A sermon preached by the Revd Dr Trevor Jamison
At Saint Columba’s United Reformed Church, North Shields, 26 October 2025
Luke 18:9-14; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Watch the whole service on YouTube
I hope that none of you here today are thieves, rogues or adulterers, but if you are, you’re in the right place. In fact, we even welcome tax collectors here.
The Apostle Paul would have said an “Amen” to that sentiment. Reflecting on his life journey with Jesus he talked about having ‘fought the good fight … finished the race … kept the faith’ and about how he looked forward to receiving ‘the crown of righteousness’ which he believed God had reserved for him. (4:7, 8) At the same time, however, although he doesn’t mention it here in this letter to Timothy, Paul also had “accessory to murder” on his record; that time when he stood by, looking after the coats of others, so that they could get on with stoning Jesus’s disciple, Stephen, to death. (Acts 7:58) With that on his record, what’s a bit of thieving, roguery or adultery?
Anyway, have you heard the one about the religious guy and the non-religious guy who went to the same prayer meeting? Of course you have, because that’s Jesus’s parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector.
‘Two men went up to the [Jerusalem] temple to pray’ (18:10) and things could hardly have been more different. One – being a Pharisee – had the reputation for being very religious; the Reverend Doctor of his day. The other – being a self-employed, money accumulating, tax collector – had the reputation of being greedy, crooked and a political collaborator.
In the temple the Revd Dr Pharisee was ‘standing by himself’ (18:11) whilst Mr Crooked Collaborating Tax Collector was ‘standing far off’ (18:13), perhaps because respectable folk didn’t like to associate with him. Remember how when Jesus associated with tax collectors he received a lot of flak from others: ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ (7:34)
Though both men in the temple prayed, their prayers were very different: one gave thanks to God for his state of righteousness; the other humbly requested God’s mercy. For one it was, ‘I thank you that I am not like other people.’ (18:11) For the other it was a heartfelt, breast-beating ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ (18:13) And the outcomes for the two were also different, for in the parable it is the tax collector who went home from the temple, justified by God, not the religious professional.
It’s hard for us not to take sides in this story, and pretty well always to come down on the side of the tax collector, but things might not be quite that simple. Religious or not, both the Pharisee and the tax collector are people of prayer; and both of their prayers have their strengths well as their weaknesses.
The Pharisee in Jesus’s parable often comes in for a lot of stick. He does so for thanking God that he not like some other people; specifically, thieves, rogues and adulterers. But why all the criticism? After all, if you are not a thief, rogue, or adulterer why not be as grateful as a Pharisee or other person would be? What’s the problem with expressing gratitude to God?
In Jesus’s time, Pharisees embodied righteousness, not only teaching it, but practising it. In his prayer, the Pharisee tells God (and us) that he fasts twice a week and gives a tenth of his income. If you all came to church twice a week and contributed a tenth of your income, neither I nor any member of the church Finance and Property Team would dream of criticising you. Granted, this Pharisee exceeded any of the laid-down requirements of his day for fasting and giving, but that’s hardly the worst thing in the world.
So what’s wrong with his prayer? ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers …’ Appropriately, he addresses his prayer to God. It’s a prayer of thanksgiving, which is quite acceptable. Also, it’s truthful; there’s no false modesty. None of us wants to end up as a thief, rogue or adulterer, so why not thank God if we’re not? If we are any of those things then we can always pray the prayer of the tax collector: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’
Of course, not being thieves, rogues and adulterers does not mean we are perfect; that we are without sin. But then, nowhere in his prayer does this Pharisee claim to be perfect. I wonder if we too often read this parable from one traditional perspective, which demands that people first see themselves as unworthy and sinful – that we have to begin by saying sorry – and fail to appreciate that this Pharisee prays from another traditional perspective, where you begin by giving thanks to God for all of your good fortune in life.
