9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed[a] thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ 13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 19:9-14 (ESV)
I study prayer. I write about prayer. But I am not an “expert” on prayer. That is not to say that one cannot become proficient in prayer or learn to pray “better.” But prayer is ultimately the pursuit of a relationship. I can pray eloquently in public. I can pray earnestly at home. I can pray fervently every day. And I will still pursue prayer– “more” “deeper” “better” prayer.
But it can be easy to fall into the trap of thinking that my relationship with God is based on my own efforts. That the “more” or “better” I pray, the more God will listen; the more God will accept me. That is a lie. God doesn’t want my “best.” He wants my all. He wants me to come to Him “just as I am”– not in an idealized version of myself.
Jesus spoke of this kind of prayer in the parable of the Pharisee and the Sinner. The Pharisee knows how to pray eloquently about himself. He is confident in his own righteousness. He does not need to ask God for anything. He really doesn’t need to thank God for anything. He has secured his own righteousness in his own eyes, and he wants to thank God for noticing (and surely rewarding?) his goodness.
We are sinners saved by grace. Yet we often act like sinners saved by our own cleverness in accepting God’s gracious gifts. Sure, Jesus paid a price for our sin on Calvary– but that was nearly 2,000 years ago. We are saved! We are justified! We “get it.” And our prayers are offered up in pride and self-confidence. God will hear us. God loves us. God will be impressed by our discipline and our fervor. When we do this, we are like the arrogant Pharisee in the parable. Such prayers do not honor God. They do not honor the work of the Cross. They do not reflect a right relationship with our LORD and Savior.
However, we are not exactly like the Sinner in this parable, either. If we have confessed our sins, and believe on Jesus Christ, our sins HAVE BEEN forgiven, and we have been justified. We do not need to offer sacrifices or beg for mercy over and over again for our past offenses. Our guilt has been washed away. We come humbly, but we come as sons and daughters of the King– co-heirs with Jesus.
God does not want wimpy, doubtful prayers. He does not want us to waver or hide from Him. He wants us to come boldly to the throne of Grace (See Hebrews 4;14-16). But we do so knowing that it is Jesus’ righteousness that gives us the right and His love that gives us the desire to come. It is the finished work of the Resurrection that makes us confident. We should pray honestly and humbly–whether in thanksgiving or confession of new sins– but with confidence and joy in our restored relationship with God through Jesus Christ.
Let us never forget that we pray to an all-powerful, Holy God, who is also gracious and merciful. We can come with TRUE thanksgiving for what God has done; for who He is; and for who we are IN Him.
“Lord, I thank you that YOU are not like other men and women. I thank you that You have made a way for me to be cleansed. I thank you that no matter what I have done, or what I do, Your love for me never changes. And I thank you that You listen to, and answer my prayers! You are Holy, Faithful, and True.”
How big is God’s forgiveness? I know the Biblical answer: “As far as the East is from the West, so far does He remove our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12 ESV); but sometimes, I add subconscious limits to God’s Grace. Sure, I know He can forgive my sins. And your sins. And even sins that make me shudder. I know that He offers forgiveness to all who call on His name in Faith. But sometimes, I question. I add qualifications–“if only..”–because sometimes, it’s overwhelming to think about the enormity and scope and freedom of God’s Grace.
Often, we see God as the great Judge– and He is–the only one with final authority to judge what is right and wrong; who “deserves” punishment or reward. But Jesus came, not only to be the perfect sacrifice for our Sin, but to demonstrate how much God desires to have us be reconciled to Him.
The Cross is a stumbling block to many. I have some friends who find the cross offensive. They say that if God were truly merciful, He would simply forgive our sins without Christ’s sacrifice–just snap His fingers and say, “we’re all good.” They claim that God is harsh, that He delights in sending people to Hell, or He would’ve found a “better” way so that no one would have to suffer (or repent). But Sin isn’t just a trifling matter. It is not just a “boo boo” or a “whoopsie” when we defy the Sovereign, Eternal God. And it isn’t just a trifling matter to bring justice to a fallen world. Absolute justice without mercy would require that we die in the first instant of our rebellion–the moment we tell a lie; the instant we think a lustful thought; in the very act of taking the Lord’s Name in vain. Harsh justice would mean eternal separation with no second chances; no possibility for atonement; no hope of redemption. And Mercy without Justice is not true mercy. It is a cheap imitation. It offers temporary relief from guilt, without effecting any change.
