himself to us and say, “I got you covered. You’re good.” And then He’ll say to the Father, “Look who I brought to Your house.” And the Father will say, “Son, if they’re good with you then they’re good with me. Welcome home.” And you will go home justified. AMEN