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
Do you have anything on your conscience today? I think you would be pretty unusual if you said No.
It may be something quite trivial - you snapped at someone, perhaps, or over-indulged yourself a bit last night.
Or it could be something more serious - perhaps a memory of something you did many years ago, a memory that just won’t go away. It may be something that you alone know, something tucked away deep in your conscience that makes you burn with shame.
Whatever, we all know that feeling of guilt (or I hope we do, anyway, for there is something badly wrong with us if we don’t). We haven’t just let ourselves down, we have also hurt other people and grieved God himself.
Well, the beautiful little story Jesus tells in Luke 18:9-14 is perfect medicine for a hurting conscience.
Two men go into the temple in Jerusalem to pray. The Pharisee is proud and self-righteous, and prays a prayer which is full of himself. He informs God (who, I suspect, already knew perfectly well, thank you very much) what a splendid person he is - he “fasts twice a week and gives a tenth of all he gets”. He is thoroughly religious, for goodness’ sake.
He turns a condemning eye on the tax-collector standing near him and thanks God that “I’m not like him”, or like “robbers, evil-doers and adulterers”. Oh no! - he is “not like other people” .
If you met this man in the street you would probably be a little in awe of him; he is what used to be called “a pillar of society”. But... he is proud.
The tax-collector, on the other hand, has probably lived a petty shady life (perhaps he was a friend of Zacchaeus, who we meet in the next chapter of Luke). And he knows it only too well. So when he comes into the temple to pray he’s not just carrying out a religious duty - no, he really wants to do business with God.
He hasn’t got any fancy words to use. The best he can manage (apart from beating his breast as a sign of remorse) is “God, have mercy on me, a sinner”. End of prayer. (Sometimes the short prayers are the best...)
And what happened? Let Jesus tell us in his own words: “... this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God”.
To be “justified” means to be acquitted, to be “in the right”, to be discharged from God’s court of law. Isn’t that wonderful?
When that man left the temple he went home with a light step, a straight back and a head held high. Can you see him? Perhaps he even had a big fat smile on his face. I like to think so.
This wasn’t because he had done anything good, for he hadn’t, had he (though I’m sure, as with Zacchaeus, that would come very soon)? No, all he had done was admit his wretchedness and throw himself on the mercy of God. Just that. But his humble confession cut more ice with God than all the fine deeds of the Pharisee.
The story doesn’t give us a full picture, of course - I’m sure that in Jesus’ day there were good and humble Pharisees and also honest tax-collectors; not everyone should be tarred with the same brush.
But the point is clear: there is nothing God loves more than to forgive someone who is truly sorry for who they are and what they have done. In fact Jesus spells this great truth out elsewhere: “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine good people who don’t need to” (Luke 15:7).
Why does God forgive us in this way? Simple: because he loves us, that’s why. Did you know that God loves you, whatever bad things you might have done, and whatever darkness shadows your heart? Of course you did! You hear it pretty well every Sunday in church! You’ve known it since you were a child!
All right, let me ask the question another way. Have you ever really taken this great truth to heart? - taken it on board, as they say? Have you ever sat down in a quiet and serious moment and said to yourself, “God loves me. God is waiting to forgive me. Jesus died for me”?
No? Well, why not today? Why not right now?
Lord God, when I look into my heart and soul, when I think about the past, I find many things that make me burn with shame. I find darkness. But thank you that still you love me, and that you delight to forgive. Help me to receive your forgiveness today, to rejoice in it, and to live the life of a sinner washed clean as snow. Amen.
Do you have anything on your conscience today? I think you would be pretty unusual if you said No.
It may be something quite trivial - you snapped at someone, perhaps, or over-indulged yourself a bit last night.
Or it could be something more serious - perhaps a memory of something you did many years ago, a memory that just won’t go away. It may be something that you alone know, something tucked away deep in your conscience that makes you burn with shame.
Whatever, we all know that feeling of guilt (or I hope we do, anyway, for there is something badly wrong with us if we don’t). We haven’t just let ourselves down, we have also hurt other people and grieved God himself.
Well, the beautiful little story Jesus tells in Luke 18:9-14 is perfect medicine for a hurting conscience.
Two men go into the temple in Jerusalem to pray. The Pharisee is proud and self-righteous, and prays a prayer which is full of himself. He informs God (who, I suspect, already knew perfectly well, thank you very much) what a splendid person he is - he “fasts twice a week and gives a tenth of all he gets”. He is thoroughly religious, for goodness’ sake.
He turns a condemning eye on the tax-collector standing near him and thanks God that “I’m not like him”, or like “robbers, evil-doers and adulterers”. Oh no! - he is “not like other people” .
If you met this man in the street you would probably be a little in awe of him; he is what used to be called “a pillar of society”. But... he is proud.
The tax-collector, on the other hand, has probably lived a petty shady life (perhaps he was a friend of Zacchaeus, who we meet in the next chapter of Luke). And he knows it only too well. So when he comes into the temple to pray he’s not just carrying out a religious duty - no, he really wants to do business with God.
He hasn’t got any fancy words to use. The best he can manage (apart from beating his breast as a sign of remorse) is “God, have mercy on me, a sinner”. End of prayer. (Sometimes the short prayers are the best...)
And what happened? Let Jesus tell us in his own words: “... this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God”.
To be “justified” means to be acquitted, to be “in the right”, to be discharged from God’s court of law. Isn’t that wonderful?
When that man left the temple he went home with a light step, a straight back and a head held high. Can you see him? Perhaps he even had a big fat smile on his face. I like to think so.
This wasn’t because he had done anything good, for he hadn’t, had he (though I’m sure, as with Zacchaeus, that would come very soon)? No, all he had done was admit his wretchedness and throw himself on the mercy of God. Just that. But his humble confession cut more ice with God than all the fine deeds of the Pharisee.
The story doesn’t give us a full picture, of course - I’m sure that in Jesus’ day there were good and humble Pharisees and also honest tax-collectors; not everyone should be tarred with the same brush.
But the point is clear: there is nothing God loves more than to forgive someone who is truly sorry for who they are and what they have done. In fact Jesus spells this great truth out elsewhere: “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine good people who don’t need to” (Luke 15:7).
Why does God forgive us in this way? Simple: because he loves us, that’s why. Did you know that God loves you, whatever bad things you might have done, and whatever darkness shadows your heart? Of course you did! You hear it pretty well every Sunday in church! You’ve known it since you were a child!
All right, let me ask the question another way. Have you ever really taken this great truth to heart? - taken it on board, as they say? Have you ever sat down in a quiet and serious moment and said to yourself, “God loves me. God is waiting to forgive me. Jesus died for me”?
No? Well, why not today? Why not right now?
Lord God, when I look into my heart and soul, when I think about the past, I find many things that make me burn with shame. I find darkness. But thank you that still you love me, and that you delight to forgive. Help me to receive your forgiveness today, to rejoice in it, and to live the life of a sinner washed clean as snow. Amen.
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