Jesus is going on a fishing expedition. He is going on a fishing expedition for our hearts and minds. This is often what Jesus does in the parables and this is specifically what he does in this parable. He wants to catch our hearts and minds.
In order to do this, Jesus must use the common techniques of fishing. First, he baits the hook. He baits the hook with something familiar and desirable to us, something that we crave. Then, just as we try to sink our teeth into the bait, he pulls on the fishing line setting the hook and reeling us in. Being a gracious Lord and God, once he gets us in the boat, he is willing to releases us.
As Jesus embarks on this fish expedition today, he does face one very significant challenge. The challenge is simply that many of us have heard this parable before and we know how it ends. We have seen the hook that Jesus dangles in front of us many times. Thus, we are not likely to take the bait. We already know how the parable turns out. We know who the good guy and bad guy is in the parable. Many of us are quickly able to rattle off the point of the parable. I am afraid that because all of this is so familiar to us, we may not let Jesus catch us. Thus, although we intellectually understand the point of the parable; namely, "When you come to the Lord God in prayer, humble yourself in his presence"—we don’t really let the truth sink into our hearts and minds. Since we know that the hook is lying right underneath the bait, we intellectually say to Jesus, "Good one, Lord! We get the point." Then, we let ourselves off the hook and never allow our hearts to be touched.
The truth is that most of us already know that we are to humble ourselves before God in prayer. Our prayers are filled with lines of deference to God, confessions of sins, and humble, appropriate words. But I suspect that many of us have never really let ourselves be drawn into Jesus’ simple fishing expedition—we have never really let the hook of the parable sink into our own flesh. So today, try to hear the parable with fresh ears, resetting the hook as it were, so that you can once again be caught by Jesus.
First, then, let us notice the bait that Jesus puts on the hook for us. Notice how Jesus sets up the story. He sets it up by talking about a contrast—a sharp contrast—that dominates the whole parable. There is light and there is darkness in this parable. There is no uncertainty. He portrays both characters in this parable in the starkest terms. The terms are that of goodness and brokenness, light and dark, status and emptiness, righteousness and baseness.
Consider with me the first character in the story. The Pharisee has status in the community. He goes to pray in the temple with a good name, respectability, and status. He is a religious leader in the community and so he holds his head high and prays boldly in the temple. Of course he does. His position in the religious community of his day is roughly equivalent to that of a deacon or elder or pastor or bishop today—a leader of the church. These are the sort of leaders whom we expect to find praying boldly in the church today. Likewise, when the Pharisee of Jesus’ day went to pray, the temple gates swung wide open, people approved of and even admired the man’s stature. The Pharisee represents all that is right, all that is light, all that is good. Frankly, most of us crave the type of status that this first man has.
On the other side of the parable, however, we find all that is wrong, all that is dark, and all that is bad. Frankly, most of us dread the type of status that this second man has. This second man in the parable doesn’t even really belong in the temple—he is such a disgrace! He is a tax collector—a collaborator with the enemy who, in Jesus’ day, makes his living by state—sponsored extortion. He works for the Romans, the pagan occupying force of Jerusalem. He receives the bulk of his payment by shaking—down his fellow Israelites—over charging them on their taxes and keeping the extra for himself. Virtually all of the people of his day saw him and others of his kind as offensive to God and a scandal to the good name of Israel.
Right from the beginning, even in the classification of the two characters in this parable, a Pharisee and a tax collector, Jesus has baited his hook, because we are a people who crave the light and dread the darkness. Thus, as the parable opens, we want to be like the righteous man, boldly standing in the light of the temple, receiving the approval of the people. We do not want to be like the sinner, the man in the shadows, the hated collaborator. The hook has been baited well. We want to take the bait.
Now, yes, yes, it is true that we have some trouble with this parable because we probably know that we are not supposed to like Pharisees. If we have any familiarity with the Gospels we know that the Pharisees are almost always bad guys. But remember, in Jesus’ day, the Pharisees were presumed by most to be the good guys, the righteous guys, the people of the light, people with status. Jesus is drawing us toward the supposed light created by those of status, position, and presumed righteousness.
