Luke 18:9-14 · The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector
Broken and Beautiful
Luke 18:9-14, Psalm 51:1-19
Sermon
by Bill Bouknight
Loading...

If I were to call you a "broken" person, you would probably resent it. But the Bible says that a certain kind of brokenness is essential if we are to be close to God. That late Southern humorist Lewis Grizzard could tickle the funny bone of almost anybody. But when he wrote about his father, he could make you cry. His father was a soldier, a veteran of World War II who returned to military duty in Korea. There in brutal warfare against the Chinese, Mr. Grizzard, Sr. saw more suffering and horror than he could bear. He came home a broken man. The disease of alcoholism took him to an early grave. That kind of brokenness is tragic and heartbreaking. All of us are broken by sin to some degree. That is, we have inner flaws that only God can heal and correct. That kind of brokenness is sad, too. Ah, but there is another kind of brokenness that is absolutely beautiful. King David described it in Psalm 51: "The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."

There is a certain beer company whose trademark is a wagon pulled by a team of majestic Clydesdale horses. I enjoy this company's Christmas commercials; how I wish they were advertising a better product. Those Clydesdale horses are the epitome of strength and power. They also represent beautiful brokenness. Those horses are utterly subservient to the will of the driver. They do not "do their own thing" or willfully pull in any direction they choose. They march in majestic tandem, following the direction of their driver.

That is "brokenness" in the biblical sense. It means to renounce self-will so as to serve the will of Christ. It means to be like clay in the hands of our God.

King David uttered Psalm 51 as a heart-felt confession, following his indictment by God for adultery and murder. Despite his failings, David is described by the Bible as "a man after God's own heart." But consider David's predecessor, King Saul. Compared to the sins of David, Saul's failings seem minor. He was guilty of incomplete obedience. But his punishment was awesome when compared to David's. Saul's throne and God's Holy Spirit were taken from him. Why the difference in punishment? Saul's confession was half-hearted, much more a rationalization, full of excuses. Saul was more concerned about what other people thought than what God thought. He begged the prophet not to tell the people. Saul reminds me of a major college basketball coach whose school was found guilty recently of ten violations of NCAA rules. The coach offered lots of excuses like these: It's impossible to monitor all of the people involved. Some of the violators were not even fans of ours. We spent lots of our own money investigating and reporting most of these charges. Nowhere in the interview was there a simple confession and expression of regret. King David, by contrast, when confronted by his guilt, said simply, "I have sinned against the Lord." That is beautiful brokenness...no excuses, no rationalizing, no game playing. David was sorry for his sin, not just sorry that he got caught or that other people would find out.

One day Jesus slanted one of his parable-stories at those people who were convinced of their own righteousness and regarded other persons with contempt. I wonder if that describes us. Jesus, the master storyteller, paints a classic portrait of two men at opposite ends of society, religiously and socially, who came to the Temple to pray.

One was a Pharisee, a man who was part of the most religiously devout group in the country. He came to the temple three times each day to pray. Show me someone so devout that he or she leaves the workplace three times per day to come to the sanctuary for prayer. Let's nickname this Pharisee "Holy Harry."

The Jewish law of that day required that the faithful give 10 percent of their income from crops and livestock to God's work. Holy Harry went beyond that; he gave 10 percent of all his income. Methodists and Baptists would fight over such a man. Jewish law required that the faithful fast or go without food just one day per year. Holy Harry did it two days per week. He was a religious over-achiever. Holy Harry stood at the front of the sanctuary, off to himself. He glanced around at the other worshippers; some he eyed with contempt. Then offered a prayer which if translated into modern terminology would sound something like this: "0 Lord, how thankful I am that I'm not loitering on some street corner, a no- count drug abuser, or living off welfare. I thank you that I'm not a homosexual or an abortionist or New Ager or Hollywood pagan. 0 Lord, it's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way."

But there was another man in the temple that day, said Jesus. He stayed out in the remote area, the Court of the Gentiles, not feeling worthy to come into the sanctuary. He was a tax collector- --which meant that he was an unpatriotic thief and extortionist. He was so broken by his recognition of his failings that he could not bear to look upward to heaven. Instead, he beat his breast in pathos, crying out, "0 God, be merciful to me. I am a sinner." That is beautiful brokenness.

