Psalm 25, Luke 18:9-14, Philippians 3:4-11

Prayer: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on us, sinners.’

Imagine you have two blank sheets of paper, and you are about to write the ‘headlines’ of your life from your earliest memories to this moment.

Divide the first page into four columns.

Column 1 is headed ‘What I’d Proud Of’ – list what your admiring eulogist might say at your funeral.

Column 3 – ‘My Troubles and What I’m Ashamed Of’ – include everything which causes you deep frustration and pain, guilt (bad stuff you’ve done) and shame (whatever makes you feel bad).

Column 2 – ‘How I Feel’ about the headings in the adjacent two lists.

Column 4 – ‘Who God Is For Me’ in the light of all this.

On the second page, list on the left hand side the letters of the alphabet – A at the top down to Z at the bottom – and on each line compose a statement about yourself or a prayer/petition about the most important items on the other sheet.

You could spend a whole day in prayerful solitude doing all this, and then later perhaps share it with your spiritual director.

Our Psalmist – probably David – did this sort of very serious exercise and we have just been privileged to ‘listen in’ to it.

[At this point, ask ‘Where would I take this meditation from here?’ Perhaps reflect on that before reading further…]

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Psalm 25 is a lament. ‘Laments’ usually include a cry for help (see vv. 1-3) concerning life’s troubles (18-19), a desire to be forgiven of all the sins of the past (7, 11, 18, 21), an expression of trust in a God who is good and just (8-15), and a prayer for vindication (16-20).

Psalm 25 is also a good summary of the key themes in Hebrew ‘Wisdom literature’ – knowing the will of God revealed in his laws and the character of his faithful love revealed in the covenant he has made with his people; and the promise of tangible rewards to those who obey the Lord God and ‘fear’ him (hold him in awe).

And this Psalm is a response to a question-and-answer from the previous one: ‘Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord, and who shall stand in his holy place? Those who have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to what is false… They will receive blessing from the Lord, and vindication from the God of their salvation’ (Psalm 24: 3-5).

So this business of doing an ‘audit’ in the presence of God who gave you the gift of life to begin with, whose mercy has followed you all your days, and to whom you will give an account of everything you have ever done, is a very serious business. We don’t do this lightly. That’s why the Bible says it’s a ‘fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God’ (Hebrews 10:31).

Each verse in Psalm 25 begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet. It’s is a mnemonic device – an acrostic is more easily memorized. It doesn’t have a logical structure: everything important to this prayerful man is tossed in wherever it will fit. This psalm is worth carrying around with you as you too experience sin, suffering, hurt, and disappointment.

The Psalmist is very honest, and very realistic about his life. He has his ‘ups and downs’ as we all do. He’s had his good days, and his bad days. Sometimes his faith is strong, and he delights to do God’s will; but sometimes he’s tempted to do the wrong thing, and is racked with guilt and shame. Sometimes he’s almost carried away with fervent praise to God; but then he experiences seasons of hardship, loneliness and grief. The life of faith is not a bed of roses – and we don’t always come out of it smelling like roses either!

With deep emotion, he uses various words to describe his sins: the ‘wild oats’ sown in his youth, and also ‘transgressions’ – more deliberate acts of sinfulness and rebellion. He believes that a key answer for his waywardness lies in God’s law, so you’ll note the reiteration of pleas like ‘teach me’, ‘instruct me in your ways’ etc. But he’s also a faithful God whose tender mercy has been experienced through the centuries by his covenant-people – and is the psalmist’s ‘friend’ in spite of all this sinning!!

JESUS’ PARABLE

How is this encounter with our achievements (column 1) and troubles and sins (column 3) meant to work out?

Jesus has given us a brilliant illustration, two contrasting case-studies, in the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector (Luke 18:9-14). These two Jews went to the temple to pray. The pharisee’s ‘column 1 prayer’ was based on his virtues; the tax collector’s penitential prayer was located squarely in column 3 (as was the Psalmist’s) – his sinning and a desperate plea for mercy.

The old maxim that ‘we are how we pray’ is very true, and Jesus’ parable epitomizes this truth better than any other. It was radically shocking to Jesus’ hearers, shattering commonly-held assumptions of goodness and badness. Here there’s a reversal of roles. The good guy is the bad guy, and one of the very worst of the bad guys is accepted by God!

THE PHARISEE

There are only three professional religious types in Jesus’ 60 parables – the priest and levite in the Good Samaritan story, and this pharisee – and all three had very bad religion.

Pharisees, however, were highly respected, honored for their goodness. Any Jewish family would have been very proud to have had a son grow up to become a pharisee.

This pharisee believed God was very impressed with his impeccable religious disciplines. He condemned thieves, hoodlums and adulterers…

In terms of fasting and tithing he went way beyond the demands of the law: not all pharisees did this. There was only one obligatory fast – on the Day of Atonement, once each year. But this ‘holy’ man fasted twice a week: on Mondays and Thursdays he ate and drank nothing from sunrise to sunset. Going without liquids on hot days was a very demanding thing to do. It’s ironic that he fasted for ‘the sins of the people’ but felt he was exempt from such sinning!

