Once I had a friend who was offended whenever the phrase "we are miserable sinners" was used in the corporate prayer of confession. She did not feel that she was a miserable sinner. And indeed she wasn't in comparison to most of the other people in the church. She was compassionate, kind, thoughtful, and a great teacher of little children in Sunday School. Nor did she "regard others with contempt" -- or at least, not many others. I don't think she liked the phrase in an old hymn, "Would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?" She thought such phrases as "miserable sinner" and "such a worm as I" did nothing to enhance one's self-esteem.

I suppose she had a point. We are much concerned about having a healthy sense of self-esteem in regard to ourselves, and especially for our children if we are parents, or our students if we are teachers. This is as it should be. There are people who have an extremely low sense of their self-worth. Often they try to compensate either by an obnoxious false bravado or an unctuous Uriah Heep groveling humility. Such people need help in raising their sense of self-worth. But this sermon is not addressed to this group, except, perhaps, in an oblique kind of way.

But can self-esteem get out of hand at times? The apostle Paul gave this warning to the Roman Christians and to us: "I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think" (Romans 12:3). Jesus must have known some people whose self-esteem had gotten out of hand and turned into self-righteous arrogance. He addressed this parable "to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt." Their sense of self-worth had taken the bit in its mouth and dashed down the road out of control.

Ironically, one such person revealed the extravagance of his self-esteem in the house of God and in an act of worship. A Pharisee went up to the temple to pray, a commendable act indeed. It is well to go often to the house of worship. An indispensable part of worship is prayer. But the motive for worship and the manner of prayer are all important. For this Pharisee both his posture and the tone of his prayer revealed his self-righteousness.

One translation (NRSV) says that he was "standing by himself." Another (RSV) has "he prayed thus within himself." Both these phrases are highly revealing. If he was standing by himself it suggests an aloofness from other worshipers, especially any whom he considered unclean. If he was praying "within himself," then he was carrying on a conversation with himself rather than communicating with God.

But he did want God to overhear what he was saying. He wanted God to know that he was thankful. "God, I thank you...." That seems to be a good start for a prayer. Don't we often begin a prayer with "O God, I thank you for all your many blessings" without being too specific about what those blessings are? But this Pharisee was quite specific about the things for which he was grateful. He was grateful for those things which he thought set him apart from and above other people. "God, I thank you that I am not like other people."

Then he began to list the ways in which he was different. He evidently had a low estimate of his fellow human beings, for he lumped them under a list of disreputable characters: "thieves, rogues, adulterers." He singled out one of his temple companions as a special example of someone whom he was glad he was not like -- "even this tax collector." A tax collector in the minds of most law-abiding Pharisees was at the bottom of the moral, ethical, and religious totem pole. Such an assessment had good basis in fact. Tax collectors were often notoriously dishonest. They were looked upon as traitors to their own people because they worked for a foreign occupying power, the Roman Empire. They had a reputation for greed and for defrauding the poor. Therefore, the tax collector was an excellent foil for the paraded piety of the Pharisee.

Notice that the Pharisee spent the first part of his prayer telling God what the Pharisee was not. The whole list was negative. He did not thank God for any positive characteristic which he possessed. He wanted credit for himself for not being like other people, especially the tax collector. But at the end of the prayer he put forth a list of two things he did regularly which he was sure God approved. Both were "religious" acts: fasting and tithing, both of which he performed beyond the minimum requirement. "Look, Lord, I am extra good."

Not once did the man mention compassion, or kindness, or service to others. He never said, "I helped a poor beggar who sat by the road," or "I gave some of my income to feed the poor," or "I volunteered at hospice to comfort the dying." But if he had said any of these things, his self-esteem would still have been out of hand. Although his prayer was in the form of "thanksgiving," what he really wanted was God's confirmation that he was exceptionally righteous and therefore deserved God's acceptance. Surely, God was in his debt, not the other way around. There was no hint that he trusted in the mercy and grace of God; rather he "trusted in himself that he was righteous." His theology had no room for "salvation by faith alone." Perhaps he invented the old clichÇ, "It's not what you believe that counts; it's what you do." He could have added, "... and don't do."

Thus far we have almost overlooked the other character in this story except to say that he is in great contrast to the Pharisee. He, too, went to the temple to pray. But his posture and actions showed no arrogance nor pride. Humbly he stood apart from those whom he knew were more righteous than he. He did not presume to look in the direction of God's dwelling place, but stood with downcast eyes. He beat upon his chest as a sign of remorse. He was one of those people whose self-esteem was out of hand in a far different direction than that of the Pharisee. This man's sense of self-worth had hit rock bottom. He had good reason to feel miserable about himself, for he was a tax collector with all the disreputable baggage that weighed down the position. But he looked at himself honestly and made no excuses for his numerous misdeeds.

He prayed briefly, earnestly, sincerely. He made no pretense of giving thanks. He had no list of good deeds that might cause God to look favorably upon him. Nor did he recite a long litany of specific misdeeds which he had committed. One sentence was his prayer, but that one sentence showed more faith and more understanding of the nature of God than the Pharisee's self-congratulatory recital of his piety. "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

That was all. But it was enough. Jesus' verdict: "this man went down to his home justified rather than the other." "Justified" -- that is, accepted by God, made right with God, put in a just relationship with God.

But why? Why was a confessed sinner more acceptable to God than a person who kept the rules and observed the correct rituals of the faith? Doubtless many who first heard this parable asked that question. The tax collector simply threw himself on the mercy of God. He took his own sin seriously. He knew that God is righteous, hates sin, and will bring the sinner to judgment. He knew he could not hide himself from God, and he had no virtues with which to mask his unrighteousness. But he had enough faith in God to believe that God could be merciful, even to him. He had nothing to offer; he had no ground to stand on except the undeserved grace of God. He knew that salvation is not his doing, but that it is a gift of God. He was bold enough to ask for that gift.

Jesus summed up the parable with a saying which must have been a favorite of his, for we find it at the end of another parable in Luke (14:11). "All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted."

Now, where do I find myself in this story? I could pray, "God, I thank you that I am not like this Pharisee, arrogant and self-righteous." But then would I be much different from the Pharisee? Is being proud of my humility more acceptable to God than letting my self-esteem get out of hand? But can I identify myself with the tax collector? Surely I am not that bad. I do consider myself a person of integrity. I am honest, and I do have some measure of compassion for others. But wait a minute. Now I am sounding dangerously like the Pharisee who paraded his virtues.

I think I will go stand with the tax collector and join him in his simple prayer. "God, be merciful to me, a sinner." For while I may not be exactly like him, I do know I am a sinner who has no ground to stand on except the mercy and grace of God.

Come, let us go up to the temple to pray.