Sunday, August 16, 2026

Sermon for the 11th Sunday after Trinity Luke 18:9–14 — The Pharisee and the Tax Collector

 



The Trap of the Mirror

There is a story about a man who went into an art gallery. He stopped in front of a huge, beautifully decorated mirror. He looked at himself, adjusted his tie, smoothed his hair, and said to his friend, “Look at that. Not bad!”

His friend gently pulled him back and said, “My dear fellow, that isn’t a mirror. It’s a painting of a mirror.”

It’s a funny story, but there is something deeply human about it.

We can spend a lot of our lives looking at the wrong thing.

We compare ourselves with other people. We look around and think, “At least I’m not as bad as him.” Or, “I would never do what she did.” Or perhaps we look at our own lives and say, “I’m a decent person. I work hard. I try to do what is right. I go to church. I help people.”

And perhaps all of those things are true.

But Jesus asks us to look somewhere deeper.

Today, Jesus takes us into the Temple and introduces us to two men.

Two men come to pray.

Two men stand before God.

Two men are sinners.

But only one of them goes home justified.

And that is where the great reversal begins.

The story moves us from comparison to confession, from pride to mercy, and from trying to prove ourselves to simply receiving God’s grace.

There are three things I want us to see today: the Law, the Gospel, and the life that flows from the Gospel.


1. The Law: When Goodness Becomes a Trap

Let us begin with the Pharisee.

It is easy for us to hear the word “Pharisee” and immediately think, “Here comes the bad guy.”

But that isn’t how Jesus presents him.

This man was probably respected in his community.

He was religious.

He prayed.

He fasted.

He gave his money to God.

He tried to live a moral life.

In fact, if we met him today, we might say, “There is a good man. A committed Christian. Someone who takes his faith seriously.”

And yet something has gone terribly wrong.

Listen to his prayer:

“God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all I get.”

Notice something.

He begins by saying, “God, I thank you…”

But before long, he is no longer really talking about God.

He is talking about himself.

“I am not like them.”

“I fast.”

“I give.”

“I do.”

His prayer has become a résumé.

He is presenting his accomplishments to God.

And then comes the most revealing moment of all.

He looks at the tax collector and thinks, “At least I’m not like him.”

That is the trap.

The Pharisee isn’t measuring himself against God’s holiness.

He is measuring himself against somebody else.

And that is something we understand very well.

We rarely say, “Lord, I am perfect.”

Instead, we say, “Well, at least I’m not as bad as…”

And suddenly someone else’s failure becomes the foundation of our righteousness.

We don’t need to be perfect.

We just need someone else to be worse than us.

But Jesus will not let us escape that easily.

The Law of God does not ask, “Are you better than your neighbour?”

The Law asks, “How do you stand before the holy God?”

And when we stand there honestly, we discover something uncomfortable.

We all need mercy.

The problem with sin is not simply that we sometimes do bad things.

The deeper problem is that we want to believe that we can stand before God on our own.

We want to believe that our goodness will be enough.

That our religious commitment will be enough.

That our respectable life will be enough.

That if we can just point to enough good things, we won’t have to admit how desperately we need grace.

But the Law takes away those excuses.

The Law is not a ladder that helps us climb our way up to heaven.

The Law is a mirror.

And when we look honestly into that mirror, we discover that we are not as righteous as we imagined.

Imagine someone drowning in the ocean.

The Law is not the lifeboat.

The Law is the moment when the person finally realizes, “I cannot save myself.”

And that realization is painful.

But it is also necessary.

Because until I know that I am drowning, I will not reach for the lifeboat.

The Pharisee was drowning.

But he was too busy looking at the tax collector to notice.


2. The Gospel: The Prayer of Empty Hands

Now look at the other man.

The tax collector.

He stands at a distance.

He doesn’t even lift his eyes toward heaven.

He beats his breast and says:

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

That’s his entire prayer.

No résumé.

No excuses.

No comparison.

No attempt to explain why he isn’t really as bad as people think.

Just:

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

And Jesus says something astonishing:

“I tell you, this man went home justified rather than the other.”

Justified.

What a beautiful word.

It means that God declares the sinner righteous.

Not because the sinner has suddenly become a perfect person.

Not because he has earned God’s favour.

Not because he has managed to repair his life before coming to God.

He comes with empty hands.

And God fills those empty hands with mercy.

That is the Gospel.

The Gospel is not God saying, “Try harder.”

It is not, “Do more.”

It is not, “Make yourself good enough and then come back.”

The Gospel is God’s word to people who have nothing left to prove:

“I forgive you.”

The tax collector understands something the Pharisee does not.

He understands that he cannot save himself.

And that is precisely why he is ready to be saved.

He doesn’t bring God his achievements.

He brings God his need.

And that is enough.

Of course, we know something the tax collector himself could not yet fully see.

We know where God’s mercy would ultimately lead.

We know the Cross.

We know Jesus.

We know that the mercy of God is not a vague feeling of kindness.

It has a name.

It has a face.

It has hands stretched out upon a Cross.

Jesus takes the place of sinners.

Jesus carries our sin.

Jesus bears our guilt.

Jesus gives us His righteousness.

This is the great exchange at the heart of the Gospel.

Our sin is placed upon Christ.

His righteousness is given to us.

That is why we can stand before God.

Not because we have become good enough.

But because Christ is good enough for us.

Righteousness is a gift.

It is not achieved.

It is received.


3. The Christian Life: Living with Empty Hands

So the Law shows us our sin.

The Gospel gives us Christ.

Now comes the question:

How then do we live?

Jesus gives us the answer at the end of the story:

“For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

This is the great reversal.

