For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted (Luke 18:14, KJV).

ABSTRACT

This article delves into the Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, exposing the peril of self-righteousness among the faithful and the triumph of humble repentance that appeals solely to divine mercy. It connects our community’s heritage of steadfast obedience during times of crisis to the ever-present risk of shifting trust from Christ’s righteousness to personal achievements, emphasizing the 1888 message as a divine call to righteousness by faith. By dissecting the prayers of the two men, the piece warns against allowing doctrinal zeal to foster pride and contempt, instead urging a constant dependence on Christ’s imputed and imparted righteousness as the foundation for true justification, obedience, and the fulfillment of the third angel’s message in preparing a people for eternity.

NAVIGATING THE REMNANT’S MOST INTIMATE PERIL

The week ends not with a thunderclap but with a quiet closing of a door. The scent of old paper and earnest prayer still hangs in the air. The last study is finished, the final question from a searching soul has been met with a promise of more prayer, more searching. The briefcase, heavy with well-worn Bibles and copies of The Great Controversy, sits by the door like a faithful dog, tired but ready for the next call. There is a deep satisfaction in this work, a sense of rightness, of standing on the solid ground of God’s truth in a world of shifting sand. It is the feeling of a soldier who has held the line, who has faithfully presented the law of God, the Sabbath, the state of the dead, the call to come out of Babylon—all the unshakeable pillars of the faith. In this quiet moment, a subtle thought can rise, almost unnoticed: Thank God, I am not as others are. Thank God, I have the truth. Scripture further supports this peril in warning that “As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one” (Romans 3:10, KJV), and “But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away” (Isaiah 64:6, KJV). Ellen G. White wrote that “Self-righteousness is not true righteousness, and those who cling to it will be left to take the consequences of holding a fatal deception. Misrepresented, self-justified, exalted, it will sink the soul into ruin” (Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 397, 1890). In Steps to Christ we read, “The closer you come to Jesus, the more faulty you will appear in your own eyes; for your vision will be clearer, and your imperfections will be seen in broad and distinct contrast to His perfect nature” (Steps to Christ, p. 64, 1892). We must guard against such subtle pride that disguises itself as faithfulness.

It is a dangerous thought. It is a thought that can curdle the purest motives, a spiritual poison that works most effectively on the most sincere. It is the very thought that prompted the Son of God, in the midst of His ministry, to stop and tell a story. This was not a story for the openly rebellious or the casually irreligious. This was a story for the devout. It was a spiritual scalpel aimed at the heart of the faithful. “And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others” (Luke 18:9, KJV). The Bible also highlights this by stating, “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18, KJV), and “Well; because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith. Be not highminded, but fear” (Romans 11:20, KJV). A passage from Patriarchs and Prophets reminds us, “Pride in his own glory nourished the desire for supremacy. The high honors conferred upon Lucifer were not appreciated as the gift of God and called forth no gratitude to the Creator” (Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 37, 1890). Through inspired counsel we are told, “Pride, self-confidence, love of the world, faultfinding, bitterness, envy, are the fruit borne by many who profess the religion of Christ” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 5, p. 55, 1882). Christ directs this warning precisely at those who feel secure in their own righteousness.

For us, this parable is not merely a historical account or a general lesson in humility. It is a profound, piercing, and perpetual warning. Our community was born from a crisis of faithfulness. When the leaders of the European church chose to accommodate the demands of the state during the Great War, a small minority—a remnant of the remnant—refused. They chose prison over combat, disfellowshipping over the violation of God’s holy Sabbath. They stood firm on the sixth and fourth commandments when others wavered. Our very identity is forged in that stand for the full measure of God’s law against perceived compromise. This history is our strength, our heritage, our testimony. And it is, for that very reason, the source of our most intimate spiritual peril. The danger is that the corporate testimony, “We kept the commandments when others did not,” can subtly transform into the personal prayer, “God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are.” The moment our identity rests not on Christ’s righteousness but on our comparative faithfulness, we have stepped out of the gospel and into the Pharisee’s shoes. This parable, then, is a divine health check for the soul of our community, forcing us to ask the most uncomfortable of questions: Has our stand for the truth become a trust in our own righteousness? Scripture also emphasizes this risk when it declares, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5, KJV), and “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9, KJV). Sr. White explained that “The greatest deception of the human mind in Christ’s day was that a mere assent to the truth constitutes righteousness” (The Desire of Ages, p. 309, 1898). The inspired pen adds, “Our Saviour ever condemned self-righteousness. He taught His disciples that the highest type of religion is that which manifests its fruits in a life of self-denial and love” (The Sanctified Life, p. 8, 1889). Yet what exactly reveals the structure of such pride in the Pharisee’s prayer?