36 One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and reclined at table. 37 And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, 38 and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. 39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.” 40 And Jesus answering said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.” 41 “A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” 43 Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” 44 Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” 48 And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” 49 Then those who were at table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” 50 And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
The Pharisee in the above story wasn’t looking for forgiveness– nor did He receive it. But the woman who came to Jesus received both forgiveness and blessing. She did not receive it because of the expense of the ointment she used to anoint Jesus’ feet; she didn’t receive forgiveness because her need was so much more pressing than that of Simon the Pharisee; Jesus simply said her faith had saved her. Jesus didn’t refuse to forgive Simon–it’s just that Simon never asked for forgiveness. He wasn’t looking for it. He wasn’t looking for a relationship with Jesus– He wasn’t even really interested in hearing what Jesus had to say. Simon had invited Jesus to show off his own righteousness and get Jesus’ “stamp of approval.” And he didn’t pass muster! The short parable that Jesus told seemed to pass right over Simon’s head. Simon merely “supposed” that someone who had been forgiven more would love more. He didn’t know from experience, because He had never seen a need for mercy or forgiveness– nor the need to extend it to others! He didn’t value Mercy, because he had never desired it. Yet all of the Law and the prophets that Simon had spent his life studying pointed to the very great need we all have to be cleansed from our sins. Simon should have known that God desired “mercy rather than sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6), and that the “righteous will live by faith” (Habakkuk 2:4) Instead, he was trying to live by condemning others and comparing his efforts to theirs, instead of to a Holy God. The sinful woman, in contrast, desired mercy and craved forgiveness. And she got them! Forgiveness from Immanuel Himself, who would soon die to provide complete Mercy and Grace to all!
The Cross shows us the high cost of God’s Mercy– and yet He gives it freely to those of us who don’t deserve it and can never earn it. And He does it without condition. When I ask for God’s forgiveness, there is no form to fill out; no waiting list; no qualification test. And no label, identifying me by what I have done or failed to do; by who I was or who I thought I should have been, or what others told me I was. I am redeemed! I am cleansed– thoroughly renewed! Every time! There is no limit on how much or how often God will forgive me–NONE!
Except. “Aha, here it comes. I knew God would have at least one limit,” my friends would say. It’s not a limit of God’s love or willingness to forgive, but our limit in accepting and passing along God’s forgiveness. God will forgive us. Will we forgive ourselves? Will we withhold forgiveness from someone else God has forgiven? Are we a greater Judge than God? Are we more just? Holier? Harsher?
Today, I want to spend time trying to grasp just how wide and deep and huge God’s Grace is toward us; how free and limitless His Mercy; how infinite His willingness to pardon and cleanse even my chronic pride and selfishness; and His passion for reshaping me and restoring me to be all that He created me to be! I hope you will join me.
36 One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and reclined at table. 37 And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, 38 and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. 39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.” 40 And Jesus answering said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.” 41 “A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” 43 Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” 44 Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” 48 And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” 49 Then those who were at table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” 50 And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
The Pharisees in the New Testament seem to spend a lot of time judging and criticizing everyone. They rail at Jesus for healing people on the Sabbath, they grumble about His disciples not following the ritual hand-washing customs, and they are constantly critical of Jesus for “hanging out” with sinners and undesirables. We shake our heads and lament how narrow-minded they were. But I have to wonder what would happen in today’s world if Jesus were walking among us today. Would He “hang out” at our churches? Would He praise those who spend their time pointing out the hypocrisy of others? Would He be a “social justice” warrior?
Many of Jesus’s miracles were done quietly and without pretense. No one criticized “what” Jesus was doing. No one said, “you shouldn’t be healing people,” or, “how dare you turn water into wine.” Instead, they criticized “how” Jesus did His miracles and what He said about Himself, others, and God. In the book of Luke, we have a story that doesn’t even involve a miracle. Jesus was invited to be the guest of a Pharisee. Jesus didn’t turn down the invitation. He didn’t start out criticizing the host or the food. But when a woman crashed the party– a woman known all around town for her sinful ways–and made a scene, Jesus didn’t recoil in horror, order her to leave, or stop her from making a fool of herself. The Pharisee, believing that he had “unmasked” Jesus as a charlatan, concluded that Jesus didn’t “know” what sort of woman she was. But Jesus, breaking His silence, ended up “unmasking” the Pharisee, instead.