We today are familiar with this sort of position and presumed righteousness, aren’t we? Isn’t this sort of status is attractive to us? If we have this status in the religious community we are likely to think well of ourselves, to feel like we belong. Maybe we will even have a sense of entitlement about being in God’s presence. If we do not have a good name or position in the church, we may very likely crave such a position. Or perhaps, since we see ourselves as unworthy of such status, we will just give up on God and the church. Surely, it is the Pharisee and not the tax collector who will be heard and accepted by God! Right?! The hook has been baited.
Jesus continues to dangle the hook in front of us as he goes on to contrast the behavior of the two people in our parable. Since, perhaps, we have heard the parable many times, and, since, perhaps, many of us have been conditioned not to like Pharisees; we sometimes miss the positive characteristics and behaviors of the first man in the parable. Specifically, we miss the fact that we are naturally drawn to the character and behavior of the Pharisee. Notice the behavior and character of the first man of the parable. He stands in the light. He stands by himself as the English text says, or "with things unto himself" as a literal translation of the Greek text puts it. In other words, here is a person who stands on his own two feet. He knows how to be in the temple. He is not awkward or ashamed or inappropriate. He has been in the temple a thousand times and recognizes that this is where he belongs. We all want to belong don’t we?
Not like the second man in the parable. This man, the tax collector, slinks into the temple and stays "at a distance." Literally, in the Greek, the text says that the man stands "far off." In the Gospel of Luke and in the book of Acts to be "far off" means to be away from God. No one wants to be far off. None of us want to be in the distance, far off from God. No, we want to be with the first man, boldly standing in God’s presence.
Jesus continues the contrast between the two individuals as he tells us that the Pharisee prays. He knows what to do in the temple. He prays. Of course, he does. We want to pray in God’s presence too don’t we? Next we read that he gives thanks to God. Well, that’s a fine way to begin a prayer. In contrast, the other guy, the tax collector, merely speaks to God. Jesus doesn’t specifically use the word pray for this second man’s activity. Just the common word "to speak" is used. In fact, the tax collector won’t even look up when he prays. Now I know that we are accustomed to thinking of this second man’s activity as humility, but honestly, don’t we like it when a person knows how to stand up and pray with thanksgiving, as opposed to someone who just slinks around at distance, hanging their hand and simply speaking some words? Honestly, whose character and behavior are we drawn to in this parable?
Have you ever heard the expression, "Oh, that person really knows how to pray?" In our church world today, this expression is almost always referring to a person like the first man in the parable—a person who stands confidently giving thanks to God. Jesus has baited the hook. He is intentionally drawing us toward the first man in the parable.
Now it is true that we might be tempted to accuse the first man of hypocrisy or, at the very least, arrogance. But please recognize that in the parable Jesus does not accuse the first man of hypocrisy, or even arrogance. After all, the person simply prays the truth. The person simply proclaims, "I thank you God that I am not a robber." How many of you listening today are robbers? "I thank you God that I am not an adulterer." Hopefully, most of us listening today are not adulterers either. He prays, "I thank you that I am not an evil—doer." Please notice that he doesn’t claim to never do evil, but just that his life isn’t characterized by doing evil. How many of you listening today would characterize yourselves as evildoers? In sum, the man is simply praying the way we might pray today, thanking God for our blessings and for the fact that he has kept us from gross sins.
The attractiveness of this first man is not only found in what he does not do, but also in what he does. We read that he fasts twice a week and he gives generously, a tenth of all he gets, to the Lord. This is attractive, is it not? The spiritual discipline of fasting is strongly encouraged in many Christian traditions. And who wouldn’t want a fellow church member to give a tenth of all she earned to the church? Quite simply this first individual would not only fit into most of our churches today, he would be welcomed, admired and held in high esteem. Jesus has baited the hook.