The Israelites were supposed to give the Levites a tithe of all they produced (Numbers 18:21; Deuteronomy 14:22), but this guy tithed everything – even stuff he bought which might already have been tithed by someone else. But just in case it wasn’t, he had it all ‘clean and covered’.

So the pharisee doesn’t really pray, but informs God about how good he is. He couldn’t say ‘Forgive our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us’ because he thought he had nothing to repent of and saw no need to change.

He had a superiority complex, and was quite expert in putting others down. Pharisees may feel superior for all kinds of reasons – racial/ethnic purity/cleverness; belonging to the right ‘social set’; or, as in this case, theological and religious purity.

John Calvin put it well when he wrote (‘On the Christian Life’) about ‘the insolence with which each, as if exempted from the common lot, seeks to exalt himself above his neighbour, confidently and proudly despising others, or at least looking down upon them as his inferiors. The poor man yields to the rich, the plebeian to the noble, the servant to the master, the unlearned to the learned, and yet every one inwardly cherishes some idea of his own superiority. Thus each flattering himself, sets up a kind of kingdom in his breast; the arrogant, to satisfy themselves, pass censure on the minds and manners of other men, and when contention arises, the full venom is displayed.’

The pharisee’s basic problem? He compares himself with overt sinners, instead of comparing himself to God. You can justify any sort of hypocrisy with false comparisons. William Barclay: ‘When we set our lives beside the wonder of the life of Jesus, and beside the holiness of God, then all that is left to say is “God be merciful to me – the sinner”.’

THE PUBLICAN

Tax collectors were traitors, and hated/despised. They worked for the occupying forces. Most ripped people off; most were easily bribed. (How would you like to be their kids – on the way to school dodging missiles thrown by angry neighbours…? Just as well their houses didn’t have glass windows in those days!).

But this tax collector didn’t say ‘I’m just doing what others have been doing for years… Everybody’s doing it… I couldn’t help it: I’ve got a family to feed…’

Instead he beat his breast – an ancient (and modern) sign of deep mourning/grieving: definitely not your victorious Tarzan-like chest-beating! The normal mode for public prayer – followed no doubt by the pharisee – was to lift one’s eyes and hands to heaven.

The Greek here literally says, not ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner,’ but ‘God be merciful to me, the sinner.’ ‘I’m the worst sinner around here…’

He had nothing to trust except the mercy of God: which is why it’s difficult for the rich – that’s us – to enter the kingdom of heaven. We’re self-contained, independent. We have most of our basic needs met. It’s hard for the rich to ‘hunger and thirst after righteousness’. They have less to ‘mourn’ about. They tend not to be meek. They certainly find it hard to be ‘poor in spirit’.

Did he change his behavior? (At least two tax collectors (Matthew and Zaccheus) who followed Jesus did). We don’t know – and that’s his and God’s business anyway, not ours.

A little note about stereotypes: not all pharisees were as arrogant or snobbish as this; and certainly not all tax collectors were penitent as this one was. Jesus was offering us two attitudinal extremes to make an important point about sinfulness and ‘being justified’.

SUMMARY

What a study in spiritual contrasts – and outcomes! What did they have in common? Both their prayers were true, and indeed ‘genuine’ from their points of view. They were both sinners, though one denied it and the other was obsessed by it. They both prayed to God: the pharisee had a deep respect for God, but ‘he prayed with himself’, addressing the God-within created in his own prideful image. ‘His prayer was offered not to God but to a Jerusalem audience composed of himself’ (Halford Luccock).

Two men went up to pray? Oh rather say One went to brag, the other went to pray’.

William Barclay again: ‘No one who despises others can really pray. In prayer we do not lift ourselves above others. We remember that we are one of a great army of sinning, suffering, sorrowing humanity, all kneeling before the throne of the mercy of God.’

The pharisee left the temple feeling very good about himself, but was in reality in dire trouble. The tax collector probably went away feeling just as rotten as he came: with maybe no assurance at all that God heard him or forgave him.

So how you feel may have nothing much to do with reality: it might have more to do with what you ate this morning, or what’s happening to your endocrinal system… (Cf. C S Lewis’ illustration of people having a party on a train which is about to collide head-on with another train: the fact that they felt happy had nothing objective to do with the reality of their situation).

TODAY

And this story is not only an ancient one. The attitudes of these two temple-worshippers are still with us, here, today, in this congregation. They are so much like each of us at our best and our worst. Here too the pharisee and the publican in each of us has come to worship and to pray. Spatially we’re different: these two stood apart from each other; here we’re all mingled together…

COLUMN ONE

Should we reject all our ‘Column 1’ feelings of accomplishment and achievement? No, but let us be careful not to define ourselves by them. It is certain that ‘if we are what we do, and especially what we do better than others’ then we’re a long way from being saints. These good gifts are means, not ends.

