Luke 8:9-17: Becoming the Infant

pharisee-and-tax-collector-610x351How can you spot a saint?  What makes him different from everyone else?  For starters, the word “saint” means “holy person.”  So, what do you do?  You examine how someone lives, looking for holiness in his life.

Find someone who doesn’t cheat, steal, or defile marriage.  A saint studies the Bible and may set aside 10% or more of his income to the Lord.  He works hard at living a God-pleasing life.  In other words, look for someone like the Pharisee, whom Jesus tells us about in today’s Gospel.

The Pharisee prays, “I’m not like others.”  He’s not lying.  Not so with the tax collector.  He makes his money skirting the law, cheating on his commission.  The Pharisee didn’t earn a living by cheating.  He worked to be religious, setting aside 10% of his income and fasting twice a week.  I met a few who give 10% of their earnings to church, but I am still waiting to meet someone who fasts twice a week like the Pharisee.

Jesus smashes down the idol of the works-righteous man: The Pharisee did not go home a righteous man.  Despite all his goodness, the Pharisee did not make himself into a saint.  Oh, he remembered everything he did right, but nothing he did wrong.  He refused to believe he needed God or God’s forgiveness.

So, we come to the crux of the matter.  For no matter how you slice it, or what you call it, only two religions exist in this world: The way of the Law or the way of the Gospel.

With the Law, you work your way up to God.  With the Gospel, God comes down to you.  With the Law, you need to earn God’s favor; with the Gospel, God’s favor comes to you, undeserved though it is.  In the religion of the Law, you try to justify yourself.  Not so with the Gospel—God justifies you.

The Pharisee did what he did to try to make himself right with God.  He tried to do what was right, but no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he always fell short.

So, we come to the tax collector.  This truth seeped into the tax collector’s consciousness: no matter how much he tries to do what is right, he can’t survive without God’s goodness.  So, he cries out: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”  Jesus misses nothing and declares, “The tax collector went home righteous.”  Despite his sin, the tax collector is a saint.

If you exalt yourself through the Law, it will knock you in the dirt.  The Law will strip you naked and unmask you as a sinner.  No matter how good you may be, the Law will still accuse you and cut you down.  The Law will stop your mouth, expose your sin, and kill you in the end; it does that to the sinner.

So, if you try to get close to God through the Law, trying to earn His favor with your commandment keeping and noble deeds, you will not be justified.  The Law only condemns.  For you are putting your trust in what you did or do—and it is never enough!

Should we then not bother trying to live holy lives?  Or worse, should we try to become a worse sinner so we can qualify for sainthood?  No.  The tax collector did not become a saint because he lived a better life, but neither was he a saint because he lived a hideous life.  He was a saint because he trusted in Jesus, who would make right what sin brought into ruin.

Did Jesus sacrifice His sinless, spotless life for you?  If you trust He did, you are a saint.  God recognizes you as living a holy life.

So, what happens after Jesus tells the parable?  People bring infants, tiny babies to Jesus—and He wants to bless them.  What do those squirming, helpless little ones offer to Jesus to deserve His blessing?  Nothing.

Who is better able to do something, the adult or the infant?  Who is more helpless than an infant?  He’s a waste of Jesus’ time.  Jesus is building a kingdom, and people are bringing newborn babies to Him.  The disciples soon realize what’s going on, so they scold those parents for wasting Jesus’ time.

Jesus’ response reveals to all this truth: The infants, the helpless, worship God in the way of the Gospel.  They can’t do the Law.  They can’t decide for Jesus and speak on their own.  We can’t do the Law either, but we know just enough to think we can!

Here’s the truth: we are no better off than those helpless babies whom others must bring to Jesus.  Scripture pounds in that point by bringing up infants after the failure of the Pharisee.  “Don’t stop the little children from coming to me!  Don’t try to stop them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these” (Luke 18:16).

Are you now beginning to understand infant baptism?  Infants are the perfect candidates for baptism because they can’t do what God’s Law demands.  Others need to bring them to Jesus.  They can’t bring themselves.  So the picture for every person becomes one of being brought back into infancy, of becoming helpless, where you can’t do anything.

Here’s the irony: All baptism is infant baptism, even if an adult is getting baptized.  Why?  Babies need someone to give to them.  They can’t do what’s needed or meet the standard.  Neither can we when it comes to salvation—but we are often dumb enough to think we can!

“Whoever doesn’t receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it” (Luke 18:17).  The child does nothing; God does everything.  We can understand this with the infant, which is the point Jesus is making.

So, what makes a saint different from everyone else?  Every saint approaches the Lord the way the tax collector did—with nothing to offer.  Repentance is recognizing everything you can offer God to be right with Him is never enough.

At the Temple, the tax collector stood far away.  He realized his worthlessness before his Lord—and that truth had now become part of his DNA.  He doesn’t pray how good he is.  He confesses how corrupt he is: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”

Those aren’t hollow words, for he’s not praying: “Forgive me today so I can go back to cheating as a tax collector tomorrow.”  So also are we not to repent with hollow words.  To do so is not real repentance—if you are saying something with your lips when planning in your heart to commit the same sin.

Do not make a mockery of confession if you intend to keep right on sinning.  Yes, you and I all sin out of weakness, which is not the same as planning to sin.

Real repentance wants to change but realizes you can’t without the strength of your Lord.  True repentance recognizes you are unworthy to ask for God’s mercy but believes, all the more, our Savior wants to give it.  So, if you want to live a life pleasing to God but realize temptations can crush and disembowel you, confess with the tax collector.  Cry out: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”

Drink in God’s promise: “Though your sins are as scarlet, they will become white as snow.  Though they are like crimson, they will become white as wool” (Isaiah 1:18).  Our Lord’s blood purifies you, which He shed on the cross for your sins.

Picture your life stained red by sin.  So, Jesus comes to you and declares: “I forgive you.”  He later speaks a reality into being: “This is my body, given for you; this is my blood, shed for you.”  Picture His blood flowing from the cross and into your life.  Here’s what happens: His blood doesn’t stain you redder as it courses your way.  No, His cleansing blood turns you spotless, sinless white, washing away everything unholy within you.

Jesus, who told the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, is the only person in human history who lived a righteous life.  He could boast to God about His goodness and be speaking the truth.  But instead of boasting, Jesus comes to serve.  He brings His holy life to this Temple today, into this church, so He can give you what you cannot do for yourself.

“You were all baptized into Christ, and so you were all clothed with Christ” (Galatians 3:27).  At your baptism, the Holy Spirit poured Jesus’ holy life over your unholy life.  Now, God looks at you, dear baptized believer, and His eyes only see the purest saint who ever lived.  “Behold a host arrayed in white,” a multitude of saints, which also includes you.  You are washed white in our Lord’s blood.

Saints come to church, but not to tell God about their righteous lives.  Like the tax collector, we come to church to give God our unrighteous lives—and our Lord dresses us in Jesus’ holy life.  The church is not a museum where we display saints; no, this church is a hospital where the Doctor from all eternity, Jesus, cures sinners and makes them saints.  Jesus comes to make you and me into saints!

Why are you different from all the other people in the world?  Because of God.  He makes you into a saint, who now cries out and turns away from sin: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”  Faith believes God is merciful—all because Jesus’ blood makes you nothing less than a saint.  Amen.