Eleventh Sunday after Trinity

Three men went up to the temple to pray. One was a self-righteous Pharisee. The second was a wicked sinner. The third was neither self-righteous, nor a wicked sinner. Of course, he sinned occasionally—everyone does—but just enough to keep him humble. This third man is the one that we would all like to be in the story. Nobody wants to be the Pharisee, trusting in his own righteousness rather than in Jesus, looking down on everybody else. And nobody wants to be known as the big sinner, the one who’s not even worthy to actually enter the church, the one who stands near the back door and doesn’t even dare to lift his eyes up to heaven, the one whose only prayer is, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” This man doesn’t have his life together, and everyone knows it. What a loser. No, we would all like to be the third man, the one who is not judgmental, yet is not such a terrible sinner as to lose his reputation. The third man is a sinner, but he keeps his cool. He needs Jesus, but not desperately. His life is pretty much in order, and so he has the respect of all his neighbors and friends. All in all, he’s a good guy that everyone wants to be like.

Three men went up to the temple to pray. Which one are you? The obvious problem with this story, is it’s not the one that Jesus told. There are only two men and you are one of them. The third guy, who takes the middle road between the self-righteous Pharisee and the groveling sinner, doesn’t actually exist. Before God, there are only two positions to take: You are either the proud man who brings your own righteousness to church to display before God, or you are the desperate sinner, who pleads for undeserved mercy. Which one are you?

There is no third option. That’s why there are only two men in Jesus’ story. There is no middle way, where we can still retain some of our pride before God. There are only two kinds of people in this world: those who parade their good works before men and God, and the undeserving who cast themselves upon the mercy of Christ. But does the tax collector accurately describe you? Are you really that desperate for forgiveness? Are you really, to speak in worldly terms, that much of a loser that you must come to Jesus as a beggar? Surely, it’s not quite as bad as that, is it? Don’t you have at least something, some accomplishment, some measure of self-respect to put yourself in a higher class than this poor, miserable tax collector?

These questions are temptations to pride, and they are deadly. Pride is the greatest of the seven deadly sins; it is what led Adam and Eve to abandon their dependency on God and strike out on their own. Pride is the only reason that anyone will end up in hell. There are only two men: the miserable sinner who cries out to God for salvation, and the respectable sinner who is too proud to admit his wretched state. Only the one who calls on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ will be saved (Acts 2:21).

At the beginning of the service you confessed “I, a poor, miserable sinner.” If you heard this for the first time you might be a bit shocked. Why would anyone confess that? What a bummer! What you Lutherans need is little bit of self-respect. Don’t be so hard on yourselves. You need to learn about the power of positive thinking. Don’t you know that church is supposed to make you feel better about yourself? Actually, that’s not true at all. We don’t go to church to feel better. We don’t go to church to get a booster shot of self-esteem. We go to church to get Jesus. We go to receive his gifts. We go to church empty expecting to be filled with forgiveness, with the Words of Life, with the Bread of Life. And Jesu promises that every poor, miserable, sinner who comes to him will be received. God fills the hungry with good things, but the rich he sends away empty.

Joyce Meyer, a popular TV preacher, grew up in the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. But she turned her back on the faith that she was taught and now is fond of saying, “I am not poor. I am not miserable. I am not a sinner.” Well, if you are not that tax collector, then who are you? The rich, righteous, Pharisee. There is no third option. And guess what? God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6). He casts down the mighty from their thrones, and exalts those of humble estate (Lk 1:52). Jesus tells us that the miserable tax collector went home from church forgiven, rather than the Pharisee.

I’m sure the Pharisee went home full of self-esteem, feeling good about himself and his place in the world. And what about the tax collector? Do you think he was bubbling over with good feelings as he went home? Maybe—nothing wrong with good feelings—but maybe not. But no matter what he felt like, guess what? He was forgiven, and that is the objective reality before God that actually matters. Have you ever felt down in the dumps? Have you ever felt distant from God, painfully aware of the sinfulness of your fallen human nature? Have you ever felt as though your spirit has been crushed? That’s how the tax collector must have felt. The Bible teaches that these are the times in your life when you are actually the closest to God. Yes, the Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Ps 34:18). The tax collector may not have felt close to God, but he went home forgiven of every sin, filled with the righteousness of Jesus, perfectly clean in the eyes of God. The Lord raises the poor out of the dung heap. He exalts those of low degree. He fills the empty with good things.

Jesus says, “Whoever comes to me, I will never cast out” (Jn 6:37). You came to Jesus this morning, and how did you come? Did you come as the Pharisee, trusting in your righteousness, thanking God that you’re really not that bad, with no desperate need to be forgiven? Or did you come as that poor, miserable, sinner, as the tax collector who doesn’t even deserve to stand before God or look up to heaven? Did you come crying out, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”? 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” (Lk 18:14).

Here is our Lord’s promise to every desperate sinner who cries out for mercy. You will never be turned away. Instead, your prayer will be answered, and you will be filled with every good gift that our Lord Jesus desires to give you. But only the sick are healed. Only the hungry are filled. Only sinners are invited to his Table. Come and receive forgiveness, life, and salvation. Amen.