60   God Be Merciful

 Scripture:  Luke 18:9-14

The Pharisee and the Publican

The parable of the Pharisee and publican probably followed soon, if not immediately, after that of the importunate widow. It was directed, according to verse 9, to those who “trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others.” Such were the marks of a Pharisee, of course; so, if Jesus were not addressing the Pharisees themselves, He was certainly dealing with those who, as Edersheim says, were “of Pharisaic spirit.”

In this parable of Jesus, how­ever, the contrast is not between Pharisees and publicans as such; for the fact is that there were Pharisees (though perhaps few) who did approach the Father in proper humility, and there were publicans who were no more humble than were the majority of Pharisees. Jesus intended to condemn not simply Pharisees, but all those who, like the Pharisee in the parable, justified themselves. And He justified all those who, like the publican in the parable, condemned themselves.

In order to do that, Jesus intentionally chose the two extremes in Jewish society. At “the pinnacle of holiness,” writes Lenski, stood the Pharisee; while the publican “was a wicked outcast.” The point of Christ was that, in the eyes of God, all of man’s righteousness, even the righteousness of one so scrupulous in the observance of the law as was the Pharisee, counts for nothing. And, on the other hand, one who finds in Christ all of his righteousness is justified—though he be so notorious a sinner as a publican was made to appear.

Difference in attitude

The scene of Christ’s parable is the court of the temple. Two men, Jesus said, one a Pharisee and the other a publican, came there to pray.

That there was a marked differ­ence in the attitude of these two men became apparent immediately on their entrance into the outer court of the temple. The publican, Jesus said, stood “afar off” (18:13). The idea seems to be that he chose for himself a far corner of the court. Evidently he considered himself to be unworthy even to approach the sanctuary (the temple proper, into which only the priests could go).

The entering of the Pharisee is decidedly different. Jesus does not give a detailed description here, but it seems that the publican’s “standing afar off” is meant to be in contrast to the action of the Pharisee. We imagine, then, that the Pharisee, with an air of superiority, strode confidently toward the sanctuary, and stopped only when he reached the low wall beyond which he was not permitted to go. And there he made his prayer.

Let us watch the two, now, as they make their respective prayers. The publican, when he reached his far corner, did not “lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven” (18:13). Standing in the presence of the holy God, he was overwhelmed by the consciousness of his sins and of his state as a sinner. He felt nothing but shame, and therefore cast his eyes down to the ground.

Again, this is probably meant to stand in contrast to the Pharisee, who, with all the assurance of his self-righteousness, must have lifted his eyes, and perhaps also his hands, boldly toward heaven, and “prayed thus with himself” (18:11).

Praying with himself

Yes, the Pharisee prayed with himself. It is as plain as can be, from the contents of his prayer, that his thoughts were not of God. He was going through the motions of prayer, and no doubt leaving the impression with others (which was, of course, his calculated aim) that his was a highly religious exercise; and yet, it cannot be that he experienced any communion with God. It is true that he began his prayer by saying, “God, I thank thee.” But the problem is that what followed was not a prayer of genuine thanksgiving. One who is truly thankful for gifts of God—gifts that are emphatically gifts of grace (undeserved favor, to a wretched sinner)—does not proceed to make those gifts the grounds for exalting himself above others. The fact is, therefore, that the Pharisee used the words, “I thank thee,” only as an introduction to his enumeration of the works by which he had merited God’s favor, and by which he had set himself apart from other men.

Better than the law

Other men, he said, are extortioners, unjust, adulterers, . . . and publicans. But not he. He fasts “twice in the week” (18:12). The law of God required only one day of fasting per year—on the Day of Atonement (see Lev. 23:27). The Jews had, according to Lenski, established four other fast days. But the Pharisees, “as a special mark of holiness,” had taken it upon themselves to fast also on every Monday and Thursday. They not only kept the law; they were more virtuous than the law demanded! But, says Edersheim, “perhaps we should not forget that these (Mondays and Thursdays) were also the regular market days, when the country-people came to the towns, and there were special Services in the Synagogues, and the local Sanhedrin met—so that these saints in Israel would, at the same time, attract and receive special notice for their fasts.”

Whether there was any connection between the two or not, the fact is that the Pharisees did make special effort to parade their virtues before others. The Pharisee in Jesus’ parable was doing that in his praying. He was parading his good deeds before God, certainly. But he was doing the same before men; for in all likelihood he prayed aloud, and his whole bearing was intended to attract attention to himself. Jesus had testified of them, earlier in His ministry, that they “love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men” (Matt. 6:5).

