Tax Collection.

Tax Collection.

I think I’ve mentioned before that I tend to bottle things up inside and rarely release that pressure that builds up.  Last night, the pressure released.

Some pretty routine stuff took place, including a traffic stop.  I produced my license, papers, etc. and then I continued along my way.  However, about 30 seconds after rolling my window up and proceeding home, the pressure relief valve kicked in and that which was within escaped quite readily.  Those of you that know me well understand why such a simple event could  be the catalyst to release.

I was simply overwhelmed with my own sinfulness.  I have nothing to plead before the throne.  There are no bargaining chips up my sleeves.  I am the prodigal, good as dead with the pigs, hoping desperately for mercy.

And this comes to mind: ““He (Christ) also told a parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.  The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’  But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’  I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other.  For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.””  Luke 18:9-14 ESV

Tax collectors were hated, especially by those who were self-righteous.  I raised myself up as a Pharisee.  I raised myself up as the prodigal’s older brother.  Yet the Lord, in his mercy, justifies the tax collector and not the Pharisee.  The Lord has arrested me in my own self-righteousness.  I have worshipped vain idols and been convinced of my own deserving worth.  

Men might argue with me saying, “You’re too hard on yourself.  Give up your self-recrimination and embrace the goodness within you.  I say you’re valuable and deserve good!”  

I object.  

I know there is something within me that is terribly wrong.  

I want to love people and find not only that I do not and cannot, but that I often nurture a hatefulness and contempt for the very people I want so dearly to love.  I see the right thing to do, yet do that opposite wrong.  Do not tell me I am good; do not reason with me.  A man who comes to me with consolations such as these does not know a reason that will prevail upon me.  Do not attempt to convince the tax collector that he is not what he knows himself to be; it is the Pharisee who is deluded, not the tax collector.

I am a prodigal son who is employed as a tax collector.

So, I broke down.  I beat my breast.  I cried out, “Mercy!”