Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost
Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost
Light of Christ Anglican Church
The Rev. Mike Moffitt October 26th, 2025
The Prayer That Changes Everything
Text: Luke 18:9–14
The past month we’ve spent some time in 2 Timothy, which is considered by most commentators the last letter that the Apostle Paul ever wrote.
As I’ve pointed out several times the letter was written while Paul was imprisoned in Rome, anticipating his own death, actually martyrdom. Paul was likely in his early to mid-60s and Timothy was probably around 40 years old.
This letter holds a special place in my heart. Paul, though not Timothy’s biological father, was his spiritual father. Acts 16 recounts the story of Paul asking Timothy to accompany him and Silas on a missionary journey, which he did. In fact he ended up accompanying Paul for a great deal of his travels. He mentored and discipled Timothy and eventually left him in charge of the church in Ephesus.
I think what developed was a unique relationship mirroring the one found between a biological father and his son. So I don’t find it surprising that Paul’s last known letter was born out of his love for his son and his desire to make sure that he didn’t leave before he made a last effort to exhort and encourage him. He knew what was probably in store for Timothy.
I think about such things as I grow older and think of my son Ben, and my daughter Amy. Ben will be 48 next month and Amy will soon be 50. Have I told them all that I want them to know? When I leave to go back to the Father will have I left something unsaid? Paul’s advice and intention resonates with me as I pursue my ministry and consider those that I love.
Of course, in reality whatever Paul’s intention in writing the letter the Holy Spirit intended it for us as well and possibly so that we can be reminded of the need for intentional focus on God’s calling in our lives and to ask ourselves similar questions.
There are two goals that I have for us this morning. The first being a final look at a few things in 2 Timothy 4:1–9. Secondly, to look at our Gospel reading from Luke 18: 9–14. I believe these two readings have a very strong link to one another. Let’s begin by reading 2 Timothy 4:1–5.
I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. But as for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.
The word that Paul uses for “charge” in the Greek is a very strong word that is sometimes translated as “testified” as in a court of law. It was his calling to preach the word, as given through the Holy Spirit, the only word that redeemed and changed lives
Paul here identifies God and Christ Jesus as the members of the court where Paul gave his testimony to Timothy, thereby making it more important. As Paul sat in his cold, damp prison cell awaiting his death, he understood there was a spiritual reality present that went beyond the walls of his cell. Whatever he was going through Paul’s focus was still on the return of Jesus Christ. The restoration and final event that brought together the Kingdom of God in Heaven with the renewed Kingdom of God on earth was what made all of his suffering worthwhile.
He had been in ministry for more than 30 years and his earliest letters, such as 1 and 2 Thessalonians reminded those who were going through trials of the return of Jesus. Now, so many years and experiences later, he still relied on that as his motivation and comfort. Timothy would need that as well.
I don’t know of a better explanation on what it means to “Preach the word, in season and out of season” than the Westminster Confession of Faith- Larger Catechism- Article 159,
Those who are called to labor in the ministry of the word should preach sound doctrine, accurately, in season and out of season, clearly, and not with seductive words of human wisdom but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power. They should faithfully and fully express the whole counsel of God; this should be done wisely, taking into account the needs and capabilities of the audience. Their preaching should be motivated by a zealous and fervent love for God and the souls of his people. Finally, it should be done sincerely, aiming to glorify God and to convert, edify, and save his people.1
Throughout 2 Timothy Paul’s emphasis on the word of God has been constant. There are some 36 references to the true gospel in this letter and some 17 references to false teachings.
Paul reminded Timothy that the day will come when people would not stand for the preaching of the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. Instead they’ll find those who will preach a message that pleases them, that “tickles their ears” instead of bringing the Holy Spirits conviction of their sins.
It’s tempting to look at today’s world and think that we have arrived at that day. We have indeed but Timothy did as well. As I told you a few weeks ago Timothy was martyred in AD 97 for preaching Christ Jesus as Lord and speaking against the teaching of those who worshipped the goddess Artemis.
