Understanding God and Self

Luke 18:1-14

Welcome! How many of you have ever had to judge? If you have ever been on a jury you should raise your hand. If you are a parent you should certainly raise your hand. I think all of us at various times and in various ways are called on to judge, to make a decision about guilt or innocence or to decide what is appropriate going forward in some issue involving people. 

 

Today we look at two parables from Luke 18, and I would argue that both of these involve a judge. In the first parable this is very obvious, but if you think about it, you will see that it is also true in the second. The Old Testament has some powerful advice for judges that I think is as relevant today as it was when it was written, so I thought we would look at this first before going into our main passages today. The passage I want us to consider is from 2 Chronicles 19, and it involves the actions and instructions of Jehoshaphat king of Judah.

Jehoshaphat lived in Jerusalem, and he went out again among the people from Beersheba to the hill country of Ephraim and turned them back to the Lord, the God of their ancestors. He appointed judges in the land, in each of the fortified cities of Judah. He told them, “Consider carefully what you do, because you are not judging for mere mortals but for the Lord, who is with you whenever you give a verdict. Now let the fear of the Lord be on you. Judge carefully, for with the Lord our God there is no injustice or partiality or bribery.” – 2 Chron. 19:4-7

When I read this, I am reminded of a video clip I saw this week on CNN in which presidential candidate and Senator Marco Rubio is absolutely grilled by a reporter over his beliefs that abortion is wrong in all cases, even when rape or incest is involved. I want to be absolutely clear that I am not endorsing any candidate for political office, but I bring this up because the reporter, at the end of the clip, says, “Don’t you think this is deserving of an answer that is definitive beyond your faith?” He goes on to espouse a classic example of scientism, excessive belief in the power of scientific knowledge and techniques, arguing that science can answer the question of when human life begins. He repeatedly says, “That’s your faith. That’s your faith. That’s not science.” But the question is not a scientific question; it’s a moral one. The question is whether it is right or wrong to abort a preborn child. This reporter’s attitude is 180 degrees away from that of Jehoshaphat, who, again, says, “Consider carefully what you do, because you are not judging for mere mortals but for the Lord, who is with you (“with you” meaning He is there watching and judging you, not that He is automatically on your side) whenever you give a verdict… Judge carefully, for with the Lord our God there is no injustice or partiality or bribery.” The bottom line is that when you abort a preborn child you are ending a human life, a life that, unless it tragically ended early through other, tragic, circumstances, would have gone on to live and grow and experience the same kind of life that you and I live. There is no way around the fact that a decision to permit abortion is a decision to allow people to be the ultimate kind of judge and grant life or death to a human being not for anything they have done, but for other, unrelated reasons. I don’t see how this can be viewed as anything but the greatest kind of “injustice.”

And so Jehoshaphat established what were, in effect, civil (not religious) courts throughout the land. Jehoshaphat went further, also defining religious courts: 

In Jerusalem also, Jehoshaphat appointed some of the Levites, priests and heads of Israelite families to administer the law of the Lord and to settle disputes. And they lived in Jerusalem. He gave them these orders: “You must serve faithfully and wholeheartedly in the fear of the Lord. In every case that comes before you from your people who live in the cities—whether bloodshed or other concerns of the law, commands, decrees or regulations—you are to warn them not to sin against the Lord; otherwise his wrath will come on you and your people. Do this, and you will not sin. – 2 Chron. 19:8-10

But note that even in the civil courts, judges were to make faith-based decisions; that is, they were to see themselves as under God’s watchful eye and understand that they would someday give an account to God for the decisions they had made. Our culture seems to find it harder and harder to understand this – that if faith is to mean anything at all, it should influence every aspect of how we live, certainly including the decisions we make. Rubio argues a similar point at the end of the clip, saying that people should want politicians to have their positions and beliefs motivated by their faith.

(Here is the clip: http://www.cnn.com/2015/08/07/politics/marco-rubio-abortion-republican-debate-gop/index.html.)

Well, our first parable today concerns a judge in one of these civil courts. This particular judge does not make faith-based decisions, not by a long shot. Let’s look at the passage, starting at Luke 18:1.

