Ash Wednesday

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The Danger of Spiritual Arrogance: Finding True Humility Before God

Have you ever encountered someone whose confidence crossed the invisible line into arrogance? Perhaps they couldn't help but one-up every story, claim expertise in everything, or refuse to acknowledge even the smallest mistake. We've all met that person—and if we're honest, we've probably been that person at times.
This struggle between confidence and arrogance, between humility and self-deprecation, reveals something profound about our spiritual condition. It exposes the heart attitude we bring before God and determines whether we leave His presence justified or still trapped in our pride.

Two Men, Two Hearts

Jesus told a striking parable about two men who went to the temple to pray—a Pharisee and a tax collector. Their contrasting approaches reveal everything about how God views our hearts.
The Pharisee stood prominently and prayed: "God, thank you that I am not like these other people—these robbers and evildoers and adulterers, or even like this tax collector over there. I fast twice a week and I give a tenth of all that I get."
His prayer began with comparison. He measured his righteousness against others rather than against God's holiness. He catalogued the sins of those around him, perhaps even pointing them out. His thanksgiving became mockery, his confidence transformed into contempt.
Then came his resume of religious accomplishments: fasting twice weekly, tithing meticulously. These weren't bad practices—they were commendable religious disciplines. But notice how he presented them: as evidence of his superiority, as reasons God should be impressed with him.
The tax collector took an entirely different approach. He stood at a distance, unwilling even to lift his eyes toward heaven. He beat his chest—a sign of genuine heartache and repentance—and simply prayed: "God, have mercy on me, for I am a sinner."
No comparison to others. No list of accomplishments. No excuses or explanations. Just raw, honest acknowledgment of his unworthiness before a holy God.

The Verdict That Surprises

Jesus delivered a stunning conclusion: "I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
The religious expert left unjustified. The despised tax collector left forgiven.
Why? Because one took credit while the other took responsibility. One compared himself to people; the other measured himself against God's holiness. One saw no need for mercy; the other knew mercy was his only hope.
The Pharisee's problem wasn't that he fasted or tithed—these were good practices. His problem was that he trusted in his own righteousness and looked down on everyone else. He approached God as if he were doing God a favor by being so religious.
The Standard We Cannot Meet
Romans reminds us that "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." God's standard is perfection, holiness without blemish. No matter how close we come, we still miss the mark. No matter how much better we are than others, we still fall short of God's glory.
The Pharisee might have been doing many things right, but he still missed God's standard. The tax collector knew he was far from the mark, but at least he was honest about it. And here's the beautiful truth: God's grace covers the distance for both—but only if we're humble enough to admit we need it.
Think about it this way: if God's standard is perfection and we all fall short, what if the self-righteous Pharisee was actually further from God than the humble tax collector? His arrogance alone—his belief that he was better than "those people"—might have placed him lower than the man he despised.

The Ashes of Mortality

Ash Wednesday calls us to remember a sobering truth: "You are dust, and to dust you shall return." We are mortal, fragile, finite creatures standing before an eternal, holy, infinite God. Apart from His mercy and grace, we have no hope.
This season of Lent invites us into forty days of spiritual preparation—a time for self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, and renewal. It's a season to acknowledge our complete dependence on God's grace rather than our own goodness.
The early church used this season to prepare converts for baptism and to restore those who had fallen away from faith. The entire congregation was reminded of their need for God's mercy and the renewal of their faith. It was never about comparing ourselves to others but about honestly assessing ourselves before God.

A Broken and Contrite Heart

Psalm 51 captures the heart attitude God desires: "My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart—these, O God, you will not despise."
God doesn't want our religious resume. He doesn't want our comparisons to others. He doesn't want our excuses or our arrogance. He wants our honesty, our humility, our acknowledgment that we desperately need Him.
Create in me a pure heart, O God. Wash me and I will be whiter than snow. Restore to me the joy of your salvation. These are the prayers of someone who understands their true condition before God.

Amazing Grace for Wretched Souls

The gospel is good news precisely because we're in such bad shape. If we could save ourselves through our own righteousness, we wouldn't need a Savior. If we could measure up through our own efforts, grace would be unnecessary.
But we can't. And that's why grace is so amazing.
The hand that held the nail that pierced Jesus belongs to each of us. Our sin—past, present, and ongoing—put Him on that cross. Not someone else's sin. Not "those people's" sin. Ours.
When we truly grasp this, we stop comparing ourselves to others. We stop patting ourselves on the back for our religious accomplishments. We stop making excuses. Instead, we fall on our knees like that tax collector and cry out, "God, have mercy on me, a sinner."
And here's the miracle: when we come in humility, acknowledging our complete unworthiness, God responds with complete forgiveness. We go home justified—not because we earned it, but because of His amazing grace.

The Posture That Changes Everything

So which person are you today? The Pharisee, confident in your own righteousness, comparing yourself favorably to others? Or the tax collector, standing at a distance, overwhelmed by your unworthiness?
The truth is, we're probably both at different times. But God calls us to the posture of humility, to honest self-examination, to genuine repentance. He calls us to stop exalting ourselves and to let Him lift us up instead.
As we journey through this season, may we approach God with broken and contrite hearts. May we remember that we are dust, saved only by grace. And may we experience the joy of being justified—not by our own righteousness, but by His mercy alone.
For it is by grace we are saved, through faith—and this not from ourselves, it is the gift of God.