Original Meaning

THE UNIT OF Luke 18:9–30 contains three scenes: the commendation of the tax collector over the Pharisee (vv. 9–14), the picture of childlike faith (vv. 15–17), and the rich ruler’s exchange with Jesus (vv. 18–30). In each case, the basic issue is humility or whom will I trust? The tax collector has a humble trust, while the rich man trusts his possessions for his security. In contrast stand the disciples who have left all for Jesus. They receive his commendation as well, and the promise that to those who have faith God gives the richest of blessings, including eternal life.

The parable of the tax collector and Pharisee in 18:9–14 is found only in Luke. It focuses on the type of person God blesses (5:27–32; 7:29–30). What commends a person to God? Is it the qualities that the world emphasizes, like self-sufficiency and social status? This parable is really the parable of the two prayers. In those prayers appear two kinds of hearts, whose contrast is not only seen in the way they make their request, but also in the way they approach God.

The text is explicit about its audience: those “who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else.” “Were confident” is a perfect participle, a tense that indicates a residing confidence that never wanes. “Looked down” is a strong word, which can also be translated “despised” or “rejected” (23:11; Acts 4:11; Rom. 14:3, 10). It is easy to compare ourselves to people who do not measure up to us, at least in our own eyes! The characters in the scene cannot be more different in origin. The Pharisee is a respected religious leader, while the tax collector is viewed as a leech on society and a traitor for working with Rome.1 Given it is a time for private prayer, this event may have taken place at any time of the day.

The Pharisee approaches God boldly and begins what looks like a praise psalm: “I thank you, God.” In this type of psalm, the petitioner usually thanks God for something God has done or some blessing he has provided. But this Pharisee is grateful for himself, that he is not like other sinners, such as robbers, evildoers, adulterers, or even a tax collector. He honors God by fasting voluntarily twice a week (probably Monday and Thursday) and by tithing. Such a fast included only bread and water. Since it is above and beyond the call of duty, the Pharisee wears it as a badge of achievement that should cause God to give him favor. Tithing means that one-tenth of the Pharisee’s earnings went to the Lord.

But this prayer is actually a distortion of the praise psalm, because when the Pharisee is done, his prayer in effect is, “I thank you, God, that I am so great!” In fact, one gets the impression that God should be honored that this “faithful” Pharisee is on his team. Five times in two verses he uses the first person singular pronoun, making himself the major subject of the prayer.2 He even puts down the tax collector praying beside him, referring to him derisively as “this tax collector.”

In contrast, the tax collector does not stand up but approaches God with a sense of distance. He does not look up to heaven, a sign of contrition, but beats his breast, fully aware that he approaches God as a sinner.3 His prayer is different: “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” There is no self-congratulation. There is no summary of his good deeds. There is no sense that God ought to feel honored or obligated to the petitioner. There is but one recognition: his need for God’s mercy. His request for mercy uses a Greek word that in the LXX translates the Hebrew word meaning “to cover.” Its background and use assume that the petitioner cannot earn forgiveness, so he simply makes an appeal for God’s forgiving compassion.4 He comes to God desiring only to improve his relationship to God.

Jesus’ comment closes the passage. He endorses the tax collector’s humility. The one justified before God, the one whose prayer is heard, is not that of the religious man with all of his works. The prayer God hears is the call for mercy. Jesus explains why. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, while the humbled will be lifted up. As I have heard preachers say in a homespun way, “The best way up is down, and the quickest way down is to lift oneself up.” This principle rings throughout this Gospel (1:52–53; 6:20–26; 10:29–37, 38–42; 11:37–41; 12:21; 14:11). Bravado and appearance mean nothing. Résumé and social status mean nothing. Self-reliance means nothing. What counts is a heart that appreciates what God can give. The tax collector, therefore, is the one whom Jesus says goes home justified. In seeking God’s forgiveness, he receives it.

The short passage in 18:15–17 shows just how subtle humility is, while also exhorting the disciples to have faith.5 When Jesus is ministering, many seek to have him touch their little children. The disciples are convinced that babies and toddlers are not important and that such desires are a waste of the Lord’s time. So they try to stop the parents from coming.

Jesus takes the opposite attitude. He invites the children to come to him, because they are important people. They picture what the kingdom is all about. One must trust God with the simple faith and humility of a dependent child. The kingdom is made up of people who display such qualities. How can his disciples regard these illustrations of kingdom realities as unimportant? The disciples still have much to learn. The way we value people is not how God sees them.

Jesus drives the point home by noting that only those who receive the kingdom like a child enter it. Entrance into the kingdom is a matter of humility that recognizes a need for God. What is commended in children is their inherent dependence, for they bring nothing but themselves to the feet of Jesus.

Bridging Contexts

JESUS TREATS THE basic attitudes of humility and pride here (cf. 14:1–12). The values God honors are those whereby we look at ourselves in light of who he is, not through the distortion that comes from comparing ourselves to others. But the attitude of the Pharisee is all too often the rule—that of judging people by sight or simply because of their station in society. This is an unfortunate error, since we often are such poor readers of character. How often does the socially smooth operator turn out to be a moral snake, while simple people turn out to be full of integrity? The text also reveals much about the human heart, for we often approach God himself on the basis of favorably comparing ourselves to others.

The problem of pride is one that rides the centuries. Humility is rare in a society that loves to brag about uniqueness and merit. But merit has a negative side. It can become a manipulative way to invoke a bargaining chip. Rather than approach God on the basis of his mercy and grace, we approach him by appealing to our track record and subtly suggesting he owes us a response. The real danger of pride is that it blinds us to how we really stand before God.

