Be Merciful to Me, a Sinner
A Sermon on Luke 18:9–14
This sermon reflects on Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:9–14). It challenges the hidden ways self-righteousness can infect even our best theology and reminds us that true righteousness begins with humility before God’s mercy.
Introduction
For weeks now, I’ve been arguing that since the beginning of Luke 15, where the Pharisees and scribes grumble because Jesus receives sinners and eats with them, Jesus has been critiquing the Pharisees’ failures, especially their self-righteousness. There have been detours, to be sure, but the central theme has remained consistent.
Now, with this morning’s reading, Luke drops all pretense and subtlety. He writes:
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt (Luke 18:9).
Most Christians wouldn’t immediately recognize themselves in this verse. We wouldn’t think, “Oh, that’s me. Jesus is talking about me.” In some ways, that’s one of the biggest dangers of self-righteousness.
Self-righteousness can be hard to spot in ourselves. Most Christians would say, “I don’t struggle with self-righteousness,” because we’ve learned the correct answers to give, whether we truly believe them or not. But let’s read that verse again:
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt (Luke 18:9).
Most Christians would say, “That’s not me.” But if you ask people outside the church, many would reply, “Oh, yes, that is exactly what Christians are like. They think they’re righteous, believe they have all the answers, and look at anyone who disagrees or lives differently with contempt and disdain.”
There’s a disconnect between how Christians perceive themselves and how the world perceives them—and, generally speaking, others often see us more clearly than we see ourselves.
Two Men in the Temple
Here’s the scene in the parable:
Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector (Luke 18:10).
Tax collectors were among the most despised people in Judah. Not only did people dislike paying taxes, but tax collectors also symbolized imperial control—a constant reminder that the people of Judah were not free. The Pharisees, on the other hand, were highly respected for their strict observance of the Law and their aim to reform and shape society in “positive” ways. The common person might look at a Pharisee and say, “If anyone’s right with God, it’s him.” Meanwhile, they would look at the tax collector and say, “If God opposes anyone, it’s him.”
Now, I realize that no one here would openly pray the way this Pharisee does. We might not say these words aloud, but our actions often speak louder than words. Jesus continues:
The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get” (Luke 18:11–12).
The Contempt of the Righteous
When you consider people outside the church—especially those living in ways you believe are against God’s will—what’s happening in your heart? When you think about the imprisoned, the addicted, the poor, the foreigner, those who are politically “other,” or those whose identities or lifestyles differ from yours, stop focusing on them and think about what’s going on inside you.
We sometimes say, “Love the sinner but hate the sin,” but in practice, that hatred of the sin often ends up resembling hatred of the sinner. “Love the sinner but hate the sin” is a catchy phrase, but in my experience, it’s almost meaningless.
Sinners are ill. There is a disease within them that we all share—the disease of sin. This disease manifests differently in each individual. In some, it appears in socially acceptable ways; in others, in ways we find offensive. But it remains the same disease, and the remedy is the same grace. Looking down on another sinner is like judging someone in the hospital because you’re recovering and they aren’t.
Looking down on another sinner is like judging someone in the hospital because you’re recovering and they aren’t.
Our reaction when seeing those who haven’t yet found the cure Christ provides should be compassion, not contempt.
When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd (Matt 9:36).
When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick (Matt 14:14).
What you don’t hear in the Pharisee’s prayer is compassion. You don’t hear any recognition that he and those he condemns share the same disease and can only be healed by the same remedy.
He might protest, “Wait a minute! I thanked God first! I know it’s only because of him that I’m not like those other people. That’s not self-righteousness—that’s good theology!” It is remarkable how often good theology serves as a cover for self-righteousness.
It is remarkable how often good theology serves as a cover for self-righteousness.
Faith That Bears Fruit
Our beliefs and confessions are worthless unless they bear fruit in our lives. As James states:
What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead (James 2:14–17).
Our words, confessions, and claims to faith—all mean nothing if they don’t align with what’s happening in our hearts and lives.
The Tax Collector’s Plea
In contrast to the Pharisee, listen again to what Jesus says about the despised tax collector:
But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (Luke 18:13).
That’s all we know about him, but it’s enough. The cry of his heart and the cry of his lips are the same: God, be merciful to me, a sinner. His prayer echoes the ancient words of Psalm 51:1.
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions (Ps 51:1).
Simul Justus et Peccator
Martin Luther once said that Christians are simul justus et peccator—simultaneously just and sinner—and he was right. I don’t want to suggest there are no differences between saints and sinners. There are. But they also share similarities.
