Luke 18:13–14

With the Pharisee it was himself, his character, his deeds. With the tax collector, it was the confession of sin and of his need of propitiation. The word translated "be merciful" means "be propitious." How full of meaning verse 13 is! His position: "afar off," showing he knew he had no right to draw near. His attitude: not lifting his eyes to heaven — heaven was no place for a man like him. His action: he "beat his breast," confessing that he was the man who deserved to be struck. His words: "me, the sinner," for it is the rather than a here.

Our Lord makes the tax collector, praying in the temple and convicted of his sin, cry out, "God be propitiated toward me the sinner!" The translations generally give "be merciful," and it is hard to see why. "Be propitiated" is the natural force of the words, and the place where the tax collector stands is so bound up with propitiation. In the temple the smoke of the sacrifice never stopped going up. The mercy-seat, God's throne in symbol, spoke of the same thing.

The Pharisee and the tax collector do not set out the doctrine of atonement, or of justification by faith. They set out the certainty that self-righteousness is displeasing to God, and that lowliness because of our sin is most acceptable in His sight.

There was the poor tax collector. God had spoken to his soul. Instead of looking to find other people as bad or worse, he can only say, "God be merciful to me the sinner!" It is not just "to me a sinner." For many years I have been struck by the great beauty of that expression: "God be merciful to me the sinner, if ever there was one. I know my sins and they are so overwhelming I do not think about others. God be merciful to me the sinner; me only."

He belonged to that corrupt and hated class who collected the Roman taxes, and so helped along the oppression of his suffering people. But now he stood in the presence of God, and he felt deeply how sacred the place was and how unfit he was for it. He might well beat his breast, for the heart is the spring of all evil. Man since the fall has been corrupt root and branch. The tax collector did not think about the Pharisee, or whether he was better or worse than himself. His own evil overwhelmed him as he tried to measure it in the light of God.

The only hope of the tax collector was in God Himself. He was very ignorant, no doubt, but he had the right spirit to get at God. Light had broken in and shown he was a sinner. He bowed to that painful conviction and confessed the truth of his state to God. God's mercy to his soul was all he had to fall back on. He dared not appeal to justice. He did not ask God to be indifferent to his sin. He asked for the mercy that measures the sin and forgives it. The revelation of grace had not yet come in. The work of reconciliation was not yet done. So the tax collector stood "afar off." If God brings a soul to a sense of sin now, it need not, and ought not, stand afar off.

The lamb burning at that moment on the altar in the temple court shows how God can be propitious to the guilty. The altar and the sacrifice speak of Christ and His cross. We have it from the Lord Himself that the tax collector went down to his house justified rather than the other. That is to say, the one was justified and the other was not.

The Lord of all declared: "I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other." That is to say, the tax collector went home justified, and the Pharisee did not. This is the very opposite of all human thoughts. By human standards, the religious and generous Pharisee should have received the blessing. The corrupt tax collector should have been driven away. But it is never so with God. This is a clear case of the kind described in Romans 4:5-6 of righteousness credited apart from works. But on what fair principle is God able to deal like this with the guilty? Let us note it carefully and reverently — it is the blood of Jesus (Romans 3:24-25; Romans 5:9).

He was not violent and corrupt like other men. He was not even like the tax collector, whom he cannot mention without a hint of contempt — "this tax collector." He then displays his own habits of fasting and his strict religious rule-keeping. He made no false claims. He did not shut God out. But he trusted in his own righteousness as his ground of acceptance, and he made nothing of anyone else's. He never saw his own sins in the sight of God.

The evil is not just his sins. It is his religion. Nothing blinds him and other men more. Nothing dishonours God more. The poor tax collector, on the other hand, has neither clear light nor peace. But he has at least reached the starting point of all true light. He has learned enough of God to condemn himself. "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom." He alone of the two judged things according to his little light. He judged himself truly, and was therefore in a moral condition to see other things rightly.

The sense here is not absolute justification but comparative justification. It is like Judah's words in the Greek Old Testament of Genesis 38:26: "Tamar is justified rather than I" — that is, more righteous... Every variation proves the intended sense: the tax collector was justified in comparison with the Pharisee.

It does not mean the tax collector was justified more than the other. Such comparative justification would be of little comfort to a man in his condition. What counts before God is the whole question... Righteousness is credited to the man who most plainly disclaims all righteousness of his own. It is certainly not credited just because he admits he is a sinner. It is credited because God has provided for sinners a propitiation for sin, and his faith appeals to its value before God, however weakly.

The Pharisee and the tax collector do not set forth the doctrine of atonement or of justification by faith. They set forth something certain: self-righteousness is displeasing to God, and lowliness because of our sin is most acceptable in His sight. The Pharisee does not set God aside. He "stood by himself and prayed: God, I thank you." But then he thanks God for what he is, not for what God is. The only hope of the tax collector was in God Himself.

In one sense men cannot humble themselves. They are sinners already, and cannot go lower. A saint can. True humility is forgetfulness of self.