On the other hand, to grovel too much in our unworthiness is to deny the goodness of God’s creation. We are made in God’s image, we are a delight to him, in spite of our sinfulness.

So, in short, don’t have too high, or too low, an opinion of yourself! And as Kipling reminded us, triumphs and disasters may both be imposters! There is a time for penitence, and a time for thankfulness, but never for egotistical pride.

In the one-off diagnostic counseling sessions we do in our little ministry I hear this litany all the time:

I ask ‘What do you like about yourself?’

Response: ‘I’m a good student, I have achieved some success in my work, I am a good mother’ etc.

‘On a scale of 1 to 10 how do you rate your self-esteem, apart from what you do well? How much do you actually like the person you are?’

‘Oh, about 4 most of the time.’

‘So you too had a father who was too busy when you were a young teenager to give you the gift of delight, and quality time? He thought that being a good financial and educational provider was equal to being a good father…???’

Response (almost always): ‘How did you know about my father? I haven’t mentioned him yet!’

PAUL

So what are we to do with the good things we like about ourselves – our accomplishments; the qualities about us which others admire?

Let’s visit another biblical character.

In our third Scripture we meet an ex-pharisee who moved from column 1 to column 3! Paul prayed like the tax collector rather than the other pharisee in the temple: ‘Christ Jesus,’ he said ‘came into the world to save sinners, and I’m the worst of them’ (1 Timothy 1:15). (The last words of Martin Luther, written on a piece of paper: ‘We are all beggars, that is true).

In Philippians 3 Paul lists all the attainments about which he was once very proud. In Eugene Peterson’s translation ‘The Message’ he calls them ‘impressive credentials’: ‘You know my pedigree: a legitimate birth, circumcised on the eighth day; an Israelite from the elite tribe of Benjamin; a strict and devout adherent to God’s law; a fiery defender of the purity of my religion… a meticulous observer of everything set down in God’s law Book.’

And what does he think of these ‘Column 1 credentials’? He goes on: ‘The very credentials these people are waving around as something special, I’m tearing up and throwing out with the trash – along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ. Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant – dog dung. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him. I didn’t want some petty inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ – God’s righteousness.

‘I gave up all that inferior stuff so that I could know Christ personally…’

Paul discovered he was estranged from a holy and righteous God, that all his accomplishments were like ‘filthy rags’, and when, like the prodigal in another of Jesus’ stories, he repented and ‘came home’, he experienced first-hand a Father’s welcoming love and forgiving mercy.

There’s an old story from Spain. A father and his teenage son were estranged. The boy ran away from home, and the father began a long journey in search of his rebellious son. Finally, in the city of Madrid, in desperation, he put this ad. in a newspaper: ‘Dear Paco, please meet me in front of the office of this newspaper at noon tomorrow. All is forgiven. I love you. Your father.’

The next day at noon, in front of the newspaper office about 800 Paco’s showed up.

On a visit to the Philippines I heard about a boy who ran away from home, where his labour was needed on their little family-farm. In his letters from Manila told his family he would earn a lot of money and they wouldn’t have to work so hard for so little any more. After a few years he was broke, homeless and hungry and wrote again: ‘I’m coming home. I’m sorry… If you want me back put a white flag in the tree at the front of our place. If it’s not there, I’ll go away…’ As he approached his village in a ‘jeepney’ taxi, he was very anxious. And then from the window he saw the tree. Was a white flag there? No – the whole tree was covered in white – sheets, underwear, you name it! The prodigal was welcomed home, and they too had a party…

A PRAYER OF CONFESSION AND RECEIVING ABSOLUTION.

Our concern today is that we all, everyone here, like the Prodigal, will ‘come home’ and like the tax collector, will go from this place of worship ‘justified’, having encountered (in the great Wesleyan phrase) ‘mercy all, immense and free’.

How? Well, let us quietly pray in words like these, which will put the pharisee and the sinner in each of us into proper perspective: ‘Lord God, our eternal creator, lover, and redeemer, thank you for all the good gifts you’ve given to me, to us – the gift of life itself; family and talents, and this community of friends; and especially the gift of spiritual life and health and peace which comes to us in Jesus Christ our Lord. But we confess that we have offended against your love and your law. We have done what we ought not have done, and left undone what we should have done. We have sinned against you and against others. Dear Lord, please forgive us all our sins, and cleanse us from our pride and all unrighteousness.’

And now let us hear and receive the words of forgiveness and absolution: ‘Almighty God, to whom all our hearts are open and who knows all our desires, today we accept your gift of pardon and of peace, and the forgiveness of all our sins – especially the sin of pride – in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’

The Lord bless you.

Rowland Croucher

June 2006