There is a social theory of relativity: we often look at others and determine whether we are “good” relative to those around us. This was evident in our last election cycle, where it felt like every advertisement I saw was aimed at the opposing candidate. An estimate suggests that roughly 40% of the advertisements could be classified as attack ads, while only 25% actually promoted the case for any particular candidate. This has been a tool used, especially when it comes down to a choice between two, to make yourself distinct from the other. We fall into the same trap when we think about righteousness; it is far easier to defend our righteousness when we focus on how unrighteous someone else is. Unfortunately, there is a standard that we should all strive to accomplish. Jesus points this out to us through the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. We see two different ways of approaching prayer: the self-righteous Pharisee, who is quick to point out his wins and the other’s failures, and the Tax Collector, who does not even feel worthy to lift his head in prayer. We cannot sway God by claiming righteousness, because we cannot find it through social media or within ourselves; rather, we find it only by recognizing our need for a savior.
19 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ 13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other, for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 18:9–14.
Our first look at the Pharisee’s prayer shows that he lacked nothing in following God’s precepts. However, the Pharisee’s fundamental error was not in his actions, as he was doing objectively good things like fasting and tithing. Still, he used the spiritual practices to build a pedestal for himself. He begins his prayer with a “humblebrag,” masking a boast in false modesty by reminding God of all he had done according to the law; the Pharisee then looks to the tax collector to measure his holiness rather than looking vertically to a holy God. We can easily fall into this same trap; we can trick ourselves into believing that because we attend church, read our Bibles, or pray daily, we are inherently better than those who do not. When our spiritual practices lead to contempt for others, they stop being acts of worship and become idols. In politics, the campaign ads try to gain support through tearing down their opponent; similarly, the Pharisee tried to gain God’s favor by pointing out that he was not a sinner like the tax collector, and in doing so, he forgets that God doesn’t pick us based on who we think is better, but justifies those humble enough to ask for mercy.
Turning our attention to the tax collector, we see a completely different posture, his head downturned in humility. He understood that he was a sinner, just as the Pharisee pointed out, and came to prayer with that understanding. Jesus points this out because he understands the church is like a hospital; in an emergency room, no one brags about their health, because they know they are sick and need a doctor. The tax collector recognized he needed a spiritual emergency room. The reality of sin is that missing a prayer time doesn’t make you more of a sinner, just as reading scripture perfectly doesn’t make you less of one, because we all equally need grace. With this truth embedded in his core, he stood far off, “would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” In this posture of humility, he makes no excuses, lists no achievements, points no fingers, and relies entirely on God’s mercy. In this way, God’s holiness surrounds this sinner as he calls out to God for mercy. His plea is profound; he asks God to look upon him through the mercy seat of sacrifice. We must understand that justification before the Almighty cannot be earned; thus, the tax collector teaches us how we must come before God, because we bring nothing to our salvation except the sin that makes it necessary. Therefore, understanding that the sinner is holy instructs us that we are made holy not by a perfect personal life, but by being covered by Christ’s righteousness through humble confession.
We examine the tax collector’s posture as he begins to pray; his prayer is short, shows a semblance of desperation, and ultimately reveals profound honesty as he says, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” Thus, he demonstrates that true holiness isn’t the absence of sin, but absolute reliance on God’s grace. The tax collector is the hero of the story because he knows exactly who he is and who God is. He is justified because he humbly threw himself upon God’s mercy, not because he fixed his life. This teaches us that true holiness begins exactly where our pride ends. True humility begins with empty hands ready to receive grace, not with works that earn it. Yet we shouldn’t hear Christ’s words and leave thinking, “Thank God I’m not like that Pharisee”; doing so puts us in the same mindset the Pharisee brought to his prayer. Jesus concludes the story by declaring the sinner justified because of his humility. While the parable initially uses language that leads the hearer to prefer the tax collector’s method, we find that actions are not the important aspect; rather, it contrasts postures: self-righteous, works-driven, or humble and reliant on external justification from Almighty God. This reversal exalts the lowly and reminds us of the proper way to approach the kingdom of God.
Ultimately, Jesus’ statements prompt us to see that the moral outcast goes home justified. In contrast, the religious elite goes home empty, and the church must examine its heart in an age of performative righteousness. We see social media platforms encouraging us to demonstrate our moral identity through performative gestures. We see this kind of performance with influencers and politicians alike, as they try to look the part. However, when a public figure makes a mistake, outrage follows swiftly, and many on the internet quickly condemn them, posting outrage not to help the situation but to signal to their followers that they would never do something like that. Virtue signaling mirrors the Pharisee standing in the temple and praying aloud for all to hear. It turns spirituality into cheap performance for public consumption, rather than an authentic, internal transformation guided by God. In light of this, the church must stop posting our spiritual resumes online and in public spaces. Instead, we should embrace the freedom of the tax collector’s prayer, relying solely on God’s mercy rather than our own track records. The church must create a culture of radical humility within our spaces so we can be a haven at the foot of the cross, so no one has to pretend they are perfect before coming to the table of grace.