On the other hand, humility takes a sober look at where we stand, never forgetting that the standard of comparison is the character of God himself. We should never lower that bar so that we can easily jump over it. The credit of the tax collector is that he knew where he stood as he approached God. He was not a product of his own achievement, but a result of God’s kindness in extending mercy. This way of approaching God alters radically the dynamic of how we see him, ourselves, and others. Understanding ourselves as the objects of mercy breeds compassion. We do not rate ourselves more highly than we ought, nor do we suggest that God is blessed to have us on our side. The privilege is ours to know him. The attitude of humility rests on his grace; pride is an affront to God.

As with so many texts in the journey section, 18:15–17 also treats fundamental values that a disciple should possess. Jesus honors people regardless of their social status. This is the opposite of what we tend to do, since we often are drawn to the powerful (cf. James 2:1–12). In fact, Jesus sees in these little ones a picture of what we are to be like.

Jesus’ attitude toward these children suggests that they should be studied and appreciated for qualities God honors. In an era when many children do not have both parents, we are not only robbing them of the support God desires them to have, but often in the process we miss lessons about what our walk with our own father should look like. My children often remind me by their responses how important a good father is, and they make me reflect on how good God is to us. Like the disciples, we often ignore the child rather than embrace him or her and thus miss God’s blessing.

Contemporary Significance

THE LESSONS OF 18:9–14 emerge through the contrast of pride to humility. Pride preaches merit; humility pleads for compassion. Pride negotiates as an equal; humility approaches in need. Pride separates by putting down others; humility identifies with others, recognizing we all have the same need. Pride destroys through its alienating self-service; humility opens doors with its power to sympathize with the struggle we share. Pride turns up its nose; humility offers an open and lifted-up hand.

Yet in our assertive society, pride (or at least subtle forms of accomplishment tied to it) often gets the accolades, despite what it does to relationships and character. As I write, there has been a major dispute going on in sports. I live in Dallas, which means the city has a well-known football team, whose goal is to win at all costs. The new head coach, Barry Switzer, asked for and received permission to go see his son play college football on Saturdays, rather than attend the final team meeting the night before the games. The coach explained that his family came ahead of his job. As a father he wanted to show his son how important he was to him. The former head coach, Jimmy Johnson, was a man recognized as a “winner” and criticized his replacement for abandoning the team and risking defeat by distorting team values. For this former coach life was defined by winning, by sacrificing all on the altar of achievement, even wife and family. He already had lost his wife and sons years ago over his pride of achievement to be a winning football coach. But in the game of life, which coach has the distorted and losing values? What is amazing is how many people are blinded into siding with the “winner.” Pride means that the task is more important than the people. The objective becomes the obstacle to human relationships. Jesus condemned pride because it is so insidiously destructive.

Humility is harder to discuss because it does not discuss itself. It simply gets out there and serves, often with sacrifice. It does not claim rights; it tries to do what is right. It does not brag about integrity; it displays it. Sometimes it is easy to miss what does not point to itself. But God sees the humble heart and lifts it up in honor. That is Jesus’ challenge.

In reflecting on this text, we should ask who compares to the Pharisee today. Pharisees can come in many packages. Many pious folk are proud of their achievements and often identify themselves by talking down to others who “do” less. A parable like this applies to them. People with high visibility roles in our culture are also at risk here. They often are praised and put on a pedestal, and an air of invincibility or infallibility surrounds all that they do and say. Insofar as they feel they can learn little from others, something is wrong.

The contemporaneous tax collector might be an almost unseen deacon in the church, who faithfully and honestly week after week serves and never says a word about what he is doing. He will never be up front in the church, nor will he seek to be. He faithfully walks with God and relies on him. Such people are often unappreciated in the church, but God knows who they are. The tax collector may also be someone who is faithful to his or her spouse, fulfills responsibilities, and yet knows when he or she fails to live in a God-honoring way, the best thing to do is seek forgiveness from a gracious God. They do not wear a badge on their shirt that says “religious.” They just try to be faithful to God.

Two points emerge from 18:15–17. (1) This passage calls us to reflect on faith. We should look at a child hanging on its mother’s arm and ask, “Do I turn to my Father in heaven like that?” When life slows down long enough for me to look around, what often catches my eye is a child walking by the side of a parent with a small hand stretched up as high as it can go so his or her fragile fingers can lock onto the hand of Mom or Dad. I inevitably see the child’s feet walking as fast as they can to keep up with the parent’s gait. In that scene is a picture of a child of God. We are to place our hands in his and walk with him at our side, letting him direct our steps. Such humility, trust, and dependence calls on us to seek the face of our heavenly Father and stay close to him as we walk with him.

(2) We should also note the precious nature and importance of children. When I was in seminary, I erred here. I was only interested in the classes that treated adult ministry. Christian youth education courses were required, and I would never have chosen them for myself; they were course hours to be endured. I suspect some people view parenting or even teaching children’s church the same way.

How shortsighted that thinking is! Children are among those most open to God. On our faculty are people whose testimonies include how someone took the time to care for them as a child and take them to church, even when their parents did not go. There they met God and began to serve him. There are more years of ministry in front of a child than any other age group. Children are not an inconvenience; they are the future church. In fact, statistics indicate that most people who have a relationship with God establish it before they leave home for college. Children are often most open to God and less impacted by a culture that draws them away from considering God. If Jesus can take them into his arms, so can and should we.