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’ – Luke 18:1-3

Now I’ll come back to the first sentence a little later – this parable and the one after it, our two parables for today, I think are unique in that they have a preface that explains the reason Jesus gave them. We’ll come back to the preface, but first let’s look at the judge.

This was almost certainly a civil judge, much like the ones Jehoshaphat had appointed all those centuries ago, but this man certainly did not follow Jehoshaphat’s instructions. Actually in New Testament times such judges were not appointed by religious authorities but by Herod or the Romans. Much like Herod, they were often chosen because, like Herod, they were Jews but they didn’t hold any allegiance to the Jewish leadership. Now some magistrates had basically 9-to-5 jobs, but a few, at least in Jerusalem, were basically “on-call” 24-7. As such, working at strange hours, without an audience present, these judges often worked alone and were pretty much accountable to no one for their actions. Edersheim in his classic book The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah says that their official Hebrew title was Dayeni Geserot, meaning judges of prohibitions or judges of punishments, but the Jews liked to change a letter and speak of them by the witty title Dayeni Geselot, meaning robber judges. The derogative term likely referred to how they were believed to be taking bribes on a widespread basis. Similarly, in other towns, police or other officials were elevated to the role of judge, Dayeni Demegista, village judges, and the Talmud and other early sources frequently describe how they were quick to pervert justice for even a small bribe. How far they were from Jehoshaphat’s ideal!

Our particular judge “didn’t care what others thought” – literally, this is that he had no shame. That is a very powerful statement when you remember that we are talking about a guilt and shame-based culture here. That is, this judge was shameless – he already had a terrible reputation, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care a bit about impartiality. Such a man is the last person in the world you want to be your judge.

Our second character in the parable is a widow.  Widows were very vulnerable in Jesus’ day – in fact, you see the early church do something quite radical when they helped provide regular distribution of food to the widows in their new community of faith. Now in Bible times, women did not go to court – a man needed to go on a woman’s behalf. But this poor woman had no such person available, so she went to the judge with the horrible reputation because that was all she could do. Now the Old Testament is filled with verses that talk about not only not defrauding a widow, but showing mercy and kindness to one. To not do so would make God angry. And yet that is exactly the situation here. 

Now this woman came to the judge, and he refused her plea. So she came again, and he refused again. So she came again, and again, and again… she “kept coming” – that is, she was relentless. What effect would this have on the judge? Does it move him morally? No. But by being such a continual bother, as we will see, she appealed to something else in him – basically, his desire for peace and quiet! Here is verse 4:

“For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’” – Luke 18:4-5

Is this a humorous parable? Absolutely! The “come and attack me” is quite literally beat me up with bruises, that is, to make him black and blue. It’s not in the parable, but I picture an old lady with a large rolling pin that she is holding up in the air. “You better help me, or so help me, you’ll regret it!” she shouts. And so this cold, uncaring, miserable excuse for a judge is moved to action because the thought of her doing this forever makes him despair. It’s a funny picture – it’s meant to be. 

And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” – Luke 18:6-8

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. – Luke 18:1

I’ve included verse 1 here to remind you of the way in which the whole parable is framed. So what are we to conclude? That God is like that horrible judge? Absolutely not! As I have mentioned before, parables are not allegories. 

But if God is not like this judge, then why are told to keep on praying until God gives us what we want? Ah… that’s not what it says, is it? It may sound similar to you, but the meaning is actually entirely different. The phrase “not give up” doesn’t mean to keep persisting in a specific prayer request, but to lose hope, to give up on God. It means to lose faith in Him, to stop believing that He cares about you and what you are going through. 

This is why the parable ends with “However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” The question is who will still have faith when He comes? In other words, this parable is as much about holding out until the second coming of Christ as it is about anything else. For those of us whose lives in this world end before this happens, the question is whether we will persist in trusting God through the end of our lives. I am reminded of the martyrs who pray in Rev. 6, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” The answer was “A little longer.” 

We need to always trust God “a little longer.” The Day will come when all will be made right, but that day is “not yet.” The parable is an example of what in Hebrew is called Kol v’Chomer: if that much, then how much more. If this horrible excuse of a judge made things right with this widow, how much more can we trust that God will make everything right? Therefore, keep praying, keep in relationship to God, and do not give up. 

The last sentence is haunting – because it implies that many, even most, will give up. Let us not be numbered among those who do. May God make it so.