ARCHITECTURE OF PRIDE: DECONSTRUCTING THE PHARISEE’S PRAYER

Christ’s portrait of the Pharisee is a masterpiece of spiritual diagnosis. Every detail reveals the mechanics of a soul that has substituted religion for God. “The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself” (Luke 18:11, KJV). His posture is one of confidence, even boldness, standing in the holy precincts of the temple. Yet the text suggests his prayer is not a dialogue with heaven but a monologue with his own ego. He prays “with himself,” rehearsing his virtues in a performance of piety. His worship, as Sr. White observes, is not born from a sense of need, but is regarded “as an act of merit that will recommend him to God”. There is no confession, no genuine praise for God’s character, only a self-congratulatory inventory of his own. The Bible further illustrates this deception through declarations like “Every way of a man is right in his own eyes: but the Lord pondereth the hearts” (Proverbs 21:2, KJV), and “There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and yet is not washed from their filthiness” (Proverbs 30:12, KJV). A prophetic voice once wrote, “Pride feels no need, and so it closes the heart against Christ and the infinite blessings He came to give” (Steps to Christ, p. 30, 1892). In Testimonies for the Church we read, “There is no pride so dangerous as spiritual pride” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 1, p. 413, 1868). Pride turns worship inward, severing the connection with divine grace.

The foundation of his error is the standard by which he measures himself. “God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican” (Luke 18:11, KJV). His metric for righteousness is not the holy, perfect, and unchangeable character of God, but the character of other men. He looks horizontally, at the perceived failings of those around him, rather than vertically, into the blinding holiness of his Creator. This flawed comparison is the secret to his self-satisfaction. As Sr. White explains, “As the Pharisee judges himself by other men, so he judges other men by himself. His righteousness is estimated by theirs, and the worse they are the more righteous by contrast he appears” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 151). This inevitably leads to the second characteristic Christ identified in His audience: he “despised others.” His self-righteousness is not a private affair; it is a cancer that destroys charity and replaces it with contempt. By condemning “other men,” he is not merely making a flawed social comparison; he is manifesting “the very spirit of Satan, the accuser of the brethren.” With such a spirit, true communion with God is an impossibility. Scripture also underscores this by affirming, “But he giveth more grace. Wherefore he saith, God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble” (James 4:6, KJV), and “The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth, do I hate” (Proverbs 8:13, KJV). Through inspired counsel we are told, “Pride and self-sufficiency separate the soul from God” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 5, p. 73, 1882). Ellen G. White noted, “None are further from the kingdom of heaven than self-righteous formalists, filled with pride at their own attainments, while they are wholly destitute of the spirit of Christ; while envy, jealousy, or love of praise and popularity controls them” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 5, p. 226, 1885). Comparison breeds contempt, blocking the path to genuine fellowship with heaven.

Finally, he presents his evidence, his list of spiritual accomplishments. “I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess” (Luke 18:12, KJV). It is critical to understand that these were not wicked deeds. On the contrary, they were acts of exceptional piety. The law required fasting only on the Day of Atonement; he fasted twice a week. The law required tithing on grain, wine, and oil; he tithed on all that he possessed, down to the herbs in his garden. The problem was not the what but the why. He trusted in these works. They were not the fruit of a grateful heart but the foundation of a meritorious claim. This is a religion that remains on the surface, a faith that “has to do only with outward life” and “does not touch the soul”. His righteousness, therefore, was his own, the product of his own efforts, judged by his own human standard. The Bible also highlights this misguided trust when it states, “For they being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God” (Romans 10:3, KJV), and “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost” (Titus 3:5, KJV). A passage from Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing reminds us, “The people partook largely of the same spirit, intruding upon the province of conscience, and judging one another in matters that lay between the soul and God” (Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing, p. 123, 1896). Sr. White affirmed, “The rags of self-righteousness in which we have prided ourselves are filthy rags, and until we fall on the rock Christ Jesus and are broken, we are not Christians” (Our High Calling, p. 343, 1961). External piety without heart surrender leads to self-deception.

