Only one way to be justified

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Sermon for Trinity 11

1 Corinthians 15:1-10 + Luke 18:9-14

2+2=? 5? 3? 10? No, 2+2 always equals 4, and only 4. In mathematics, as in many areas of life, there are many ways to get something wrong, but only one way to get something right.

So it is, too, in the article of doctrine called “justification.” There are many ways to get it wrong, and only one way to get it right. In today’s Gospel, the only text in the whole New Testament where Jesus Himself uses the term “justify” in the context of the sinner’s justification, Jesus uses a parable to highlight two ways of approaching God, one that works, and one that doesn’t. But, as we’ll see in a moment, the way that doesn’t work, the “Pharisee’s way,” actually has many variations to it—and none of them work—while the way that works, the “tax collector’s way,” remains simple and unique.

In the New Testament, many groups of people are described as enemies of God, but no group is depicted as the villain as much as the Pharisees. There’s a reason for that. The Pharisees were, at that time, the most powerful, the most respected, the most revered leaders of the church. And they weren’t interested in the one way to be justified before God that Jesus was preaching. They had their own way, a different way, and were promoting it within the Church of God. And that was a real danger to the people of Israel, because if a pagan prophet had come to Israel and told them to worship one of the Greek or Roman gods, they would have all told him to take a hike. But when the leaders of the Church are the ones leading the people away from God, their preaching ends up leading many astray. And so, once again, Jesus shows the people that the way of the Pharisees was the wrong way.

He spoke this parable to certain people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and who despised others. Why were they convinced that they were righteous? Because, like the Pharisee in the parable, they hadn’t committed the “big bad sins,” like adultery, like extortion, or murder. And because they did the “big good deeds,” like tithing and fasting. And so, when they compared themselves with the worst of the worst, like that tax collector over there, they came out looking pretty good. They thought of themselves as basically good people, righteous people.

And the more righteous they saw themselves as being, the more they despised the people who weren’t as good as they were. At the same time, the more righteous they saw themselves as being, the less they felt they needed from God. In fact, as I’m sure you noticed, the Pharisee in Jesus parable, who is representative of such people, didn’t ask God for a single thing in his prayer in the temple. He didn’t go to the temple to receive anything from God, but to boast to God about how good he was, and, surely, to feel even better about himself because he did the good work of going to the temple and praying in the first place. Yes, he had a lot to be proud of before God. So he thought.

The tax collector in the parable represented a very different group of people. He was unquestionably guilty of some of those big bad sins, like extortion, using his position as an agent of the Roman government to force his fellow Israelites to pay more taxes than they actually owed, and then pocketing the difference. Oh, the tax collectors were scoundrels, and were despised by the decent citizens of Israel.

But this particular scoundrel wasn’t proud of his sins. On the contrary, he had come to recognize how bad he was, how lost he was. And so he went to the temple, not to boast before God, not to pretend he was sinless, but to confess his sins before God in repentance, and to beg God for mercy. O God, be merciful to me, a sinner. He knew he was unrighteous, and loathed himself for it, and was sorry for it, and looked to God to graciously provide him with the righteousness that he lacked.         

The result? I tell you, this man, Jesus says, the tax collector, went down to his house justified rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted. The tax collector went home justified. Forgiven. Pardoned, declared righteous and innocent by God, the Judge. The other man, the Pharisee, wasn’t justified. Wasn’t forgiven. Remained guilty before God, the Judge. This parable ought to silence all those who insist that God forgives everyone, or has already forgiven everyone. Well, that’s contrary to what Jesus says here in this text, isn’t it?

Why wasn’t the Pharisee forgiven or “justified”? Didn’t he work hard to lead a decent life? Yes, he did! He worked harder than most, in fact. His life was clean, by a superficial reading of the Ten Commandments. But, as Jesus revealed on other occasions, the typical Pharisee also ignored other commandments, like showing mercy, like approaching God in humility, and having genuine love toward his neighbor. The Pharisees brought all the required sacrifices, but as God says, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” Their heart wasn’t in their obedience, and the Judge knew it. Only complete obedience to God that flows from genuine love and mercy could ever earn the Judge’s acquittal. But the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable didn’t even seek God’s acquittal. He trusted in himself, that he was righteous.

Now, in our modern setting, Pharisaism is still very, very common. But it takes a few different forms, none of which lead to justification, pardon, or forgiveness. We’ll mention a few different forms of it here.

