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!’
- Luke 18:11-13
I made a rather bold statement the other day to another Reformed Christian. I said, “We Five Pointers are probably the best elixir the unbelievers have for coming to Christ.” Naturally, my colleague stared at me aghast and asked me, “why?” I then proceeded to lay out my case by pointing to those “Christians” most believers encounter. I think you’ve seen them and I’m almost certain you have heard them pontificate on how pious they believe they are, very much like the Pharisee in Luke’s parable.
Naturally, unbelievers are outraged that anyone would come off as though they somehow had the market on personal perfection or holiness. I know I am. I know how far I still fall from grace in my daily life. I know that I am constantly in need of repentance and make no bones about admitting it. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” - 1 John 1:8.
I tell the unbelievers in my sphere of influence that I, more than anyone I know, need churching and continual sanctification. Now don’t misconstrue what I mean by “churching.” It is merely a concept that is easy to grasp for those who don’t practice the Christian faith. And it is certainly easier for my acquaintances and co-workers to approach me about matters of faith when they feel that I do not claim to hold a morally superior position. I am quick to tell them that all men are sinners . . . including myself. Now again, before my words are misinterpreted, I don’t imply that my sinfulness counts in my favor - “What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound? Certainly not! How shall we who died to sin live any longer in it?” - Romans 6:1-2. And with my imperfections in view, there are those who are more willing to at least listen to what I have to say.
This nonsense that we Christians are somehow immune to temptation, that we are somehow held above human weakness by a band of angels, is ludicrous. We sometimes stumble; we sometimes fall. Even the most prayerful of us is prone to a moment of human frailty and we will continue to be so this side of glory. Your sins may be different than mine but they will still be sinful. And so our lives are to be spent in a state of constant repentance. Try to remember the first of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses - “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, “Repent” (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” Our entire life! We are not to merely exhibit our personal holiness on “sanctifying Sundays.”
Perhaps Paul explains it better, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” - Galatians 2:20. Yes, we are to be like a city on a hill. Yes, we are to be like lamp-stands - “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16. After all, our primary purpose here on earth is to glorify God (WLC #1). This is a tall order so we must present ourselves as sojourners like the rest of mankind, but set apart by the grace of God. By the grace of God! And that is the only difference between God’s elect and those trapped in the darkness of unbelief. We are all beggars attending the King’s banquet and until we are glorified in His presence we will all come dressed in rags. The only difference between our sins and theirs is that our sins have been covered and forgiven by the blood of Jesus Christ at the beggar’s banquet. “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7. By God’s tender mercies we who have been chosen will be purged clean.