Sinners and saints share these similarities because there are no “sinners” and “saints” as two separate categories of people. There is only one kind of people. We are all sinners, but some of us, by God’s grace, have found the cure for our disease and are now in recovery. These we call “saints,” but on this side of resurrection, we are always simul justus et peccator.
We should, therefore, like the Pharisee, give thanks to God for bringing us out of darkness and into the kingdom of his beloved Son. Our salvation is a glorious gift, and so he’s not wrong to give thanks to God. But that gift must never cause us to look down on those still in need of God’s healing grace. Instead, as those in recovery, it should fill us with compassion for those still in need of the Great Physician.
The Stakes Could Not Be Higher
I am constantly reminded that Jesus meets the worst kind of sinners with compassion and love. But he speaks to the self-righteous with words of condemnation and judgment. The stakes could not be higher.
I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted (Luke 18:14).
One man recognized first and foremost that he was a sinner. He begged God for mercy, and he went home justified—declared righteous by God, not because of anything he had done, but because he totally relied on divine mercy.
The other man was confident of his right standing before God. He was confident that he had said the right things, done the right things, lived the right way, voted the right way, listened to the right music, watched the right TV shows, and dressed the right way. He was sure that he had done all the right things to have right standing before God, and even thanked God for it.
However, how he spoke about himself and others revealed his true heart. He believed he was just, and they were sinners. But it was the sinner who went home justified.
Conclusion
The only safe place for any of us to stand is with the tax collector—beating our chest, crying out for mercy, and discovering, to our astonishment, that the mercy we seek has already been poured out at the cross.
There, at the foot of the cross, we find the cure for the disease that infects us all. There, the proud are brought low, and the humble are raised up.
May God give us hearts like the tax collector—hearts that recognize our sin, cry out for mercy, and rejoice in receiving it through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Guide for Life Groups
Intro Prayer
Heavenly Father, as we gather together today to discuss your Word, we ask that you would open our hearts and minds to receive what you want to teach us. Help us to be honest about our own need for your mercy and grace. Guard us against the pride that would make us think we have arrived, and give us humble hearts that are quick to listen and slow to judge. May your Holy Spirit guide our conversation and draw us closer to you and to one another. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.
Ice Breaker
What’s one thing you’re genuinely thankful for that happened this week, big or small?
Key Verses
Luke 18:9-14
Psalm 51:1
James 2:14-17
Matthew 9:36
Questions
Fr. Michael mentions there’s often a disconnect between how Christians see themselves and how the world sees us. Why do you think this disconnect exists, and have you ever experienced it personally?
Jesus says the Pharisee ‘trusted in himself that he was righteous and treated others with contempt.’ How can we guard against developing contempt in our hearts toward those who live differently than we do?
The sermon suggests that ‘good theology can serve as a cover for self-righteousness.’ What does this mean, and how can we ensure our beliefs are producing fruit in our lives rather than just correct answers?
When you encounter people whose lifestyles or choices you disagree with, what’s your first internal reaction - compassion or judgment? How can we cultivate more compassion?
The tax collector’s prayer was simply ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ Why is this prayer so powerful, and how can it remain relevant throughout our Christian lives?
Martin Luther said Christians are ‘simultaneously just and sinner.’ How does understanding this concept change the way we view ourselves and others?
Fr. Michael notes that Jesus meets the worst sinners with compassion but speaks to the self-righteous with condemnation. What does this teach us about God’s heart and priorities?
How can we practically live out the truth that we’re all ‘infected by the same disease’ but some are ‘in recovery’ through God’s grace?
Life Application
This week, practice the tax collector’s prayer daily: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ When you encounter someone whose lifestyle or choices you disagree with, pause and ask God to give you His heart of compassion for them, remembering that you both share the same need for His mercy and grace.
Key Takeaways
Self-righteousness is easy to spot in others but difficult to recognize in ourselves.
Our actions and heart attitudes must align with our theological confessions.
All people share the same spiritual disease of sin, though it manifests differently in each person.
The proper Christian posture is one of humility and dependence on God’s mercy, rather than confidence in our own righteousness.
We should respond to others with compassion rather than contempt, recognizing our shared need for grace.
Ending Prayer
Lord Jesus, thank you for this time of discussion and reflection on your Word. We confess that we often struggle with pride and self-righteousness, and we ask for your forgiveness. Help us to remember that we are all sinners in need of your mercy, and give us hearts of compassion for those around us who are still seeking you. May we live each day with the humble cry of the tax collector: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ Transform our hearts to be more like yours, full of love and mercy for all people. In your precious name we pray, Amen.