Jesus said that Holy Harry's prayer never got above the ceiling. But that broken tax collector's prayer set so many bells to ringing in heaven that the angels had to cover their ears. The tax collector went home that day as a forgiven and redeemed person. Beware when the world labels us as successful; then pride and self-sufficiency make us less able to be broken and beautiful. The late Bishop Robert Goodrich said that when he was a pastor in Dallas, he had some laypersons who were so self-righteous that they had to hold onto the pews to keep from ascending.

There are some come to church primarily to see if the air-conditioning is too high, the organ too loud, or if there is a typo in the bulletin. I don't know that for sure, but I have suspected it over the years. God is more offended by the arched back, the stiff neck, the haughty eyes and unteachable spirit than he is by the homosexual or prostitute or murderer. Those who get tripped up by the sins of the flesh usually know they are sinners. But those of us who are respectable often find it difficult to acknowledge our true condition and the needs of our hearts.

Proud people focus on the sins of others; broken people know their own spiritual needs.

Proud people need to prove they are right; broken people are willing to yield the right to be right.

Proud people claim their rights with a demanding spirit; broken people yield rights with a meek spirit.

Proud people desire to be served; broken people are willing to serve others.

Proud people have an attitude which says, "The church is lucky to have me in it." But broken people feel this way: "I don't deserve to have any part in this ministry. O how good of God to include me."

Proud people keep others at arm's length; broken people are willing to be vulnerable and close to others.

Proud people have a hard time saying, "I was wrong and I'm sorry." Broken people are quick to confess and are genuinely repentant.

Proud People, in a conflict, wait for the other person to apologize; broken people take the initiative to reconcile, regardless of who was at fault.

Proud people don't believe they need revival, but are sure everybody else does. Broken people continually sense their need for a fresh encounter with God.

Proud people compare themselves to others and feel superior; broken people compare themselves to the holiness of God and beg for mercy.

The late Scotsman William Barclay told about traveling by train from Glasgow, Scotland to London. As they passed through the Yorkshire moors, he noticed a little whitewashed cottage. It seemed to shine with almost a radiant whiteness. A few days later Barclay made the return trip to Glasgow. In the interval, snow had fallen and was lying deep all around. He noticed again the little white cottage, but this time its whiteness seemed drab and soiled and almost gray, in comparison to the virgin whiteness of the driven snow.

Our level of righteousness may seem high if we compare ourselves to certain other people; but when compared to the absolute holiness of God as we know him in Christ Jesus, we are simply soiled sinners.

Bishop Ed Tullis recalls a particular prayer meeting he attended while a boy growing up in Kentucky. He says that the experience almost turned him against prayer meetings. The preacher asked everyone to stand. Then he said, "All those who have ever taken a drink of liquor, sit down." Lots of folks sat down. Then he said, "All those who have ever played cards, sit down." Lots more sat down. Then he said, "All those who have ever gone to a dance, sit down." By this time everyone was seated except for one man. He just looked around and smiled. But everyone knew that this man was an adulterer and never paid his bills. The preacher had just failed to name his sins. That incident tells something about the preacher too. When we write the sin list, we usually include the sins of others and omit our own. But God knows all of our dirty linen.

The closer we get to God, the more broken we will be. Only the broken folks can be filled with God's Spirit and used for his purposes. God can fill only that person who has some available space. If we want revival to break out in Christ Church and all over Memphis, we must be beautifully broken for Jesus.

The Chaplain to the U.S. Senate, Lloyd J. Ogilvie, recalls a woman who said to him, "I've been a church member for years, but it wasn't until my arrogant religiosity was broken by an unsolvable problem in a relationship with my son that I had to go back to the cross for grace to sustain me." When was the last time you grieved because your sin caused nails to pierce the holy flesh of Jesus? When was the last time you admitted a fault to a Christian brother or sister and asked that person to pray for you? When was the last time you admitted your insufficiency to the One who is all sufficient? When was the last time you shed a tear of awesome gratitude for the cross?

The great English preacher Leslie D. Weatherhead reminds us in one of his books that Jesus labored in a carpenter's shop for twenty years. In his breast a fire was burning which grew brighter and hotter each day. How eager he must have been to get on with his divine mission! But first he had to be broken. So he melted glue, swept up shavings, and searched for nails. He was meek and lowly in heart. He put himself under discipline. And when he was broken enough, he marched out of Nazareth to become the Savior of the world. And one day on the trash heap outside Jerusalem, this Jesus, the perfect God-man, broken and beautiful, allowed his body to be broken for sinners like you and me.

Are you broken enough to allow Christ to mold you like clay? Are you broken and beautiful?

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Bill Bouknight