The Pharisee, in self-congra­tulatory prayers such as this one, would very likely call attention to quite a number of deeds in order to show that his holiness far surpassed that of other men. Jesus mentions only two. The first was that of his fasting. In addition, the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable boasted, “I give tithes of all that I possess” (Luke 18:12). Here again he was performing above that which the law required. There were legitimate ex­emptions that could be made in the figuring of the tithe; but this man was careful to give ten per cent of all of his gains.

That was the Pharisee’s prayer. In it he had compared himself with other men and had found himself to be free of their sins. And in examining his own life he concluded that his righteousness actually exceeded that which the law required. He stood before the face of the righteous, holy God and found nothing that was cause for shame. With regard to holiness, the Pharisee, in his own opinion, was in a class quite by himself. That is implied, by the way, in the very name “Pharisees”—which means “Separated Ones.” If ever any were entitled to a place in God’s kingdom, it would surely be they!

The publican’s petition

Then there is that other man, the despised publican, standing off in a corner by himself, with his eyes to the ground. He has also examined himself in the light of God’s law . . . and has found not a single work of which he can boast. And he has compared himself with others. That was plain already from the fact that, on entering the temple, he stood “afar off,” behind everyone else. And it is evident too in his petition. He “smote upon his breast” in contrition, and said simply, “God be merciful to me the sinner” (18:13).

The King James Version has “a sinner,” but the Greek text, we are told, reads “the sinner.” Edersheim puts it this way: “The definite article is used to indicate that he felt as if he alone were a sinner, nay, the sinner. . . . In contrast to the Pharisee, who had regarded every one but himself as a sinner, the Publican regarded every one as righteous compared with him ‘the sinner.’ And, while the Pharisee felt no need, and uttered no petition, the Publican felt only need, and uttered only petition.”

That petition, by the way, is most instructive. Notice that the publican makes no reference at all to his works. He is aware of the fact that they are all bad. But, as Rev. Hoeksema once wrote, “it is not the works that crowd in upon his consciousness at this moment, now that he stands in the very presence of the Holy One. He is thinking of himself . . . his mind and heart, his very nature. Not that he did sin, but that he is a sinner causes within him a feeling, a profound consciousness of being utterly broken and abased, abominable in the sight of God! . . . And all he can say before the face of the Most High is the self-accusing, self-humiliating: God be merciful to me a sinner!”

The Pharisee denied that he bore the guilt of Adam’s sin. He denied that his nature was depraved. And he denied that he had any sins of his own that made him worthy of death. He saw the law as being a matter of tithing and fasting—not a matter of loving God with his whole heart and mind and soul and strength. Standing in the presence of God, who demands perfection, he boldly pronounced sentence upon himself—and that sentence was a declaration of righteousness. No need had he for a savior; no need for the cross.

The publican, on the other hand, saw the corruption of his nature. He saw that he was a sinner, and that if he were to receive the just reward of his own deeds, he would be cast forever into hell. But the publican knew, as did all of the Old Testament saints, that with God there is mercy. There is pardon for sinners. Did not all of the sacrifices testify of that? For that pardon he had come to the temple, and in his prayer he now casts himself on the mercy of God. He finds, in other words, no hope for himself . . . apart from the cross.

The publican justified

“I tell you,” Jesus said at the conclusion of His parable, “this man went down to his house justified rather than the other.” The Pharisee returned home with the righteousness—his own righteousness—that he had claimed for himself. The publican went home assured that the righteousness of another was his. And he knew himself to be justified on the basis of that righteousness—a righteousness freely imputed to a wretched sinner. With that blessed assurance, a wonderful peace filled the soul of the publican—a peace of which the Pharisee knew nothing, for it belongs only to the elect of God, to those who therefore humble themselves in His presence.

Who is the Pharisee?

We ought not to study a parable such as this without asking ourselves: “How do we measure up?” The sin of the Pharisee, you know, which is the sin of pride, is not far from any of us. Our prayers may invariably include a petition concerning the forgiveness of sin; but is that perhaps the extent of our humbling ourselves before God? Are we inclined to think that we are really not so bad yet after all—at least not in comparison with others? That was the sin of the Pharisee, remember. If we see ourselves as we really are, in the light of God’s holiness (not in the light of other people’s sins), then we abhor ourselves in His presence. Then we confess with the publican, and with the apostle Paul (see I Tim. 1:15), that we are the chief of sinners. For we see that the heart of God’s law is this: Love Me, perfectly. And the simple fact is that we do not and can not keep that. Our very best works fall far short of that requirement.

How do we respond to God’s just demand? Rev. Hoeksema put it this way: “We answer, by His grace, not: here, Lord, my fasts, my tithes, my works and my wonders; but: Lord, I cannot! God be merciful to me a sinner!” And God’s answer?—“He leads us to His righteousness, to the perfect response of the perfect Man, Immanuel, the Lamb of God!” Then, and then only, do we have the testimony of the Spirit in our hearts that we are justified—justified by God Himself.
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