Herein lies the terrifying lesson for those of us who cherish God’s law. The Pharisee’s error demonstrates that theological correctness and rigorous lifestyle standards—cornerstones of our identity—are not only insufficient for salvation but can become the very instruments of damnation when they foster self-trust. The very things he did right were what led him to be so wrong. He was doctrinally sound, morally upright, and zealous in his religious duties. Yet Christ declares him unjustified. A direct causal link exists between his rigorous obedience and his spiritual pride; he “trusted in himself that he was righteous” because he had a compelling list of evidence to support the claim. This reveals a chilling spiritual dynamic: the more diligent one is in obedience, the greater the temptation to transfer one’s trust from the Savior to the obedience itself. The very practices designed to honor God can be hijacked by the self to glorify the self. For us, the implication is stark. To preach the importance of our health message, dress reform, or our historic stand on non-combatancy without simultaneously and more forcefully preaching our absolute, moment-by-moment dependence on the imputed and imparted righteousness of Christ is to risk creating a congregation of modern Pharisees. Our distinctive practices must be presented as the grateful fruit of a justified life, never the root of our justification. Scripture further supports this caution by declaring, “Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober” (1 Thessalonians 5:6, KJV), and “Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves” (2 Corinthians 13:5, KJV). The inspired pen warns, “Only by a constant renunciation of self and dependence on Christ can we walk safely” (The Signs of the Times, January 6, 1904). A prophetic voice adds, “Our growth in grace, our joy, our usefulness,—all depend upon our union with Christ” (Steps to Christ, p. 69, 1892). But how does the contrasting plea of the publican demonstrate the essence of true repentance?

GRAMMAR OF REPENTANCE: ANATOMY OF THE PUBLICAN’S PLEA

In stark contrast to the Pharisee’s self-assured presentation stands the publican. His every action and his few, desperate words form a perfect anatomy of true repentance. “And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven” (Luke 18:13, KJV). His physical distance from the inner court of the temple and his downcast gaze are the outward manifestations of his profound sense of spiritual unworthiness. He felt, as Sr. White notes, “unworthy to unite in their devotions” and so “drew apart from them” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 151). He does not presume upon God’s space or even God’s gaze. He knows his place is that of a beggar at the gate, not an honored guest at the table. The Bible also portrays this humility in saying, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise” (Psalm 51:17, KJV), and “To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word” (Isaiah 66:2, KJV). Through inspired counsel we are told, “Repentance includes sorrow for sin and a turning away from it. We shall not renounce sin unless we see its sinfulness; until we turn away from it in heart, there will be no real change in the life” (Steps to Christ, p. 23, 1892). Sr. White stated, “Repentance is as much the gift of Christ as is forgiveness, and it cannot be found in the heart where Jesus has not been at work” (The Review and Herald, April 1, 1890). Genuine repentance begins with recognizing one’s unworthiness before a holy God.

His posture of humility is matched by a gesture of anguish: he “smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner” (Luke 18:13, KJV). This physical act was an expression of “bitter anguish and self-abhorrence,” a sign of a heart breaking under the weight of its own guilt. His prayer, a mere seven words in the King James Version, is a complete and perfect encapsulation of the gospel. He addresses the right authority: “God.” He appeals to the right attribute: “be merciful.” He does not ask for justice, for he knows justice would condemn him. He does not plead his own case or offer mitigating circumstances. His only plea is for the one thing that can bridge the infinite gap between a holy God and a sinful man: mercy. And he makes the right diagnosis of his condition: “to me a sinner.” It is a complete and honest self-assessment. He does not compare himself with others, thinking, At least I am not like that self-righteous Pharisee. Overwhelmed by his own guilt, he stands “as if alone in God’s presence” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 152). Scripture further illustrates this cry through words like “Have mercy upon me, O Lord; for I am weak: O Lord, heal me; for my bones are vexed” (Psalm 6:2, KJV), and “Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10, KJV). A passage from Faith and Works reminds us, “Some who come to God by repentance and confession, and even believe that their sins are forgiven, still fail because they do not claim the promises of God” (Faith and Works, p. 38, 1979). The inspired pen explains, “The more our sense of need drives us to Him and to the word of God, the more exalted views we shall have of His character, and the more fully we shall reflect His image” (Steps to Christ, p. 65, 1892). The publican’s plea captures the simplicity of the gospel’s call to mercy.