And so, we desire to be like the first man. We crave his status. We especially crave such status if we find ourselves off in the distance with the second man—the sinful man, the man beating his breast and begging for mercy. We desire to be like the first man. We take the bait and then Jesus sets the hook. Jesus declares, "I tell you that this man (the tax collector, the sinner), rather than the other (the Pharisee, the presumed righteous man) went home justified before God." What?! How can this be? This doesn’t sound right—doesn’t seem right—to our modern sensibilities. How can the sinner be justified while the presumably righteous man is left empty?
Let me use myself as an example. When I am bluntly honest with myself I find that more often than not I behave like the first man in the parable. I identify more naturally with the person confidently standing in God’s presence thanking him for the person he has made me to be. The first man’s behavior is very familiar to me, for I see it in myself. I know how to play the role of the presumed righteous man of God. I am after all a pastor—a senior pastor even—with people reporting to me, looking up to me, hearing God’s word from me, presuming that I belong and that I am righteous. I am in the church all the time. As the gates of the temple swung wide open for the Pharisee, so the doors of the church swing wide open for me. Most people do not classify me as an evil—doer or associate any other heinous sins with me. I pray comfortably in church. I usually stand, and not in the distance, in some far off place, but right up front and center. Some of you, like me, find yourself naturally in the place of the Pharisee.
But thankfully you are not all like me. Some of you, in fact, may more naturally associate with the tax collector. Perhaps you find yourself slinking around in the shadows of your sin, figuratively beating your breast; sure that God will never hear your prayer or never accept your presence in his house. But I imagine that if you do identify with the second man, you probably wish that you could be more righteous like the first man in the story. You may very likely beat yourself up with guilt, thinking that if only you could do better, be better, be more accepted, than perhaps God would forgive and welcome you into his presence.
But, "no", Jesus says. Wherever we find ourselves today, Jesus comes and reminds us that it is not our human position or status or lack thereof that wins us forgiveness. In other words, I will not be justified because I am a preacher who confidently prays in the center of church any more than another person will be condemned because they can only hang their head at a distance. Jesus has set the hook by showing us in parable form that whenever our focus is on our position, status, or works, we are lost.
Lest we miss the point, the parable is framed for us—enveloped with Luke’s words as narrator at the beginning and Jesus own words of summary at the end. Luke introduces the parable by telling us that Jesus told this parable "to some who were confident of their own righteousness." So Luke is telling us that if we find ourselves among those who are self—confident, thinking we are better than others, then this parable is a warning that our supposed status won’t get us anywhere with God. Next, Jesus himself concludes his parable by reinforcing the truth that exalting ourselves won’t work. "Those who exalt themselves will be humbled," he says. So Jesus is telling us that if we crave the exalted status of the supposedly righteous, we are craving the wrong thing and will be disappointed. Instead, Jesus says, "Those who humble themselves will be exalted." In sum, Jesus wants us to crave humility not status.
As we now come to the end of Jesus’ fishing excursion, I hope we have allowed ourselves to be hooked by Jesus. I hope we have seen that our craving for status, even religious status, will leave us unfulfilled unless we humble ourselves. The key isn’t how well we can pray, how often we pray, where we pray, or even what others think of us as we pray. The key is humbling ourselves before God.
I trust that Jesus has reeled you into his boat today. Are you ready to embrace Christ, humbling yourself in his presence, giving up your craving for status? If so, he is ready to take you off the hook and release you to the freedom of humility in his presence.
Let us come before God humbly in prayer, once again like last week, using the Lord’s Prayer as our guide. Let us pray:
Our Father who is in heaven, Hallowed be your name;
Your Kingdom come;
Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Let all God’s people say, Amen!
Paul DeVries
Rev. Paul DeVries, most commonly referred to as “Pastor Paul”, is the Sr. Pastor of Brookside Christian Reformed Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He is married to Diane (nee Vanden Akker) and the father of four children. He graduated from Calvin Theological Seminary in 1989 and served for 12 years as the pastor of Unity Christian Reformed Church in Prospect Park, New Jersey. As a pastor his first love and greatest joy comes in the honor of bringing God’‘s Word to his congregation on a weekly basis through his preaching. He enjoys reading, camping with his family, watching his children’‘s sporting events, and working on home improvement projects - inside and outside his home.
More >>