Let’s consider the second parable. This also begins with a preface.

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘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 and give a tenth of all I get.’ – Luke 18:9-12

Now I know you have heard this parable many times; most of you could basically tell me the rest of the parable more or less from memory, but I encourage you to think on it freshly. By the way, the parables were designed to be easy to memorize – this way they could be spread in a society in which beliefs and values were still largely spread through oral transmission, retelling the story orally.   

So again, we get the preface. It is to those who were confident that they were good. Because of this, they thought others were not as good as they were. In our own flesh, this kind of thinking is almost inevitable when we compare ourselves to others and conclude ourselves as better. When I think of the phrase “confident of their own righteousness” I am reminded of a video someone in one of our association of churches made when they interviewed a cheerful female college student. They asked her one of the questions we have often used historically – if you were to die today what would be the probability that God would let you into heaven. Most people who are not believers give answers like 50%, 60%, maybe 70%. Believers, if they really understand the gospel, often say 100% because they realize it isn’t about them anymore, but about God being faithful to keep His promises. Anyway, this college student cheerfully and confidently replied “one hundred percent!” Watching the video, I was encouraged, because, I thought, here was a true believer. Well, the interviewer asked the typical follow-up question, “If, after dying, you stood before the gates of heaven and were asked why God should let you in, what would you say?” Again, I expected her to talk about the gospel, that it is by grace we are saved, not by works, or maybe she would mention John 3:16, for God so loved the world that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. But without any hesitation, she cheerfully replied “Because I’m a good person…” and she went on from there talking about the good things she did do and the bad things she didn’t do. I was so shocked at her confident answer that I actually shouted “No” at the computer screen. (This is not something I do with any frequency.) 

But this Pharisee in the parable is like this, although probably not so pleasant and cheerful. He goes off by himself, most likely to a central place close to the front so people can see him. Recall Matthew 6:5, from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.”

Listen to this Pharisee’s “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 and give a tenth of all I get. It’s only barely a prayer at all. He doesn’t even say, “Thanks God, for making me so great.” No, he says, “Thanks God, that I am so great.” What is he actually thanking God for? It’s not clear to me. What is this man actually thinking? I love what one commentator wrote about this: “Clearly, God’s program could hardly advance without this man’s contribution.” And he also wrote: “After reading his prayer, we wonder whether God should apply to be his assistant!” 

Now I make fun of this guy, but I have heard tamer versions of this again and again when asking questions like the ones I described earlier. When you ask many people why God should let them into heaven, they say because they haven’t done any really bad things – they haven’t murdered anyone, for example. Is this really that different from the Pharisee’s “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers”? No, not really.

I like to compare this prayer with a pattern some evangelical groups have proposed by the acronym ACTS. “A” stands for adoration. Does this guy adore/worship God? No, he adores himself, but that doesn’t count. “C” stands for confession. Does he confess his sins? No, but he presumes to confess the sins of everyone around him. Again, that doesn’t count. “T” stands for thanksgiving. Is he thankful to God for anything? He uses the word “thanks” but as we said, He is not really thanking God but simply stating his own awesomeness. And finally “S” stands for supplication, which is a big word for your requests from God. Does the Pharisee actually make any requests of God? No – he’s got it all covered; he doesn’t need anything from God. (At least that is what he thinks.) 

By the way, the fasting twice a week was something a lot of Pharisees did. They did it on Monday and Thursday, according to other ancient sources, and “coincidentally” Monday and Thursday were the biggest market days and had the biggest crowds, so you could throw ashes on your head and look spiritual while fasting in front of the most people. Again, from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: “When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.” – Matt. 6:16. 

Finally he said he tithed, gave a tenth, of everything he got. Jesus brought this up in Matthew 23:23 and Luke 11:42, where He said that they tithed even their mint and dill and cumin. The Greek words imply they are talking about the seeds. Can you imagine tithing these tiny seeds? All dressed up in your nice robes, pouring out your bottle of spices you just bought at the marketplace, and going one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine- and then ten, putting the tenth speck aside? This is just ridiculous!

Now we see this as ridiculous, but the Pharisee did not. It is important not to put our own cultural interpretation on top of this passage. This Pharisee, though proud as a peacock, truly believed that he was righteous, and that each additional righteous-looking thing he did put him in even better standing with God. It is important to understand that this person was every bit as self-deceived as the college student I told you about earlier. 

