What does the Bible say about looking down on others?

How fatal is the fallacy of measuring ourselves by any other; and we have all done this. "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men: extortioners, unjust, adulterers, nor even as this publican," expresses not only the utter blindness of the religious Pharisee in the parable, but is the fruitful cause of blindness everywhere. Who does not know somebody to compare himself with advantageously or the reverse? It is all false ground to take, and the surest way to be deceived by the enemy of God and of our souls.

The Pharisee and the publican; or tax-gatherer, furnish here, as so often; the contrast which He would present. He is speaking directly to "some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others:" things which naturally go together. The two men in question are shown us going up into the temple to pray. The position that they take is taken before God, not man. As for the tax-gatherer, that is evident; no one would question it. But as for the Pharisee, though he compares himself with the other, yet he is not presented as seeking credit with men in any way: he is self-righteous, but not a hypocrite. That he prays, however, with himself, (or toward himself) shows how little in the presence of God he really is, even while he addresses himself to Him. His actual requests we do not hear; they are of no importance, even if we are to suppose he makes any. The whole of it that we hear is a thanksgiving for his own good condition; and here he forms a class by himself, in advance of those whom he vain-gloriously puts down as "the rest of men." They are "extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or like this publican," — of whom the less he knows, the more he can imagine. But that is only the negative side: positively, it is enough to say, "I fast twice in the week; I tithe all that I acquire" — all my profit. In either case he went quite beyond the law.

This was a shaft levelled at the self-righteousness, not only of our Lord's day, but of every other day also. Two men are represented as going up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican (Luke 18:9-14). If men are real anywhere, surely it is in the presence of God. It is reasonable to suppose that there, if anywhere, men will weigh their words, and speak as their hearts really feel. But what have we here? A man parading his merits in the Divine presence! "God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess." Not one word of thanksgiving or adoration for what God is in His gracious attitude towards men; every word was about himself and his own fancied perfections. What a spectacle is here! A man in the presence of the Giver of all good, yet no favour besought; in the presence of the Judge of quick and dead, and the Searcher of all hearts, yet no sin acknowledged. He asks nothing and confesses nothing.

Then follows another parable of a very different character. It is not the value of persistent prayer, and the certainty of God appearing even for the weakest, no matter how apparently deserted (indeed, so much the more, because of it in His own). We have, further, the moral condition of man illustrated in two ways — a broken spirit with little light but a real sense of sin, and another soul satisfied with itself in the presence of God. "And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican." Not that the Pharisee represents a man who denies God, or who is not a religious man. He is religious, but such religion is the most damning thing about him. The evil is not merely his sins, but his religion: nothing more blinding to himself and other men, nothing more dishonouring to God. On the other hand, the poor publican has neither clear light nor peace, but at least he realises the commencement 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, therefore, was in a moral condition to see other things aright, as God should bring them before him. There was as yet no such privilege known as a purged worshipper having no more conscience of sins. Therefore, the convicted publican is found outside, beating his breast, and standing at a distance, not so much as looking up. It was suitable that it should be so; for Christ's work was not yet wrought, still less applied to his soul. It would have been not faith, but presumption, I do not doubt, at such a time, and under such circumstances, for him to have come nigh. All was in its season. But if God invites a believer now to draw near into the holiest of all, is it not equal presumption for that soul to quarrel with the grace of God displayed in Christ's work of redemption, and to raise questions about its effects for itself? God may, and does, bear with the wound to His own grace; and He has His way of correcting such wrong; but there is no ground in the parable to warrant what is too often founded upon it. We owe it to Christ to resent every misinterpretation which goes to undo what He has done on the cross. The publican before us was not meant to give us a full view of the Christian state, or of the blessings of the gospel, but of a man taught of God to feel his own nothingness as a sinner before Him; and God's estimate of him, in comparison with the man who was satisfied with his state. It is humility founded upon the sense of unworthiness, which is always right as far as it goes. (Verses 9-14.)

Let us consider the Pharisee. I think I see him with his broad phylactery, hastening through the crowded streets, often gratified by salutations of "Rabbi;" stopping now and then at the corner to repeat his accustomed prayer, and out-stripping many a broken-hearted publican. At length he approaches the holy temple. How boldly he enters! How unhesitatingly he walks straight up to the innermost part of the holy place! How erect he stands! How often his eye glances on the gazing multitude, to be sure that he has secured their admiration and esteem! and how scornfully he views the weeping sinners that surround him! Then begins his prayer, "God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican; I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess." Such is the Pharisee's prayer. We are told that he "prayed with himself;" all the resources of self are therefore called to his aid: hence his prayer is full of self — self-exaltation, self-love, self-righteousness. He says, "I thank thee" — "I am not as other men" — "I fast" — "I give" — "I possess." All through his prayer "I" stands most prominent. Self, whatever form it may assume, can never rise above self. He thanks God that he is better than others. How is it that he is better than other men? Is it not that his fasting and alms-giving have accomplished this? Then why thank God? Is it not like Cain's offering of those fruits of the ground that his own hand had cultivated, and which had been matured by Divine aid? Yes, this is the delusion of Pharisaism. It is the cultivation of self, but professedly by Divine help. It is not salvation; it is not the cleansing of the guilty conscience; but the outward trimming of the corrupt tree which cannot bring forth good fruit, and sets at nought the gospel declaration, that "except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."