This posture of brokenness is the non-negotiable prerequisite for receiving grace. Sr. White states it with unmistakable clarity: “The sense of need, the recognition of our poverty and sin, is the very first condition of acceptance with God” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 152). This is the spirit of the first beatitude, “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3, KJV). The proud heart, she continues, “strives to earn salvation; but both our title to heaven and our fitness for it are found in the righteousness of Christ. The Lord can do nothing toward the recovery of man until, convinced of his own weakness, and stripped of all self-sufficiency, he yields himself to the control of God” (The Desire of Ages, p. 300). The Bible also affirms this truth by proclaiming, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, KJV), and “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9, KJV). Through inspired counsel we are told, “Whoever will in faith accept God’s promises will find pardon. The Lord will never cast away one truly repentant soul” (God’s Amazing Grace, p. 258, 1973). Sr. White wrote, “Repentance is one of the first fruits of saving grace” (Our High Calling, p. 52, 1961). Brokenness opens the door to divine acceptance.

This journey from self-sufficiency to desperate dependence is powerfully illustrated in the life of the apostle Peter. In his early discipleship, Peter was the very image of self-confidence. When Christ forewarned the disciples of their coming failure, Peter declared with pharisaical assurance, “Although all shall be offended, yet will not I” (Mark 14:29, KJV). He did not know his own weakness, his own danger. It was only after he fell into the depths of sin, denying his Lord with oaths and curses, that his pride was shattered. The look of Christ broke his heart, and he went out and wept bitterly. In that moment, Sr. White writes, “Peter had come to the turning point.” He was now like the publican in his contrition and repentance, and like the publican, he found mercy. His self-confidence was gone forever, replaced by a lifelong awareness of his need for divine strength. The lesson is for all of us: “Our only safety is in constant distrust of self, and dependence on Christ” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 155). Scripture also echoes this transformation in declaring, “The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit” (Psalm 34:18, KJV), and “For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones” (Isaiah 57:15, KJV). A prophetic voice once wrote, “Peter was a better man after his fall. The Lord permits his children to fall; and then, if they repent of their wrongdoing, he helps them to stand on vantage ground” (The Review and Herald, December 15, 1885). In Early Writings we read, “I saw that Peter denied his Lord because he feared man, but after his fall he repented and was reconverted” (Early Writings, p. 169, 1882). Peter’s experience teaches us the power of repentance to restore dependence on Christ, but what verdict does heaven render on these two approaches to God?

DIVINE VERDICT: RIGHTEOUSNESS BY FAITH AND THE THIRD ANGEL’S MESSAGE

The parable reaches its stunning climax in the divine verdict. Christ, the Judge of all the earth, draws back the veil and reveals the standing of these two men before the court of heaven. “I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other” (Luke 18:14, KJV). The central issue of the parable, the question that hangs over the entire scene, is how a person is made right—justified—before God. The answer is radical and revolutionary. Justification is not the reward for a life of meticulous piety; it is a gift bestowed upon a penitent sinner who has nothing to offer but a cry for mercy. The man who seemed most righteous was declared guilty, while the man who knew himself to be a sinner was declared righteous. The Bible further illuminates this gift by stating, “Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law” (Romans 3:28, KJV), and “Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:24, KJV). Sr. White declared, “No one can be justified by any works of his own. He can be delivered from the guilt of sin, from the condemnation of the law, from the penalty of transgression, only by virtue of the suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ” (Faith and Works, p. 20, 1979). A passage from Selected Messages reminds us, “The only way in which he can attain to righteousness is through faith. By faith he can bring to God the merits of Christ, and the Lord places the obedience of His Son to the sinner’s account” (Selected Messages, vol. 1, p. 367, 1958). Heaven’s judgment favors faith over self-effort.

