Trinity 11
Lamb of God, Pleasant Prarie
August 19, 2012
Luke 18:9-14
Grace, mercy and peace....
Dear Christian friends from Lamb of
God, what a joy to be with you this morning. Many of you know me, as
our lives have touched somehow along the way. I've served as a
pastor in Racine for the last 13 years, and my children have attended
your school. As I look around I see many familiar and friendly faces
here, and I thank you for having me here this morning. If you'd like
to hear more about my new work as an LCMS missionary to Singapore,
please stop by for the presentation following the service. I look
forward to telling you more at that time.
You know, looking at the texts for this
morning, a common thread jumps right out (as if often does in the
lectionary). And that theme is this: There are two kinds of people
in the world.
In the Old Testament reading, you have
the contrast between Cain and Abel. Some are more like Cain. Some
are more like Abel. And in our Gospel reading, we see the contrast
of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. Some are more like the one
than the other.
It's pretty obvious that we want to be
the one kind and not the other. The contrast is instructive as we
explore the different aspects of these two kinds of people.
The Pharisee – the good, upstanding,
holy man. The guy who follows all the rules. A pillar of the
community. A role model of decency and godliness. A man respected
for his stature in all of Israel.
And then there's the Tax Collector –
the symbol of all that is wrong in the Roman empire. A turncoat to
his own people, notoriously corrupt, growing fat on the backs of
others like a parasite on a dog's behind. You want to really insult
someone, call them a tax collector. Ouch.
And when the Pharisee prays, he says
what everyone thinks about the tax collector, “Lord, I thank you
that I'm not like that guy over there. What a sinner he is. Blech.
But me, I tithe on my income, and I fast twice a week.” Or today
he might say, “I go to church every Sunday. I keep up with my
offering envelopes. I pray before meals and read my bible once in a
while. I don't do anything too terribly bad, and I try to be nice to
people...” and the self-righteous self-deception goes on and on.
But the tax collector, he knows his
hands are dirty. He prays, far away – looking down – beating his
breast. The sense of sorrow and shame is palpable. Here is a man in
touch with his sinfulness. And he prays, admitting and confessing it
to God, even as he asks for mercy. No flowery words. No
high-phalutin' mumbo jumbo. Just, “God be merciful to me, a
sinner”.
And God is. Because of Jesus Christ
who shed his blood for sinners and tax collectors of every kind and
flavor of sin – yes, even for pharisees, yes, even for you. No
matter what your sin, how small or big, how deep or dark. There is
no stain so foul that the blood of Christ cannot wash it away.
Christ Jesus died for sinners. Christ Jesus forgives sinners.
“God be merciful to me, a sinner”.
That's the prayer of a Christian. The prayer of one who is
justified. As Jesus says, only the tax collector went home
justified. The pharisee, not so much. Not before God, but only in
his own mind, in his own little world he had created. He didn't see
any sin in himself, so what is there to forgive, anyway? He didn't
need a savior.
So then there is you – and if there
are two kinds of people in the world, the secret is this – you are
both of these. And so am I. The Old Adam in us is a pharisee.
Self-righteous and self-deluded. Every time we rationalize away our
sinful actions and thoughts and words – every time we pridefully
consider our own works to be worth something before God – every
time we look with disdain on some other sinner, and forget about the
sinner in the mirror. The pharisee in us rears his ugly head.
But what is more important about you is
that you are the tax collector – every time the law of God rubs
your nose in your sin. Every time you are broken down and humbled by
it. And each and every you look to the cross, and the Christ, and
sigh, “God have mercy on me, a sinner”.
It happens when you confess your sins
corporately or individually, and the pastor announces the mercy of
God on you, the sinner. It happens when you gather and kneel and
confess at the rail that this bread and wine is not simply bread and
wine, but it is the body and blood of the God who has mercy on
sinners.
For everyone who exalts himself will be
humbled. By Christ, the righteous judge who will have none of that
self righteousness. The self-righteous man will finally be found
un-righteous, unjust, and judged of the sins he never confessed nor
believed were forgiven.
And everyone who humbles himself will
be exalted, in Christ. Christ who regarded the lowly offering of
Abel, made in faith. Christ whose mother Mary was also regarded,
though a lowly handmaiden. Christ, who regards you, his lost and
condemned creature, now purchased and won with his holy precious
blood, and innocent suffering and death.
Christ, in his state of exaltation,
will have mercy, exalt all his people at the resurrection on the last
day. Even lowly tax collectors and sinners. Only lowly sinners like
you and me.
No comments:
Post a Comment