When is the last time you had an eye exam? Eye care experts recommend that we should have our eyes checked every one to three years depending on age, risk factors, and physical condition (allaboutvision.com). Regular eye exams are important because experts estimate that one in four school-age children have an eye problem that could cause permanent vision loss if left untreated. I don’t know about you but I like being able to see and because it’s been well over three years since I’ve had an eye exam, I better book an appointment soon!
There is, however, an even more vital kind of “I” exam we should be regularly undertaking. This exam is not an assessment of one’s sight but an evaluation of one’s standing before God. Through the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector Jesus describes two such “I” exams: one led to God’s judgment, while the other led to the peace of forgiveness. Let’s turn now to the Tale of the Two “I” Exams.
In this parable Jesus spoke of two men who were complete opposites – a Pharisee and a tax collector. The Pharisees were a religious group that dedicated themselves to keeping God’s laws. They were regarded as shining examples of religious devotion and holy living. Tax collectors, on the other hand, were considered traitors for working for the Roman government. They not only helped the Romans they helped themselves to whatever extra money they could squeeze out of their countrymen and so were despised as nothing less than legalized robbers.
In the parable a Pharisee and tax collector both went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee’s prayer started out well enough, “God, I thank you…” (would that more of our prayers started that way), but he might as well have concluded: “…in my name I pray.” Here’s why. “The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get’” (Luke 18:11, 12).
What did the Pharisee observe when he did his “I” exam? When he inspected himself the word “saint” came to mind but when he scrutinized others the word “sinner” spat from his lips. The Pharisee didn’t think he was like robbers, adulterers, and other obvious sinners like that tax collector in the back. “See me, God? I’m not like him,” the Pharisee said. “In fact, Lord, you ought to thank me. I fast twice a week, a hundred times more than the yearly fast you demand of your Old Testament people. AND I give a tenth of all my possessions not just a tenth of the things you said Old Testament believers were to tithe.”
The problem with the Pharisee’s assessment is that it wasn’t much of an “I” exam. It was a “they” exam. The Pharisee was like the 13-year old who brags about striking out the side at his 7-year old little brother’s peewee league game. Now if he had struck out the side at a Major League All Star game he would have something to brag about, but not for going up against little kids who have a hard enough time hitting a baseball off a T.
Friends, is it our habit to do “they” exams when God calls for “I” exams? Ever smugly comment on how your neighbour’s car is never home on Saturday nights when it’s party time, but is always parked comfortably in its place on Sunday mornings during church? Ever come to an outreach event and ask: “Where is everyone?” annoyed that you seem to be among the few that takes evangelism seriously? Ever piously shake your head at a classmate who is talking back to the teacher? Or have you ever thanked God that you’re not like the self-satisfied Pharisee in this parable?
We may show up brightly compared to the dark background of another’s sin but what do we look like compared to the brilliant background of God’s white-hot holiness? That’s what matters. The tax collector understood this so while the Pharisee thumped his chest the tax collector beat his breast praying: “God, have mercy on me, [the] sinner” (Luke 18:13b).
While the Pharisee boasted about how much God needed him the tax collector confessed how much he needed God for he knew he was a damned sinner. It wasn’t just because enough people had told him so. If a boss were to accuse you of being a worthless employee, you’d be quick to give him examples of how you do contribute to the company’s well being. And so it would have been easy for the tax collector to admit: “Yes, Lord, I have stolen from your people. I’m a sinner…but at least I’m here in your temple to worship!” The tax collector doesn’t mention this “good work” because he knows that it’s not good works that save. Only God saves. And so he cried out: “Save me, God! I’m not like you.”
Jesus tells us that it was the tax collector and not the Pharisee who went home justified, that is, declared not guilty of his sins (Luke 18:14a). By pointing to all the “good” he had done, the Pharisee might as well have said: “Keep your Son, heavenly Father, I don’t need him.” We say the same despicable thing when we think God should smile on us for all the non-worship hours we spend at church, for the neighbour’s lawn we cut for free, or for the extra time we took to listen to a co-worker’s problems. Sure, God wants us to do these “good” things but good things don’t repair the damaged relationship between God and us. If I cheated on my taxes and was caught, would it be acceptable to say to Revenue Canada: “Oh, I’ll make up for it by eating out more. That way you’ll get more from me in the way of GST (Goods and Service Tax).” Revenue Canada would never agree to an arrangement like that. It doesn’t pay for the tax-debt I owe. No, if I want Revenue Canada off my back, I’ll have to fulfill their demands. And so it’s just as cheeky to say to God: “Oh, I know I’m not perfect, but at least I’ve tried my best. You’ll accept me for that, won’t you?” No he won’t. God will accept only those who fulfill his demands for perfection. And if we can’t be perfect, then there’s only one alternative: to be humble. Take to heart what Jesus said at the end of the parable: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 18:14b).
Humility. That’s what God wants. And that’s where we’ll end up if we conduct an honest “I” exam comparing ourselves only to God and not to others. But let me make something perfectly clear. The tax collector wasn’t forgiven because he was humble; he was forgiven because God is merciful. In fact when the tax collector said: “Have mercy on me, God.” He literally said: “Let your payment for sin cover me!” That was the reason the tax collector had come to the temple. Even though he knew he was not deserving to be standing in God’s presence he came to the temple because he knew he would find payment for his sin there. Through the animal sacrifices God provided a way for his Old Testament people to escape his wrath over their sins.
It’s comforting to know that the tax collector wasn’t saved because of his humility. Otherwise we would lie awake at night wondering if we’ve been sorry enough for our sins to be saved. Salvation depends on the sacrifice God offered in the person of his Son, not on our repentance. Let me say that again. Salvation depends on Christ, not on us, our humility, or our confession of sins. If it did, Christ died for nothing!
No, we should never be satisfied with our spiritual life as was the self-righteous Pharisee, but we will be satisfied with Jesus’ pronouncement from the cross: “It is finished!” Jesus has paid for our sins and God the Father accepted that payment. Jesus’ resurrection from the dead proves it! So yes, be ashamed of the sins you commit. Tell God you’re sorry for them. Vow not to do them again. But go to sleep tonight with the peace of forgiveness knowing that because of Jesus everything is right between God and you.
Would you know what the doc would say if you went in to get your eyes checked today? Would he give you a clean bill of health or would he tell you that something is terribly wrong and that you’ll be losing your vision? That would be scary wouldn’t it? Not as scary though as doing an “I” exam and saying, “See me, God? I’m not like him.” When it comes to assessing my spiritual condition I dare not look at anyone other than God and his demands. And how well have I fulfilled his demands? Oh, I may be here in worship today, but haven’t I approached this privilege with a lukewarm attitude again? I may have smiled at my parents this morning but did I inwardly grumble when they told me to take my breakfast dishes to the sink? No, don’t see me, God. Save me because I’m not like you. Save me as you have promised to do through the blood of your Son Jesus. Only then will I find peace. Amen.