And yet, there’s a problem somewhere. If there wasn’t a problem then Jesus would not have said that it was the tax collector who ‘went down to his home justified’, rather than the Pharisee. Was it that the tax collector prayed a better prayer? I think not. Like the prayer of the Pharisee, the tax collector’s prayer is directed correctly: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ In this, the two prayers are equal and identical. But as for the content, you could as well try to equate apples and oranges. One is a prayer of thanksgiving, the other a prayer of confession, seeking God’s mercy.
Certainly, the tax collector was under no illusions about his character and actions. If he had been, fellow Jews could have enlightened him. Those who made their living collecting taxes for Roman occupiers were widely regarded as traitors, and despised. His prayer then is heartfelt, though it lacks any expression of remorse, or any statement of intent to change his ways. This tax collector is no Zacchaeus, who later in Luke’s Gospel declares he will give away half his possessions and recompense fourfold anyone he has defrauded through his tax collecting practices. (19:8) Unless, of course, this unnamed tax collector in the temple was Zacchaeus, or that meeting Zacchaeus was Jesus’s inspiration for this parable, but that’s a thought for another day.
If there’s too little in the tax collector’s prayer there is too much in the Pharisee’s. I think it goes wrong when he gets personal about someone else: ‘thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.’ It’s one thing to be glad that you don’t fall into the category of thief, rogue, adulterer, or financial agent of the occupying military power. It’s another to regard yourself as superior to another individual, or to other individuals who can be labelled in those ways. The Pharisee cannot see into the tax collector’s heart, never mind into the hearts or life situations of thieves, rogues, adulterers and other sinners; nor can he know the content of his tax-collecting neighbour’s prayer.
Additionally, the Pharisee’s prayer falls short where the tax collector’s prayer excels; confession. Standing by himself, insulating himself from others and from God, the Pharisee has nothing to confess, or so he thinks. He has responded to God’s call to lead a holy life, which protects him from doing some bad stuff, but the holy life for both Jews and Christians is supposed to involve actively loving God and actively loving your neighbour.
Jesus didn’t invent loving God and loving your neighbour. Rather, he pointed to it as being the basis of Jewish faith, of the Jewish law which Pharisees sought to interpret in everyday life. When this praying Pharisee saw living a holy life as a reason or excuse to be disdainful of his neighbours, he was falling short of what the law demanded. Because of this he now needed to confess that he could not be regarded as justified before God. He was in need of God’s mercy, but in this prayer at least that particular Pharisee did not see the need to ask for it.
So, having prayed for mercy the tax collector went home justified, says Jesus, but once home, sanctified action would be expected; wealth to be shared and restitution for wrongdoing to be made, just like Zacchaeus did. The Pharisee’s prayer was good as far as it went, but next time, if and when he ever got around to praying a prayer of confession, I hope he included sorrow about being so mean concerning his fellow worshipper.
Now, thinking about ourselves, we would all like to be justified in the eyes of God, and God is ever-ready to work on that basis, despite any and all of our shortcomings; even life’s tax collectors can be sure of that, never mind the thieves, rogues, adulterers, and all the other assorted sinners, which includes me and you. It’s notable, though, that in this parable, both the tax collector and the Pharisee got what they asked for in their prayers. The tax collector asked God for mercy, and he went home justified. The Pharisee asked God for nothing, and in the parable nothing is exactly what he received in return.
So pray to God, because God is always ready to hear your prayers, and to respond to them with justice and mercy. Pray like a Pharisee, giving thanks to God for all that is good in your life, and for all the bad that you have avoided. And pray like a tax collector, ready to confess the times you fall short of what God expects from you, and seeking God’s mercy.
But when you’re praying like a Pharisee, don’t forget to pray with love for the good of all those thieves, rogues and adulterers – your fellow sinners. And when you’ve been praying like a tax collector, and trusting that you have received God’s mercy – which you will – go on to demonstrate your thankfulness for that through actions which demonstrate how much you love God and others.
So, yes, may we pray to God with thanksgiving, may we pray to God for mercy, and then may follow that up with actions that show we mean what we have prayed. Amen.