The truth is that there has never been a time since the church began almost 2,000 years ago when the followers of Jesus Christ have existed without resistance and persecution. Paul knew this and gave Timothy a solemn exhortation in 2 Timothy 4:5,
But as for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.
It’s the next three verses where Paul allows Timothy to face the fact that what Paul has written in this letter comes from a credible source, someone who understands fully what it means to follow the Lord Jesus. However, it also reminds Timothy of the payoff. Listen again to 2 Timothy 4: 6–9
For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the The Westminster Larger Catechism: EPC Modern English Version – We Are His Workmanship ace, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing. Do your best to come to me soon.
Previously, I’ve pointed out Paul’s fatherly love for Timothy, but I imagine that now we should be aware of Timothy’s reaction to these words from his father. There are just sometimes that the desired reaction would be to embrace and weep together but there was a great distance between Ephesus and Rome, and travel was slow.
Timothy would have picked up on the imagery that Paul was using about his being poured out as a drink offering. This metaphor for death was taken from the Old Testament sacrificial system. A drink offering of wine was poured out in the sanctuary as a sacrifice reflecting gratitude to God (Numbers 15: 5,7,10; 28:7). Every drop was emptied symbolizing a complete act of thankfulness.
Paul understood his imminent death as an offering to Jesus Christ who had done so much for him that he owed his life as an offering to Him. He knew that he had been faithful and used the metaphors of finishing the fight and running a race to the end. He was assured that a crown of righteousness awaited him.
David Guzik in his commentary on 2 Timothy suggests, …there are two main words for crown in the New Testament. One refers to a royal crown and the other to the victor’s crown (the stephanos). Here Paul referred to the victor’s crown — the crown that was essentially a trophy, recognizing that one had competed according the rules and had won the victory. Before Paul was a Christian he supervised the execution of the first martyr and then began to kill as many other Christians as he could. But now at the end of his life he was ready to receive a crown — a stephanos. It is likely that he remembered the name of the first martyr, who died at Paul’s own hands: Stephanos (Stephen).2
Sadly, Timothy was not able to reach Paul before his beheading. Early Christian writings and accounts from historians like Eusebius hold that Paul was beheaded in Rome during the reign of Nero, likely around 67 AD.
2 Study Guide for 2 Timothy 4 by David Guzik
In closing this section I would like to point out that according to verse 11 most everyone except for Luke had left Paul for one reason or another. The Book of Acts was written by Luke as well as his Gospel. In Acts Luke records that he traveled with Paul on his second missionary journey but was left in Phillipi. He then joined again with Paul on his third missionary journey and was with him in his final imprisonment and possibly up to his death.
With that in mind I would like to turn to our Gospel reading from Luke 18:9–14, the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector.
This is just my conjecture but I’m assuming that since Luke is said to have been written his Gospel between AD 60–63 that Paul had been privy to Lukes Gospel during its writing. I wonder how he reacted to this parable.
Let’s break down the story. Two men went up to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. Jesus points out that the Pharisee comes to pray but he seems quite comfortable being there. Whereas the tax collector stands far off as one who is unworthy of even approaching and wouldn’t even look up out of shame. Why the two different attitudes?
In the first century, among the religious leaders the Pharisees were the ones who were faithful to Torah and demanded adherence to every command. They even had a second book called the Talmud that was second only to Torah. The Talmud was the primary source of Jewish law and theology. It provided commentary on how to apply the teachings of Torah. The Pharisees prayed, fasted, tithed from every thing they received even the tiniest herbs. They were serious about this and dedicated their lives to being faithful to God. They believed that God mattered above all things. Keep in mind that the Jews were under Roman rule and it took courage to reject the Roman gods.
What about the tax collectors? Well, they were for the most part Jews who collected taxes for Rome and made a great living off of that. They weren’t misunderstood or marginalized. They were collaborators: predators. This man made his living bleeding his own people for Caesar.
Okay that’s basically the definition of each man but now let’s consider each of their prayers.
Luke 18:11–12, “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.”