The Pharisee represents the religious world in its most respectable shape; the tax-gatherer, such as had no character to lose, but whatever he may have been, now truly penitent and looking to God's compassion in self-judgment. How different are the thoughts of God from those of men! A delicate difference is implied in the two forms of the word which we translate "standing" in each case. With the Pharisee the form (σταθείς) implies a stand taken, a putting himself in position, such as one might naturally do in addressing a speech to an assembly. With the tax-gatherer it is the ordinary expression for standing in contradistinction to sitting (ἑστώς).451

Again, the essence of the Pharisee's prayer, if prayer it can be called, is not a confession of sin nor an expression of need even, but a thanksgiving; and this, not for what God had done and been for him, but for what he himself was. He was not, like the rest of men, violent and corrupt, nor even as the tax-gatherer, of whom he cannot speak without a tinge of contempt — "this tax-gatherer." He finally displays his own habits of fasting452 and of religious punctiliousness. Not that he laid false claims; not that he excluded God, but he trusted, as a ground for acceptance, to his righteousness, and he made nothing of others'. He never saw his own sins in the sight of God.

Pride. There are several words so translated in the Greek Testament. The one used here (hyperephania) conveys the sense of a spirit of self-exaltation in a man coupled with the disparagement of others. The Pharisees who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others (Luke 18:9) are flagrant examples, but the Gentiles are not free from guilt in this respect any more than the Jews (Rom. 1:30). This arrogance displays itself in boastful words and vain-glorious deeds, but its origin is within the heart, as is shown by that sentence from the Magnificat: "He scattered the proud in the imagination of their heart" (Luke 1:51). This particular form of haughtiness is obnoxious to God and amenable to His summary judgment, for both James and Peter write that "God resists the proud, and gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5).

The root idea of the word is that of lifting up oneself to show oneself off above one's fellows, a personal puffing up which brings into the condemnation of the devil (1 Tim. 3:6). The full development of this sin of unmitigated arrogance in man was not seen in the Pharisee, but will be fully displayed in the coming "man of sin," the son of perdition, who "opposes and exalts himself" exceedingly against everyone that is called god, or object of veneration: so that he sits down in the temple Of God, showing himself that he is God (2 Thess. 2:4). That great personage having exalted himself to heaven in the folly of pride, will be brought down to hell in swift abasement by the epiphany of the coming in glory of Him who humbled Himself to death, even the death of the cross (2 Thess 2:8).

(V. 3). Having touched upon the lack of unity in their midst, the Apostle, in one short sentence, exposes the root of the trouble. He says, “Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory.” Strife is the endeavour to belittle others; vainglory is the attempt to exalt self in the eyes of others. Anything that is said or done simply in opposition to someone else, or with the object of exalting self, will tend to destroy unity and raise discord. Thus the Apostle traces all discord among the people of God to the vainglory that has self, and self-exaltation in view. Even if we escape the gross folly of seeking to exalt self by boasting in birth, social position, earthly riches, or intellectual abilities, we may easily fall into the snare of spiritual pretension that seeks to exalt self amongst the people of God by means of spiritual gifts.

But notice what is connected with ‘lowly-mindedness’. ‘In lowly-mindedness esteeming one another more excellent than themselves.’ If we have truly learned ourselves in the presence of our Saviour, then we will be the more ready to obey this injunction. Nor are such thoughts limited to the plural. ‘I am holier than thou’ (Isa. 65:5) is in the singular. Our tongues may not utter such words, but our thoughts may tell us, ‘I am more spiritual than that person.’ ‘I spend more time over the Word and in prayer than Brother Blank.’ And so it goes: for we each know the plague of our own hearts. I think it was Spurgeon who said: ‘There is pride of face, pride of place, and pride of race, but the worst pride of all, is pride of grace.’ But not only are we not to esteem ourselves as better than others: but we are to esteem others as better than ourselves: and we will, if close enough to Christ; and if we see ourselves, the person we know best, in the light of His holiness and love.

But notice what is connected with "lowly-mindedness." "In lowly-mindedness esteeming one another more excellent than themselves." If we have truly learned ourselves in the presence of our Saviour, then we will be the more ready to obey this injunction. And let us remember that "one another" is plural. Do we ever think, even though the words may not pass our lips, "How glad I am the meeting where I go is more separate than that group of Christians over there." "Those to whom I belong are better taught in the Word than so-and-so." "We would not do the kind of things those people do." Is this esteeming one another more excellent than themselves? What is this but party-spirit? What is it but sectarianism? And pride linked with party-spirit.

Nor are such thoughts limited to the plural. "I am holier than thou" is in the singular. Our tongues may not utter such words, but our thoughts may tell us, "I am more spiritual than that person." "I spend more time over the Word and in prayer than Brother Blank." And so it goes: for we each know the plague of our own hearts. I think it was Spurgeon who said: "There is pride of face, pride of place, and pride of race, but the worst pride of all, is pride of Grace." And, alas, this is the pride to which the saints are, perhaps, most prone. But not only are we not to esteem ourselves as better than others: but we are to esteem others as better than ourselves: and we will, if close enough to Christ: and if we see ourselves, the person we know best, in the light of His holiness and love.