This is the very heart of the message that God, in His great mercy, sent to the church at the 1888 General Conference in Minneapolis. Through Elders A. T. Jones and E. J. Waggoner, the Lord sent what Sr. White called “a most precious message” to correct a growing spirit of legalism and pharisaism within our ranks. For years, the church had faithfully preached the law, but in doing so, “many had lost sight of Jesus”. They needed their eyes directed once more to His merits and His changeless love. This message of righteousness by faith was not a new doctrine, but an old truth that had been lost sight of, a restoration of the gospel in its fullness. Scripture also reinforces this restoration by proclaiming, “But now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets” (Romans 3:21, KJV), and “Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no difference” (Romans 3:22, KJV). The inspired pen described, “When the Lord had given to my brethren the burden to proclaim this message I felt inexpressibly grateful to God, for I knew it was the message for this time” (The Ellen G. White 1888 Materials, p. 217, 1888). Through inspired counsel we are told, “God gave to his servants a testimony that presented the truth as it is in Jesus, which is the third angel’s message, in clear, distinct lines” (The Ellen G. White 1888 Materials, p. 518, 1987). The 1888 message revives the gospel’s emphasis on Christ’s righteousness.

Sr. White went so far as to call this message “the third angel’s message in verity”. This is a profound statement that demands our careful attention. The third angel’s message of Revelation 14 culminates in the description of the saints: “Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus” (Revelation 14:12, KJV). For too long, the emphasis had been placed almost exclusively on the first part of that verse: “the commandments of God.” Jones and Waggoner were sent by God to restore the divine balance by powerfully illuminating the second part: “the faith of Jesus.” This faith is not merely believing about Jesus; it is the very faith of Jesus, a complete trust in His power “to save us amply and fully and entirely”. As A. T. Jones powerfully preached, the Third Angel’s Message is the preaching of the everlasting gospel, which is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith. It is this message that binds the law and the gospel into a “perfect whole,” producing a people who truly keep both the commandments of God and have the faith of Jesus. The Bible also stresses this balance in affirming, “For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ” (John 1:17, KJV), and “Do we then make void the law through faith? God forbid: yea, we establish the law” (Romans 3:31, KJV). A prophetic voice once wrote, “The message of Christ’s righteousness is to sound from one end of the earth to the other to prepare the way of the Lord. This is the glory of God, which closes the work of the third angel” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 6, p. 19, 1901). Sr. White emphasized, “The most precious light here shone forth from the Scriptures presenting the truth of the law of God which is a standard of character in such a light as made it appear to all who heard as a new revelation” (The Ellen G. White 1888 Materials, p. 1055, 1987). The third angel’s message unites law and faith in Christ.

This restored understanding clarifies the vital relationship between justification and sanctification. Justification is the work of a moment, our title to heaven, granted to us when by faith we accept Christ’s atoning sacrifice. It is Christ’s perfect righteousness imputed to us, or credited to our account. We are declared righteous not because of anything we have done, but solely because of what Christ has done for us. But this is not the end of the story. True, saving faith is never alone; it is a transformative power. Sanctification is the work of a lifetime, our fitness for heaven, as Christ’s righteousness is imparted to us by the indwelling Holy Spirit. Justification is the root of the tree; sanctification is the fruit that it inevitably bears. As E. J. Waggoner so powerfully stated it, we do not say that faith merely leads to obedience; rather, “faith itself obeys” (Christ and His Righteousness, p. 95). The message of 1888 was not an invitation to a cheap grace that ignores the law, but a call to “receive the righteousness of Christ, which is made manifest in obedience to all the commandments of God” (Testimonies to Ministers and Gospel Workers, p. 92). The two approaches to God presented in the parable can be summarized as two distinct paths to righteousness. Scripture further clarifies this relationship by stating, “Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1, KJV), and “But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption” (1 Corinthians 1:30, KJV). In The Review and Herald we read, “The doctrine of justification by faith has been lost sight of by many who have professed to believe the third angel’s message” (The Review and Herald, August 13, 1889). The inspired pen adds, “With great clearness and power the apostle presented the doctrine of justification by faith in Christ” (Acts of the Apostles, p. 373, 1911). But what depths of mercy does the publican’s plea invoke from the heart of God?

