By Benjamin Stubblefield, Ph.D.
Visiting Assistant Professor of Christian Studies, University of Mobile
Worthy?
Luke 18:9–17
Imagine the Book of Daniel gives us a glimpse of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego sitting around the dinner table, reminiscing about being in the fire of Nebuchadnezzar.
Shadrach chimes in: “Well, you know, I never told anybody this. But the reason we came through the fire is because I sprayed some fire retardant on our clothes that morning.” Then Meshach responds, “You know what else? I never told you guys that I’m pretty sure that fourth guy in there with us was my brother Youshach; he trained with the Babylonian Emergency Rescue Squad. I think he was hosing us down with a fire extinguisher the whole time!”
Of course, that would be silly and disappointing because what the Hebrew children would be doing is taking credit for what God had clearly done. Coming through the fire was not a motive for vanity but an occasion to rejoice in the power of God. That’s what Jesus is getting at in Luke 18. He addresses the tendency within all of us to think we are good enough to accomplish for ourselves what only God can do.
Religious Pride (9–12)
Notice the Pharisee’s position, prayer and performance. Judging by the location of the tax collector (“some distance away” v. 13), we can assume the Pharisee positions himself in the temple’s inner court. He prays aloud, which is unusual in the inner court and would be considered rude. He prays, in essence, “I am so glad, God, that I’m such a great guy.” Finally, he performs above and beyond the call of normal religious duty. He’s proud of the way in which he’s excelled. To sum up, this guy’s autobiography might as well be titled “Humility and How I Achieved It.”
The character Jesus creates here, even though it’s an exaggerated caricature of pride, illustrates a familiar attitude. We can easily slip into the mistake of believing that we get more love from God when we do more things for God. We may never say what the Pharisee says, but the sin of pride, even unvoiced, does the same damage to Christian living.
Godly Humility (13–14)
The foil to the Pharisee is the picture of brokenness. The publican is not in the inner court but on the edges of the court of the Gentiles. He is not confident in his own worth, but he strikes his chest in reaction to his sinfulness. His prayer is not a resumé but instead a plea.
The Lord vindicates that humility, Jesus concludes. In Christian life, God does not take applications. He’s looking for the broken and contrite, the poor in spirit. The divine irony to holy living is the sooner we acknowledge our humiliation, the sooner He begins our exaltation. His grace is made perfect in our weakness. Amen and Hallelujah.
Childlike Faith (15–17)
The parable connects to and informs the next scene. The disciples have the same kind of problem the onlookers have in verse 9: They think our Lord should give His time, attention and blessing to those who are capable. After all, what could a child understand or do for Jesus?
Jesus flips the script. Not only should children be permitted to come to Jesus, but they are our example of the only kind of person who will be allowed to come to Jesus. Like children and the publican, those who are honest, trusting, full of faith and reliant are the proper recipients of the kingdom of God.
It cannot be taken, bought, deserved or gained. The kingdom of Christ is a gift, from Father to child. It is given to those who weep, for “they shall be comforted.” As wonderful as our brothers were in Babylon, the Lord rescued them from the furnace because He is worthy to be praised, not because they were.
We start to turn into Nebuchadnezzars — out of our right minds (see Dan. 4) — when we forget the truth: “It is by grace you have been saved, through faith — and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no one can boast” (Eph. 2:8–9).
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