Lord, Have Mercy

Lord, Have Mercy

Philippians 2:1-11

Luke 18:9–14

“For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” — Luke 18:14

Jonathan Edwards was a major voice during the Great Awakening. His best-known sermon was entitled, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God!” - and that title may tempt us to assume that Edwards was a “fire-and-brimstone” kinda preacher, but such an assumption would actually be wrong. Edwards was known to be a humble, soft-spoken man. His sermons were learned, and he literally read every word, rarely looking up from his manuscript. Yet, countless people were deeply moved. Some to tears. Many to repentance.

Edwards wrote that gospel humility comes not only from fear of judgment, but also “by a discovery of God’s holy beauty,” which breaks our hearts because of our rebellion against Him. He goes on to say that through this gospel humility, we are transformed… our affections and priorities are inclined towards God… and we’re “brought sweetly to yield, and freely… with delight to prostrate [ourselves] at the feet of God.” (Religious Affections 1746)

In other words, we humble ourselves before God in gratitude, because we are grateful for His great love towards us… and that gratitude draws us into a right relationship with our Creator.

God’s Word tells us tells us, “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble” (James 4:6 and 1 Peter 5:5).

So… in my simple way of thinking… it stands to reason, and good sense, that if you want to grow in the grace of Christ, you must be willing to humble yourself before the Lord: out of respect, certainly! But, even more so, out of pure gratitude.

Of course, alongside faith in Christ, humility before God is a primary qualification for spiritual growth. And it’s not optional. If we ever intend to truly follow Jesus, then we must strive to live like Jesus… to emulate our Lord, who humbled Himself, by taking on the nature of a servant, and being obedient even unto death on the cross. (Phil. 2:8)

In our Lesson for today, Luke shares Jesus’ parable to those “who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else.” The prideful, in other words. It’s a warning that’s just as relevant today as it was when Christ first spoke it. The greatest obstacle to salvation, for most, is not outward sin, but inward self-righteousness. We sometimes begin to think more highly of ourselves than we ought.

The Pharisee stood proudly in the temple with impeccable religious credentials. His prayer was filled with the personal, singular pronoun “I”: I fast… I give… I am not like other people. Though he appeared devout, his heart was consumed with himself. He believed God owed him acceptance because of his religious performance.

The tax collector could not have been more different. He stood back, at a distance, unwilling even to lift his eyes toward heaven. Overwhelmed by his guilt, he beat his breast and prayed only seven words:

“God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

God, have mercy on me...

God, have mercy...

His prayer contained no excuses, no comparisons, and no claims of merit. He appealed solely to the mercy of God.

Jesus then delivered one of the most astonishing statements in all of Scripture:

“I tell you that this man (the tax collector - the despised sinner), rather than the other (the Pharisee, the righteous one), went home justified before God.”

Justified—not because he had lived a better life, but because he trusted in God’s mercy rather than in his own righteousness.

I hope we all understand that this is the very heart of the gospel. We’re not accepted because we’re moral enough, religious enough, generous enough, or sincere enough. We are accepted because Christ lived the righteous life we could never live and bore the judgment our sins deserved. The righteousness that justifies sinners is not earned; it is received through faith alone, by grace alone, in Christ alone (Romans 3:21–26; Philippians 3:8–9).

The Pharisee left the temple exactly as he entered—full of himself and empty of grace. The tax collector left forgiven because he came empty-handed. As the old hymn declares:

“Nothing in my hands I bring, simply to Thy cross I cling.”

Martin Luther wrote during the reformation of the Church, “God creates out of nothing. Therefore, until a man is nothing, God can make nothing out of him.” The gospel begins where pride ends.

Maybe we should ask ourselves: When I come before God, am I tempted to present my accomplishments... or am I quick to confess my need? Am I trusting in my ability, my work, my performance or in Christ’s ability, Christ’s work, Christ’s obedience?

Every single believer, whether we’ve professed faith in Christ for 9 minutes, or 90 years, is compelled by necessity to continually pray the tax collector’s prayer. “God, have mercy on me!” Our hope has never rested in ourselves; it rests entirely in Jesus Christ.

Come to Him with empty hands. Those who humble themselves before God will never be turned away.