Feature The Pharisee’s Way (Self-Righteousness) The Publican’s Way (Righteousness by Faith) Foundation Trust in self and personal performance (Luke 18:9) Desperate need and trust in God’s mercy (Luke 18:13) Standard Comparison with other people (Luke 18:11) God’s perfect, holy character (implied) Prayer’s Content An inventory of good works (Luke 18:12) A confession of sinfulness (Luke 18:13) Attitude Pride, self-sufficiency, contempt for others (Luke 18:9, 11) Humility, self-abhorrence, spiritual poverty (Luke 18:13) Theological Term Legalism / Salvation by Works Justification by Faith Divine Verdict Went home unjustified, “destitute of the divine blessing” Went home “justified” (Luke 18:14)

OCEAN OF LOVE: A MEDITATION ON DIVINE MERCY

The publican’s plea, “God be merciful,” hangs in the temple air, a fragile whisper against the stone pillars. But what is this mercy for which he so desperately pleads? It is not a rare commodity, reluctantly dispensed from a distant throne. It is the very atmosphere of the universe. It is, in the words of God’s messenger, “an ocean of love… circulating, like a divine atmosphere, around the world”. The heart of God “yearns over His earthly children with a love stronger than death,” a love that, in the giving of His Son, “poured out to us all heaven in one gift”. Through that one unspeakable Gift comes the “unfailing flow of Jehovah’s goodness” day by day. Every flower that blooms, every ray of sun that warms the earth, every article of food upon our tables is supplied to us through the merits of the One who was nailed to the cross so that all these bounties might flow to God’s creation. Mercy is not God’s secondary attribute, reserved for special occasions. It is the essence of His character. He is the God who “delighteth in mercy” (Micah 7:18, KJV). The publican’s prayer, therefore, was not a desperate gamble on a possible pardon. It was a trembling but certain appeal to the known, revealed, and unchanging character of a God whose very nature is love. He cast himself, helpless and undone, not into the void of uncertainty, but into the enfolding bosom of Infinite Love. The Bible also manifests this boundless mercy in revealing, “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, KJV), and “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy” (Psalm 103:8, KJV). Sr. White expressed, “Nature and revelation alike testify of God’s love. Our Father in heaven is the source of life, of wisdom, and of joy” (Steps to Christ, p. 9, 1892). A prophetic voice once wrote, “God is love. His nature, His law, is love. It ever has been; it ever will be” (Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 33, 1890). Divine mercy envelops all who seek it in humility, but how does receiving such mercy impose a sacred responsibility upon us?

STEWARD’S SACRED TRUST: A REFLECTION ON HUMAN RESPONSIBILITY

To be justified by such an ocean of love is to be placed under a sacred and joyful obligation. Grace is a gift, not a wage, but it is a gift that calls for a response. The life God has given us, and now redeemed for us, “is a sacred responsibility, and no moment of it is to be trifled with, for we shall have to meet it again in the record of the judgment”. The books of heaven trace our lives with perfect accuracy, holding us accountable not only for what we have done, but for what we have left undone, for our undeveloped characters and unimproved opportunities. We must never forget that we are placed on trial in this world, to determine our fitness for the future life. God tests us here by committing to us temporal possessions, time, and talents, so that our use of these may show “whether we can be entrusted with eternal riches” (Counsels on Stewardship, p. 22). The great law of love, the principle of God’s government, “calls for the devotion of body, mind, and soul to the service of God and our fellow-men” (Education, p. 16). This life of service, however, must be clearly distinguished from the Pharisee’s legalism. His was the anxious, prideful toil of a servant trying to earn his place in the household. Ours is to be the joyful, faithful stewardship of a son or daughter who has already been welcomed home, adopted into the family of heaven, and justified freely by His grace. We do not work for acceptance; we work from acceptance, our every act of obedience a love song of gratitude to the One who was merciful to us sinners. Scripture also outlines this duty by commanding, “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31, KJV), and “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service” (Romans 12:1, KJV). In Education we read, “Every human being, created in the image of God, is endowed with a power akin to that of the Creator—individuality, power to think and to do” (Education, p. 17, 1903). Sr. White urged, “The first thing to be learned by all who would become workers together with God is the lesson of self-distrust; then they are prepared to have imparted to them the character of Christ” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 9, p. 279, 1909). Stewardship flows from grateful hearts redeemed by mercy.