Pharisee #1 is very much like the Pharisee at the time of Jesus. He lives an outwardly good and decent life. He goes to church regularly. He gives good offerings. He trusts that he’s done enough good to get into heaven, and most people would look at him and agree. The last thing he wants is to share eternal life with those bad people out there who haven’t worked as hard as he has. “I’m not perfect,” he says, “but I’m about as close as a person can get.” “What do you want from Me?” God asks. “I want You to look at how well I’ve done, how hard I’ve tried,” Pharisee #1 replies. But with such an attitude, Pharisee #1 will not go down to his house justified.

Pharisee #2 also thinks he has done a pretty good job at keeping God’s commandments…as he has redefined them according to his own personal beliefs. He honors his father and his mother and those in authority over him; he just doesn’t think a nation’s government has any right to manage its own borders. He doesn’t “murder,” he just supports a woman’s right to kill her unborn child. He doesn’t “commit adultery,” he just believes that men should be able to marry men, and women women, and “sex outside of marriage isn’t technically adultery,” and so on. In fact, Pharisee #2 pats himself on the back for being so tolerant, for being so “loving” toward other people (even as he despises those people who aren’t as tolerant as he is). “I’m not perfect,” he says, “but I’m a pretty good person, a lot better than those intolerant Bible-thumpers.” “What do you want from Me?” God asks. “I want You to look at how well I’ve done,” Pharisee #2 replies. But with such an attitude, Pharisee #2 will not go down to his house justified.

Pharisee #3 is the demanding kind. He expects and demands a place in heaven, just because he exists. He’s so righteous in his own eyes, it doesn’t matter what he does, or how he lives. He just knows that, if God is a good God, then He couldn’t possibly send a person like him to hell. “What do you want from Me?” God asks. “I want a place in heaven, just because. No, I won’t repent of my sins. Why should I?” With such an attitude, Pharisee #3 will also not go down to his house justified.

Pharisee #4 looks a little different. He doesn’t boast about much. No, he admits he’s a poor sinner. But he’s pretty proud of one thing: He boasts about his faith, about his decision to make Jesus his Lord and Savior. He puts his confidence in that decision he made. “I’m a miserable wretch,” he says, “but I’ve got this one thing going for me. *I* am a believer.” “What do you want from Me?” God asks. “I want You to look at how well I’ve done, in making Jesus my Lord and Savior,” Pharisee #3 replies. But with such an attitude, even Pharisee #4 will not go down to his house justified. Only the tax collector will.

Well, what is this path toward justification and forgiveness that the tax collector found? What is the way that actually works? The tax collector viewed himself in the mirror of God’s holy Law and found himself wanting, lacking the righteousness that he needed to stand before God. He looked at his sins and lamented them. He went to the temple, not to brag, not to offer excuses, not to justify himself. No, he went for one reason alone: because he knew that, while God is a righteous God, a just God, a jealous God who punishes sin, the same God had also promised to be merciful to all who came to Him for mercy in His temple. So the tax collector went to the place where God had promised to be merciful, and looked to God for mercy. “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

In other words, the tax collector put his faith in God, and in God’s promise to be merciful to all who looked to Him for mercy in His temple. He didn’t “put his faith in his faith.” He didn’t hold up his faith as something that made him worthy before God. He certainly didn’t hold up any of his works. But he did believe, he did have faith in God’s promise. He did approach God, seeking the promised mercy, and trusting that it would there for him, as promised. He went down to his house justified.

This is what faith is, what faith does. And that’s why faith justifies. Because it looks to God for the mercy He has promised. And that mercy was purchased for us, made available to us, at great cost—at the cost of the blood of Christ, who, as Paul said in today’s Epistle, died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and was buried, and rose again the third day, so that we don’t have to redeem ourselves, so that we don’t have to purchase or earn God’s pardon. Jesus earned it for us. And when we “go to God’s temple,” which is Christ, within His Christian Church, and when we seek God’s mercy for Christ’s sake—when we seek His absolution, His pardon, His justification that He offers through holy Baptism, through the Lord’s Supper, through the mouths of His ministers, He gives it. He pronounces it, every time. “I forgive you,” He says. “I pardon you,” through all these means of grace.

“What do you want from Me?” God asks. There’s only one right answer to that question, only one answer that will spare you from hell and bring you safely into heaven: “I want the mercy You have promised to poor sinners for Christ’s sake. Nothing more, and nothing less.” If that’s your answer, if that’s what you seek from God, then know for certain that you, like the tax collector, will go down to your house justified. And if you’re justified in this life, then you will also participate in the life that is to come. Amen.

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