Have Mercy On Me

Jesus told a story to some people who were sure they were right with God. They looked down on everybody else. He said to them, "Two men went up to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee. The other was a tax collector.

"The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself. 'God, I thank you that I am not like other people,' he said. 'I am not like robbers or those who do other evil things. I am not like those who commit adultery. I am not even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week. And I give a tenth of all I get.'

"But the tax collector stood not very far away. he would not even look up to heaven. He beat his chest and said, 'God, have mercy on me. I am a sinner.'

"I tell you, the tax collector went home accepted by God. But not the Pharisee. Everyone who lifts himself up will be brought down. And anyone who is brought down will be lifted up."


Whenever I read Jesus' words I'm quick to put myself in the right. I'm not like the Pharisee right? I'm not self righteous. I don't draw attention to myself. I always look at this Pharisee as an arrogant sort who wears his Sunday best and stands up with his arms raised to heaven in the middle of the congregation using his best voice to make sure that everyone could hear him, because what he had to say was important.

Then I began to reread the Pharisee's prayer:

"God." Well that's a good start, he really knows who he's talking too. He's taken a position of authority, talking directly to God. "I thank you that I'm not like other people." Wow. That is arrogant if you read it with an attitude of smugness. Now try reading it with an attitude of being genuinely thankful that you're not like other people. I've followed Jesus for 40 years. There have been times where I've looked at my life's stuff and looked at other's life's stuff and I've been genuinely grateful that I don't have to deal with the stuff they deal with. Why is that? "I am not like robbers or those who do other evil things." True. I have not robbed nor do I do evil things. I'm happy that I don't have that stuff on my conscience. There's not been a time in my life where I've "walked away" from God. I've followed the rules. "I am not like those who commit adultery." Funny how this version translates the language. "I am not like". Never inferring he had a stray thought, it's just that he has mastered his passions and isn't like the adulterer who can't seem to master his passions. I've been married for 20 years. I'm not part of the divorce statistics of our day. I'm thankful for that. Then looking around he sees the tax collector, the one whom everyone hated. "I am not even like this tax collector." I suppose it's not hard to feel good about yourself when you compare yourself to someone that everyone else hates. When I place myself next to what people consider the worst of society it's not hard to look good. "I fast twice a week. and I give a tenth of all I get." They guy had his religion down. He knew what to do and how to do it. After 40 years, I too, know what to do and how to do it.

So what happens if I read this prayer not with a smug attitude, but with a genuine attitude of relief that I'm really not the things I am praying about:

God, my soul is relieved that I'm not like other people. I'm relieved that my conscience is clear. I'm relieved that my marriage is pure. I'm relieved that society looks at me with approval and not disdain. I'm truly relieved and grateful that the way I conduct my worship is pleasing. I'm relieved and truly thankful that because of all these things I have value and You, God, can love me.

OK. Maybe I'm stretching things a little bit here, but boy, rewriting that prayer strikes a little too close to home. Perhaps I'm more of a Pharisee then I thought. And maybe, just maybe, I slowly became a Pharisee all in an effort to find value in the eyes of God. I've noticed that much of what motivates me is in an effort to find something in my life that has value. Something that is lovable. Something that I can look at and say, "Here God, see this. This has value, this is worth something, You can love this." And my desire to have value, to have worth, slowly turns me into a Pharisee, comparing myself to others of less value and counting on how I conduct my life to some how make me lovable.

"God, have mercy on me. I am a sinner." Nothing I offer God can be the basis for His love for me. Any value that I have comes from Jesus, not from me. He chose to give me value. I have value because Jesus does love me, not because I have something in me that is worth loving. It is no wonder that the only response I can have to this truth is, "have mercy on me."

So accepting Jesus' love for me is to understand and experience "have mercy on me". To understand that worth comes from Jesus is the point where I can fully embrace and experience love and worth and feel valuable.

God, have mercy on me. I am a sinner.