Jesus “knew” what sort of woman made such a spectacle of herself–one who needed compassion and forgiveness. Jesus knew exactly “who” and “what” she was. But He also knew who created her, loved her, and wanted to redeem her to become someone better. Moreover, He knew what kind of man Simon (the Pharisee) was. He started out with a parable about cancelled debt and a question. Simon answered the question correctly, but he had missed the point. Simon “knew” the woman was a sinner; he didn’t recognize that he was a sinner, too! Simon thought he was smarter and holier than Jesus. He didn’t know himself, and he didn’t recognize Jesus as God in the Flesh.
How often I make the same mistake! I think I “know” who God wants me to love and honor– those who say all the right words and wear the right clothes and belong to the right church. But if I want to follow in Jesus’s footsteps, I will have compassion on the people who most need it; I will be ready to forgive those who owe me the most; I will spare judgment where I do not “know” all that God knows about someone else.
It is easy to lift up in prayer those I admire; those to whom I am already close. It is more difficult to pray for those who persecute me, or taunt me about my belief in Christ. It is difficult to withhold judgment about why they may dislike me or why they distrust Christians in general. It is tempting to pray for their “exposure” or punishment, rather than their well-being. It may be unpleasant to spend time with them or take them seriously. But it is essential that I do, with God’s help, what I would not do in my own pride and limited knowledge. Otherwise, like Simon, I am showing only how little I love the one who died for me– and the person I choose to hold in judgment and contempt.
I have a lot of work to do in this area. Just today, I read a news snippet about a political office-holder; one with whom I heartily disagree. My first instinct was to pray that she be ousted from office in the next election, and publicly scorned. And perhaps that will happen. But my first priority should be to pray that she would be protected in her current role as public servant, and that God would give her wisdom and discernment in the months ahead. Not because she is a “better” person; but because Jesus died for her. If she were the woman in this story, would I be another Simon the Pharisee? I pray not.
9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ 13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”
I’m not saying that the above examples are all about presumption, especially taken out of context, but I think it is easy to fall into a dangerous habit of thinking that our will must also be God’s will, and not the other way around. What if God is waiting for me to reach out in Love to my “sinful” neighbor? What if it is MY heart that needs to be changed? What if God’s plan for my life includes cancer– or a miraculous healing from it? What if my response to cancer is an opportunity to show God’s peace? What if God has a better job, or better timing for that job?
I actually had that experience. When I was first out of college, I applied for many teaching positions– nothing was open the first year, and I ended up working at a public relations firm as a proofreader. I was laid off nine months later– just in time to apply for teaching positions again. The “perfect” job came up at my old high school, where they needed an English teacher. I interviewed well, and thought I had the job. But they went with a teacher who had more experience. So I signed up to do substitute work– not what I wanted, but it paid for my room and board, and not much else. It was late January when I got the call. The other teacher had been chronically ill, and they needed me to “substitute” for the rest of the year, with a possibility of a contract the next year. When I arrived, the classes were in chaos. The students were unruly and way behind in their studies. It wasn’t the “perfect” job– it was difficult. But I prayed– agonizing, humbling, needy prayers. I stayed at that position another seven years. Any I prayed through every day. But what if I had gotten the job at the first try? Would my prayers have been as pure, or would they have been laced with presumption?
I pray every day. I read God’s word every day. But I am in need– every day– of God’s mercy, His wisdom, and His Holy Spirit to guide my thoughts. Too often, I presume when I pray– that God will do what I want, that He will see things from my perspective, that He will not ask me to go through hardship or disappointment, or pain.
Our prayers don’t need to be as arrogant as that of the Pharisee in this parable to hold certain prideful presumptions.
“Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner! Give me strength to face the day ahead, grace to share Your Love with those around me, and eyes to see Your hands at work. Thank you for Your salvation, for Your promises, and for Your faithfulness. Amen.”
Pursuing Prayer 