Good, Not Better (Friday Devotional)

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: ‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’”

- Luke 18:9-14

Imagine you have two gallons of milk. The first expired one month ago and the second a year ago. Both have changed colors and textures to varying degrees, and both smell different than they did back when they were still fit to drink. Yet while neither sounds particularly appetizing, there’s no doubt which gallon is closer to being a viable drink—if I asked you which milk was better, no doubt you’d choose the one-month-old gallon.

But if I were to then ask you to drink it to prove your point, I can’t imagine you’d do so enthusiastically. After all, it may not be as bad as the year-old milk, but it’s still expired! Judging by comparison may tell you what’s better and what’s worse, but it won’t always tell you what’s good.

In the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Jesus shows us that the same principle goes for people. He describes two men, a self-righteous Pharisee and sinful tax collector, total opposites in almost every way, and has only one of the two walk away from his encounter with God justified—but turning expectations on their head, it is the self-proclaimed sinner, not the religious elite, who receives vindication. Many read the parable and draw from it a message about repentance—the tax collector, they say, is a model of how every person should approach God, with the understanding that only His mercy can save them. Those who humble themselves, as Christ said, will be exalted.

But that is only half the message, and we should not forget the other—and the harder—half: those who exalt themselves will be humbled. Jesus told the parable, says Luke, “to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.” In other words, his audience looked a lot more like the parable’s Pharisee than its tax collector. Where the tax collector could hardly bear to enter the temple, the Pharisee strolled right up, confident in his standing with God. Where the tax collector beat his breast with the passion of a desperate man, the Pharisee prayed with calm self-assurance. And most importantly, where the tax collector knew himself to be a sinner, the Pharisee found himself to be righteous.

The Pharisee made a mistake we continue to make to this day, whether with milk or morality—he judged by comparison instead of conviction, by what’s better instead of what’s good. While the tax collector held himself up to God’s standard and rightly found himself wanting, the Pharisee lowered the bar considerably—he compared himself to the worst society had to offer! “God, I thank you that I am not like other people,” he said, “thieves, rogues, adulterers, and even this tax collector here.” Wanting to be considered a righteous man, he found his security in the knowledge that at least he wasn’t one of those people. And yet, Jesus says he did not walk away justified in God’s eyes—he may have been better than the people he held in contempt, but that didn’t make him good.

When we judge people by comparison instead of by God’s standard, we cannot help but break the greatest commandment, to love the Lord with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. We fail to love God because we show that His standards, His character, and His commandments are something we will abandon when they become inconvenient to our agenda, that we’ll find an easier bar to clear when it suits us. And we fail to love our neighbor because when we compare ourselves to someone else, when we say “At least I’m better than him,” we are showing our neighbor contempt instead of mercy, loathing instead of love.

In an age when our media, politics, conversations, and communities are so polarized, Christians cannot afford to seek our own righteousness by comparing ourselves to others. “I’m not bad as him” is not the defense of a sinner saved by grace, but the false prayer of a self-righteous Pharisee, and Christ demands more. So may you look for righteousness where it is found, not in self-serving comparisons, but in humility and grace—because comparing yourself to others may make you look better in your eyes, but only God’s mercy can make you good in His eyes.