Luke 18:9–14

11th Sunday after Trinity

Lektorin Ingrid Woodrow

Sermon by Retired Pastor Hans Martin Heins from *Leben mit Jesus* and by Dr Almuth Märker, lay preacher at St Thomas’s.

Dear Congregation,

Who doesn’t know people who are really good at putting themselves in a favourable light? No matter where they are, they’re constantly showing off how brilliant they are and what marvellous things they do. Perhaps in a group they’ll talk about all the good they’ve done yet again over the past week; how they’re always getting involved and how everything then works out so wonderfully. And that’s why so many people in the congregation are doing so well. People like that can be really exhausting and annoying – and perhaps even make others feel envious.

It’s just as well that we’re different: modest, humble, we don’t boast, we recognise our weaknesses and mistakes, and we’re happy to stay in the background – aren’t we?

Yet the others are simply doing what’s promoted these days: management consultants recommend ‘Do good and talk about it!’; every advert promotes its products in this way, and even churches are being advised to promote themselves more.

Sermon Scripture from Luke 18:9–14

How can anyone be so arrogant?! But beware: the moral of the story is not that simple. The poet Eugen Roth had a keen sense of this. ‘A man once took a closer look / at the parable of the Pharisee, / who thanked God with hypocrisy / for not being a tax collector. / ‘Thank God!’ he cried in his vanity, / ‘that I am not a Pharisee!’” Do WE get it? It has already happened. It is all too easy to fall into the trap. Before you know it, the roles are reversed. 

Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that the Pharisee really is pious. That is undoubtedly a good thing, and it pleases God. Nor is there anything wrong with the Pharisee proudly saying these things about himself. But the Pharisee says something else as well: ‘I thank you, God, that I am not like other people – robbers, swindlers, adulterers, or even like this tax collector’. That, however, does not sound good to God’s ears.

In order to cloak himself in even greater glory, he exposes the others; to make himself great, he belittles the others. And before he realises it, he thereby destroys his own piety, and all his holiness becomes mere empty pretence. For the Pharisee’s behaviour is not merely uncouth – one need not kick those who are already down – nor is it merely vain blasphemy, self-righteous, condescending, haughty or slightly elitist – no, what the Pharisee does is far worse; the sting runs much deeper. It is the old sin, the old game: wanting to be like God, exalting oneself, declaring oneself righteous and passing judgement on others. The Pharisee does not leave judgement to God – neither that concerning himself nor that concerning others.

He presents himself as the ‘humble’ one of the two sinners. But even with humility and modesty, I can draw attention to myself and feel good about myself; better than others. Even with great self-criticism and an awareness of my sins, I can present myself to myself, to others and to God as someone who is better. Wilhelm Busch wrote as far back as the 19th century: ‘Self-criticism has much going for it. Suppose I reproach myself; firstly, I gain the advantage of being so wonderfully modest; secondly, people think, ‘That man is the very picture of integrity’; thirdly, I get a head start on the others’ criticisms; and fourthly, I also hope for a rebuttal that suits me. So, in the end, it turns out that I’m quite a splendid fellow!”

The difference in our text is this: the Pharisee focuses on himself and says to God, ‘Look at me.’ He seeks and finds his self-worth and his righteousness by analysing his own character. He uses what he finds within himself as a bargaining chip with God. He is certainly aware that he sins, but he counterbalances this with the good he finds in himself – for example, his good deeds, his efforts, his humility, and his awareness of his sin. And so, he concludes: ‘God must be satisfied with me.’ This gives him a sense of security.

The tax collector could also have drawn attention to himself through his humility and self-criticism, but he does not look to himself at all; rather, he looks to God. He offers God no bargaining chip; he knows that he has nothing to offer God – not because he is a particularly bad person, but because he knows that God is too great and holy for us to bargain with him.  But he places his hope in God’s love and mercy. There he seeks security and justice. Anyone who approaches God in this way sees him as his Father, who loves him for his own sake, who looks upon him with mercy; who rejoices and grieves, depending on how a person lives their life.

The question is: how do we stand before God – by looking at ourselves, at who we are and what we have achieved? Or do we trust that God looks upon us with mercy and love? Does that give us security?

If I look to myself, then I must constantly live with the fear that God will find something in me that is so terrible in His eyes that He will reject me. After all, there is so much that is pitiful in our lives, and we know full well that we cannot stand before God with it. How can we live with confidence, or even face death, if we look at ourselves! Certainty in faith – in life and in death – comes only when we look to Christ and trust in his promise. That which we look to is our source of strength.

When we look at ourselves, we are fine as long as we’re successful and everything’s going well. Sometimes, just one negative experience is enough to rob us of all the strength we’ve built up through positive experiences.

When it comes to our self-esteem, it is easily shattered by negative experiences.   When fear and worry about the future suddenly well up and paralyse us, Jesus wants to take them away from me and set me free from them, so that I can face life with renewed courage. Jesus is the living water, the ever-flowing source of strength for our lives.

The difference between Christians and non-Christians is not that God takes away Christians’ problems, that they are always well, or that they are better than others, but that they know they are loved and have a source of strength: the power of the Holy Spirit.

So how do I gain the certainty that God loves me and looks upon me with mercy?

When I look at my life, there are situations that fill me with joy, that make me want to thank God, and that give me a sense that God is very close to me. And when I go through times of sorrow and despair, I get the feeling that God is far from me, that I cannot sense Him or understand Him. By looking at myself alone, I cannot find any certainty of God’s love and mercy.

 I must look to Christ!

What he did for me is the firm foundation for this certainty of faith. Out of love, he gave up everything: his fellowship with God, his family, his friends, his life.

I cannot find this anywhere else:

In nature, I can find peace and admire God’s works, but I cannot discover his love for me. In religions and philosophies, I can find great ideas and ethical teachings, but the firm assurance that his love is directed towards me can only be found in Christ.

If we can trust in this way, then we can come before God with all our shortcomings in life and know: I am loved. He looks upon me with love and mercy. He is with me; He stands by me. I can rely on that, no matter what I am like or what I go through.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.