What Happens When we Die?

Now, for an example of self-righteousness, I want to turn to Luke chapter 18. The Pharisee who prayed in the temple. And the other person who prayed along with him, you remember, was the publican or the tax collector. I believe that this Pharisee is a perfect pattern of self-righteousness. He represents the five features which are characteristic of self-righteousness.

We’ll read the parable. It’s in Luke 18 beginning at verse 9 and going through verse 14. And I want you to note, incidentally, it’s a parable. It’s not something that actually happened, but it’s something that’s illustrative of principles.

“And He,” that’s Jesus, “spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’” And the Greek says, “to me the sinner.” “I’m the sinner that needs your mercy.”

Then Jesus comments,

“I tell you, this man,” the publican, “went down to his house justified rather than the other,” the Pharisee. “For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”

Now, that’s a law that governs the universe. Everyone that exalts himself will be abased. Conversely, everyone that humbles himself will be exalted. So, it sets before each of us a choice.

You can sum it up like this: The way up is the way down. The further down you go, the higher up God will lift you. But if you try to exalt yourself, the further up you go, the further down God will place you.

Now, let’s look at the five distinctive features of the Pharisee’s self-righteousness. First of all, he was entirely self-centered. And that’s characteristic of self-righteousness. Let me make this observation.

In the past 12 years or so, I’ve dealt with hundreds of people that needed deliverance from demons. And I’ve observed that all of them had one characteristic in common: They were all self-centered. I don’t think there ever was an exception to that statement. Self-centeredness is a prison the devil makes for us.

Notice his self-centeredness. First of all, he trusted in himself. And then, I think this is so characteristic. It says in verse 14,

“He stood and prayed thus with himself.”

Have you ever met people who pray with themselves? You know, they say prayers, but they’re not directed towards God. They’re just wrapped up in themselves and their own religiousness.

Secondly, and this is the really dangerous and deadly part of it, he despised others. He trusted in himself that he was righteous and despised others. And I believe that’s always a byproduct of self-righteousness, that self-righteous people come to despise others.

The third feature is that his standard of comparison was totally unscriptural. He compared himself with other people.

“God, I thank thee, that I am not like other men,”

particularly this publican here. I want to say to you, and we’ll look at it later, that’s a totally unscriptural standard of comparison. God does not compare us with others, and He does not encourage us to compare ourselves with others.

Fourthly, and again this is totally typical, he had his own little list of rules, which were tailor-made to suit himself. And primarily, they were negatives. They were not primarily the things he did, they were primarily the things he didn’t do. He wasn’t unjust, he wasn’t an extortioner, he wasn’t an adulterer, he wasn’t even like the publican. And then he had two little positive rules: He fasted twice every week, and he gave tithes of all that he possessed. Again, this is typical of human nature.

When I was a soldier in the British Army many years ago, and the Lord saved me in the army, the change in my life impressed many of my fellow soldiers, and they would come to me at odd moments and, rather self-consciously, begin to talk to me about religion and all that. And I would talk to them about being saved. And then we would get onto the subject of sin. And I noticed, as soon as you talk to a sinner about sin, his defense is to come up with a little list of things he doesn’t do.

You know, “I don’t commit adultery.” That’s typical amongst soldiers. It’s not very common, but it’s one of their first claims. Or, “I don’t beat my wife.” Or, “I pay,” what we used to say in those days in England, “20 shillings in the pound.” It’s changed now. And I noticed everyone had his own little list that just suited him. And that was his defense against any charge that he was a sinner.

And this is typical of the Pharisee. He had his own little list of rules. And the fifth point about the Pharisee’s righteousness was it was entirely static. It allowed no room for change or progress. All he had was his little set of rules, and all he intended to do was go on keeping his rules. That was the beginning and the end of his religion.

Now, we often talk about legalism, but I think sometimes we don’t define what we’re talking about. Legalism, meaning in some sense resting or basing your righteousness on a law or the law, whatever we like to say. The other day, a friend of mine, who’s a Catholic, offered me this definition of legalism, which I think is very, very good. He said, “In essence, legalism is making the law an end in itself and losing sight of the real purpose for which the law was given.” I think that’s excellent. Let me say it again. Legalism is making the law an end in itself and thus losing sight of the real purpose for which the law was given. And so, a legalist becomes entrapped in his own rules and loses the vision of why the rules were given.