The Christian life begins when we stop trying to prove ourselves.

And it continues as we learn to live by grace.

That doesn’t mean we stop caring about how we live.

Quite the opposite.

Grace changes how we live.

But we no longer do good things in order to make God love us.

We do good things because God already loves us.

We don’t serve our neighbour because we are trying to earn salvation.

We serve because Christ has already served us.

We don’t forgive because we are trying to buy God’s forgiveness.

We forgive because we have already been forgiven.

And we don’t come to church saying, “Look, God, at how good I am.”

We come saying,

“Lord, have mercy.”

And then we hear God’s answer:

“Your sins are forgiven.”

Think about how this works in ordinary life.

Imagine a husband and wife have an argument.

The husband knows he was wrong. He said something cruel. He knows he hurt his wife.

But instead of admitting it, he begins making comparisons.

“Well, I didn’t hit you.”

“I work hard.”

“I provide for this family.”

“You do things wrong too.”

And perhaps all of those statements are true.

But none of them changes the fact that he was wrong.

That is the Pharisee in us.

We defend ourselves by pointing somewhere else.

But imagine instead that he stops.

He puts down the excuses and simply says:

“I was wrong. I hurt you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

There is something powerful about those words.

“I was wrong.”

No excuses.

No comparisons.

No pretending.

Just confession.

That is not weakness.

That is faith.

Because confession says, “I don’t need to pretend anymore.”

And that is one of the great gifts of the Gospel.

We don’t have to pretend before God.

We don’t have to pretend before one another.

We can tell the truth.

We are sinners.

And Christ is our Saviour.

Perhaps there is something in your own life that you have been hiding.

Perhaps it is something you are ashamed of.

Perhaps it is resentment.

Envy.

Bitterness.

Pride.

A failure you keep trying to forget.

A relationship you have damaged.

A habit you know is wrong.

And perhaps, when you think about it, you tell yourself:

“Well, at least I’m not as bad as that person.”

But Jesus gently brings us back to the Temple.

Back to the two men.

Back to the prayer:

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

That is where freedom begins.

Repentance is not simply feeling bad about ourselves.

Repentance is turning around.

It is turning away from ourselves and turning toward God.

It is dying to the old habit of self-justification and learning, day by day, to trust Christ.

And here is the beautiful thing:

We don’t repent because we are trying to convince God to love us.

We repent because we already know that He does.

We don’t confess our sins in order to earn forgiveness.

We confess because Christ has already won forgiveness for us.


The Great Reversal

And so Jesus puts two ways of living before us.

The way of the Pharisee says:

“I am good enough.”

“I have done enough.”

“I am better than them.”

“Look at what I have accomplished.”

The way of the tax collector says:

“Lord, have mercy.”

One man leaves carrying his résumé.

The other leaves carrying God’s mercy.

And Jesus tells us which one went home justified.

The great reversal is this:

The person who thinks he has everything discovers that he has nothing.

The person who admits that he has nothing discovers that, in Christ, he has everything.

That is the heart of the Gospel.

So when you come before God, don’t bring your résumé.

Bring your need.

Don’t bring your comparisons.

Bring your confession.

Don’t bring your pride.

Bring your empty hands.

And then hear what God gives you.

Forgiveness.

Mercy.

Grace.

Peace.

A new beginning.

The world tells us that we need to prove ourselves.

Jesus tells us that we are loved.

The world tells us to climb higher.

Jesus comes down to us.

The world tells us to make ourselves righteous.

Jesus gives us His righteousness.

That is the theology of the Cross.

God works through what looks weak.

He saves sinners.

He raises the humble.

He brings the proud down.

He fills empty hands.

And He does it all through Christ.

So perhaps the question for us today is very simple:

Which man are you?

The answer may change from day to day.

Sometimes we are the Pharisee.

Sometimes we are the tax collector.

Sometimes we stand proudly before God, convinced that we have everything under control.

And sometimes we finally reach the end of ourselves and whisper,

“Lord, have mercy.”

And the good news is that Jesus is there in both moments.

He meets the proud with the Law.

He meets the broken with the Gospel.

And He leads us again and again to the Cross.

So let us stop looking sideways.

Stop measuring ourselves against one another.

Stop trying to prove that we are good enough.

Instead, let us look to Christ.

Look at His Cross.

Look at His mercy.

Look at His open hands.

And hear His promise:

“Your sins are forgiven.”

He died for Pharisees.

He died for tax collectors.

He died for respectable sinners.

He died for obvious sinners.

And He died for you.

So go home today not trusting in yourself, but trusting in Christ.

Go home not carrying the burden of having to prove yourself.

Go home forgiven.

Go home justified.

Go home free.

And when you have nothing else to say, you can always pray the prayer of the tax collector:

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

And because of Jesus, you already know the answer.

He is merciful.

Amen.

Let us pray.

Lord Jesus Christ,
we confess that too often we look at other people instead of looking honestly at ourselves. We compare. We judge. We make excuses. We try to prove that we are good enough.

Forgive us.

Take away our pride and give us humble hearts.

Teach us to come before You with empty hands, trusting not in what we have done, but in what You have done for us.

Thank You for Your Cross.

Thank You for Your forgiveness.

Thank You that our righteousness does not depend upon our performance, but upon Your grace.

When we are proud, bring us back to Your mercy.

When we are ashamed, remind us of Your forgiveness.

When we are discouraged, remind us that our salvation rests not on us, but on Christ.

Help us to live as forgiven people: ready to forgive, ready to serve, ready to love, and ready to confess our need for You.

For You alone are our righteousness, our hope, and our peace.

In Your holy and precious name we pray.

Amen.

And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.


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