Bridging The Distance

Bridging the Distance

Read: Luke 18:9-14

“The tax collector stood at a distance.”

Luke 18:13

“I remember two things; that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.”

—John Newton

IN WORD It’s a familiar story. Two men went to the Temple to pray, and only one of them went away with an answer—an ashamed tax collector who couldn’t even look in heaven’s direction.

Why would Jesus tell His disciples a parable that commends standing at a distance from God? Doesn’t He want to draw us near to God? Doesn’t He encourage prodigals to come home? Doesn’t He tell us to call God “Father”? God’s welcoming arms and His invitation to intimacy are solid, biblical themes. Yet in this parable, Jesus condemns the Pharisee’s familiarity with God and applauds the tax collector’s distance. Why?

The difference is the attitude bringing us to God. Are we entitled to be there? Do we come to Him expecting approval for our good behavior? Or do we see Him as a captain who welcomes mutineers back with open arms, a king who opens His palace to former coup instigators?

The moment we start to feel worthy of being God’s children, we’re in trouble. It isn’t wrong to be comfortable with our Father. But on whose merit does He accept us? Ours? No, we are welcome in God’s presence because Jesus is good, not because we’re good. And we never really understand His goodness unless our souls have first felt the loneliness of spiritual exile. Grace is for rebels who have known their offenses.

IN DEED We probably don’t applaud ourselves for the things that the Pharisee believed made him acceptable— avoiding the really bad sins and appearing better than others. But we can become awfully casual about being in God’s presence. We can act like entitled children who demand the Father’s attention rather than privileged children who are overwhelmed by the Father’s mercies. We don’t remember the depth of the chasm that Jesus bridged.

In this parable, Jesus doesn’t mean to teach us to stand at a distance from God. He means to remind us how great a distance was there. May we never forget.