OUR ONLY SAFETY

The final, sobering lesson of the parable is Christ’s universal principle: “For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted” (Luke 18:14, KJV). This is an immutable law of the spiritual realm. The evil that shut the Pharisee out from communion with God and led to Peter’s fall is, as Sr. White warns, “proving the ruin of thousands today”. It is the sin of pride and self-sufficiency. And of all sins, she declares, “it is the most hopeless, the most incurable” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 154). It is hopeless because the one who suffers from it feels no need. Like the Laodicean church, he declares, “I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing,” not knowing that he is “wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked” (Revelation 3:17, KJV). Pride feels no need, and so it closes the heart against Christ and the infinite blessings He came to give. The Bible also warns of this law in declaring, “A man’s pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit” (Proverbs 29:23, KJV), and “Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is humility” (Proverbs 18:12, KJV). A prophetic voice once wrote, “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. Satan fell because of his ambition to be equal with God” (Faith I Live By, p. 68, 1958). Sr. White cautioned, “There is no pride so dangerous as spiritual pride” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 4, p. 378, 1875). Humility secures our standing before God.

There is even a subtle danger for those who have experienced the grace of God. Those who in their first confidence declare, “I am saved,” are in danger of beginning to trust in themselves. They “lose sight of their own weakness and their constant need of divine strength. They are unprepared for Satan’s devices, and under temptation many, like Peter, fall into the very depths of sin” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 155). We are admonished, “Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12, KJV). Scripture further alerts us to this ongoing need by stating, “Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41, KJV), and “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8, KJV). In The Great Controversy we read, “There must be persevering effort to overcome selfishness and self-confidence. Self-examination must be thorough, that there be no danger of self-deception” (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 5, p. 332, 1885). The inspired pen adds, “Abiding in Christ means a constant receiving of His Spirit, a life of unreserved surrender to His service” (Sons and Daughters of God, p. 301, 1955). Vigilance prevents the return of self-trust.

As the community, as messengers of the final warning to a dying world, our first duty is to our own souls. The most vital part of the message we carry—more essential than our understanding of prophecy, more foundational than the Sabbath truth—is the call to the foot of the cross. Our own spiritual survival, and the spiritual health of the flock we serve, depends on our daily, hourly choice to reject the Pharisee’s posture of self-trust and embrace the publican’s prayer of desperate dependence. We must hang our helpless souls upon Christ’s merits alone. This is the beginning and the end of true religion. It is the essence of the Third Angel’s Message. It is, in the final analysis, our only hope and our only protection. “Our only safety is in constant distrust of self, and dependence on Christ” (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 155). The Bible also reinforces this priority by exhorting, “Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2, KJV), and “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me” (John 15:4, KJV). Sr. White affirmed, “The most earnest workers will be safe only as they depend upon God through constant, earnest prayer” (Ye Shall Receive Power, p. 182, 1995). A passage from Our High Calling reminds us, “The presence of God is guaranteed to the Christian. This Rock of faith is the living presence of God. The weakest may depend upon it” (Our High Calling, p. 12, 1961). Dependence on Christ safeguards our souls and mission.

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SELF-REFLECTION

How can I, in my daily devotions, probe deeper into the parable’s warnings against self-righteousness, letting them refine my reliance on Christ’s merits alone?

How can we present the contrast between self-trust and humble faith in ways that resonate with both long-time members and newcomers from varied backgrounds, preserving the purity of the gospel? Addressing Misconceptions: What prevalent misunderstandings about justification by faith exist in our circles, and how can I address them compassionately with biblical truth and the insights of Sr. White? Living the Message: In what tangible steps can we as individuals and communities embody the publican’s humility, making our lives radiant testimonies of grace that draw others to the cross?