A friend of ours from our seminary days writes a weekly vignette on Wednesday as an appetizer for the sermon coming on Sunday. I’m going to quote from Rev. Ben DeHart’s vignette this past Wednesday.
The Pharisee thanks God he’s not like other people. And most of us, hearing that, think, thank God we’re not like that Pharisee. That’s how sneaky self righteousness is. We know this story—too well, maybe. The upright man standing tall in the temple. The tax collector in the back head bowed, whispering for mercy. We know how it ends. But we forget how it begins: Jesus tells this parable to those who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and treated others with contempt.
Which means he’s talking to people like me. But here’s the danger: The moment faith becomes proof of your moral seriousness it curdles into comparison. “I thank you that I am not like other people…” It sounds like gratitude, but it’s really a mirror. He’s thanking God but admiring himself.
That’s the oldest temptation of all— to measure our goodness by someone else’s failure, to prop up our righteousness by pointing at the wrongness of others.
Concerning the tax collector the Pharisee would have been right to condemn it. He may be everything the Pharisee says he is—and worse. But there he stands. Eyes down. Chest heaving. No arguments. No excuses. No defense.
Just this: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
And Jesus says he goes home justified. Not because his sins don’t matter. Not because God grades on a curve. But because he stops defending them. He stops defending himself. He stands before God with nothing but need— and finds mercy waiting.
The Pharisee leaves with his righteousness intact. The tax collector leaves forgiven. One goes home with what he came with. The other goes home changed. You can’t moralize this story. It’s not “Be humble, not proud.” Because the moment you say, Thank God I’m not like that Pharisee, you’ve stepped into his shoes. This isn’t a parable about certain kinds of people. It’s a mirror held up to every heart that secretly believes it’s earned its place.
I love that! This is where I find our epistle reading from 2 Timothy 4:6–11 and our reading from Luke 18: 9–14 intersecting. I’m thinking it likely that the Apostle Paul was well aware of this parable from Luke’s Gospel because they spent so much time together.
Paul wrote about his past in Philippians 3:4–7,
though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.
Paul understood more than most what it was like to be a Pharisee and to look down upon those who he found to be sinners according to the law. He had felt he was protecting the law of God and the Jewish faith. But I suspect that when or if he read the parable from Luke’s Gospel he saw himself in the stories of both men, the Pharisee and the tax collector.
I picture him grinning because his ministry ended up being primarily focused on those who were nothing like him. They were Gentiles, the very ones that as a Jew he wouldn’t have eaten with, associated with in any way, or even touch them. Since the time of Abraham Israel had forgotten the promise that God made to Abraham that all the nations of the earth would be blessed through his seed. In other words the people of God were chosen to reach out to those who had no knowledge of Him or desire to know about him. Paul was chosen by God to bridge that chasm and as Gentiles we should be grateful.
Our nation is more fractured than I’ve ever seen it but, brothers and sisters, so is much of the church, probably a big percentage. We’re fractured along denominational lines and in some cases it was inevitable for reasons of being faithful to God’s word. But who do we see our ministry being directed too?
I saved the last part of Ben’s vignette because it convicted me. Right now even in our own denomination we are broken and wounded and as we pray we must ask God to deal with our own hearts before we consider the sins of others. Consider Ben’s words.
And that mirror still finds me— when I scroll the news, when I shake my head at someone who voted differently than me, when I tell myself I’m on the right side of history, when I start a prayer with, “At least I’m not like them.”
The Pharisee’s voice isn’t ancient. It’s ours. That’s the offense of the gospel: Whenever we draw a line between “us” and “them,” we find Jesus has already crossed to the other side. But that’s also its mercy. Because the moment we find ourselves on the wrong side of the line, we discover he’s there too— not to condemn, but to forgive.
We don’t come to God with credentials. We come with empty hands. Because in the end, there’s only one prayer that saves us. And the Pharisee never learned to pray it. And maybe that’s what real gratitude sounds like—not “Thank God I’m not like them,” but “Thank God you’ve had mercy on me.”
The Rev. Michael J. Moffitt