But let’s move past the Pharisee and look at the tax collector. As a reminder, tax collectors really were, in most cases, bad people. They extorted people, using thugs and other criminals, in many ways more like a mafia than not, and often made money in other “sin enterprises” such as prostitution. A modern day equivalent might be the drug-based violent gang culture that unfortunately presides in so many inner cities. But, for some reason not understandable to this Pharisee, this actual tax collector has entered into the Temple with him. He so obviously is a part of this dark culture that the Pharisee is even able to point him out in his “prayer.” What’s he even doing here? Let’s find out…

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” – Luke 18:13-14

The tax collector understands that he approaches a holy God, someone who a sinful man has no right to even approach. He stood far away. He doesn’t lift his eyes, but beats his breast (stethos in Greek). The beating of the breast occurs one other place in Scripture: at the death of Jesus.

It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.” When He had said this, He breathed His last. The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, “Surely this was a righteous man.” When all the people who had gathered to witness this sight saw what took place, they beat their breasts and went away. – Luke 23:44-48

What happened here? Well, the people, seeing the darkness and hearing of the temple curtain, and witnessing Jesus’ commitment to the Father even at the moment of death, realized that they had committed an unthinkable, terrible atrocity – they still may not have understood who Jesus was, but seeing all these things made them realize that at least this was a man most highly favored of God, and killing Him, who knew what kind of wrath, punishment from God would ensue? They beat their breasts as a sign of most extreme repentance and sorrow. It is this same kind of extreme sorrow that our tax collector demonstrates.

He knows he has no rights, no business even, coming before God. Notice that there’s not even a hint of the comparative attitude that we see in the Pharisee. He probably wasn’t the worst tax collector out there; he could have said “Well, I’m a mess, but I’m not as bad as my friend Joe.” But no, he instead prays the incredibly short prayer, 6 words in Greek, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

Let’s look at the ACTS acronym again. Was there adoration? Maybe not in words, but I would say yes, there was reverence, worship in the way he positioned himself. Confession? Yes, absolutely. He was not specific, but God sees the heart. He admitted himself a sinner. In fact, in the Greek, he calls himself the sinner. He beats his chest, the location of his heart, because out of the heart come evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, etc. (Matt. 15:19). He knows the wickedness of his heart, and he despises it. Thanksgiving? No, there’s no thanksgiving here. That’s OK. He doesn’t know the end of the parable. J Supplication? Yes. There is a prayer request. What is it? Mercy. Have mercy on me. In the Greek, it is more literally “apply the atonement to me.” This is interesting, as it seems to imply that he had the Biblical understanding that the soul who sins must die, that the animals sacrificed all those years for sin were pictures of a transference of guilt to someone who would die for us. “Apply the atonement to me.” Is this not the gospel? Is this not, really, what we are asking for when we ask Christ to save us? The only other place this Greek word appears is in Hebrews 2:17, which says, “For this reason He [Jesus] had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that He might make atonement [that’s where this word appears] for the sins of the people.” Isn’t that powerful?

And this is the gospel message. This is the only way to become reconciled to God, justified before God. It’s not about how good you are. If you are in your own flesh, you aren’t good. Trust me on this. You might not see it, just like that Pharisee didn’t see it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Agreeing with God as to our sinful state and asking “Apply the atonement to me” is how we find salvation in Christ. 

And the passage ends with the axiom, “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” By the way, the Greek word for justified in this passage is in the perfect passive participle tense, which means that it is a permanent result. I cannot imagine how shocking this parable was to the Pharisees and everyone else who was listening. This extreme sinner permanently justified before God? Not the good Pharisee doing everything right, but this wicked, selfish, man who committed every sin in the book? No way! But yes. This is how the Kingdom works. Because every man is a sinner, “apply the atonement to me” is the only way to enter the Kingdom.  Exalted here means lifted up, brought into the Kingdom. You can’t lift yourself, exalt yourself there. Only God can do that. And it is available to every man, woman, and child on the planet. May we, humble church though we are, do our part to share the great news, and may all who hear it understand, agree, repent, and pray, “Apply the atonement to me.”