If, as a congregation, we hope to serve those among our members who struggle with this issue as well as reach out to those around us in a society so confused and perplexed in sexual matters, we need to reflect on what kind of face we present to the world. As Robbie Burns once said, it is a real gift to be able to “see ourselves as others see us.”

The face we present to the world is deeply influenced by how we view our congregation and our church. Do we picture it in our minds as a fortress with a huge wall around it to keep outsiders out and insiders in? Or do we see it as a hospital for the sick, the troubled, the walking wounded? Perhaps even a band of ragged refugees on their way to the eternal city?

When Jesus was asked by the Pharisees why he practiced table hospitality with those who were clearly sinners, and why he held intimate conversations with those who were not righteous, this is what he said in reply,

“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Matthew 9:12-13).

Sad to say, the visible church has not always lived up to our Lord’s vision of what it could be. One of the reasons for this is that each of us still harbors a hidden Pharisee in our hearts.

The essence of Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees was not so much their understanding of the law. True, they had, at times, emphasized human traditions to the detriment of the law’s full rigor, as if human tradition was more important than what the law actually said (Mark 7:8-9).

But he also affirmed the fact that the scribes and Pharisees sat in Moses’ seat; that is, they were Moses’ authoritative successors and should be listened to (Matthew 23:2-4). They, too, understood that the essence of the law was to love God above all and love their neighbors as themselves (see Luke 10:25-28). With this understanding of the law, Jesus found himself in perfect agreement (see Matthew 22:35-40).

No, the focus of Jesus’ criticism was not on their understanding of the law but on their superior attitude in applying the law to others. In a word, they were self-righteous. In fact, some of Jesus’ harshest criticism was directed at this habitual way of thinking. For example, he told the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector against those “who were confident that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else” (Luke 18:9).

This sense of superiority is one of the easiest ways to become aware of the hidden Pharisee in our hearts. On a basic level, it is the attitude of seeing another person’s faults as being more grievous, more shameful, and more damnable than my own. Someone observes, “That woman seems to appreciate alcohol more than she should. I don’t particularly enjoy even social drinking.” The thought naturally occurs to the hidden Pharisee, “Lord, I thank you that I am not like her.”

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It’s not hard to apply this to the LGBTQ+ matters. Certainly, sexual sins as a general category are likely to be more shame-inducing than others. As Paul says, “All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually sins against their own body. Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Corinthians 6:18-19). The shame of such sins may linger. Confessing that I still struggle against such desires may be an even more painful admission.

But that doesn’t mean that one sin is intrinsically more evil than another. How self-deluding to think, “At least as a man, I struggle with lustful thoughts for women, and not for other men! Lord, I thank you that I am not like others” (see Matthew 5:28).

And the answer to that shame is the same for all, “But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” (1 Cor 6:11). Jesus bore our shame for us on the cursed tree. Though he had done nothing dishonorable, he became “as one from whom people hide their faces” (Isaiah 53:3). He endured the degradation of the cross, weighed down with our shameful deeds, to remove our dishonor and clothe us in his purity and holiness.

That’s why it is crippling to the life and ministry of a congregation if it gains a reputation for being harsh and graceless in its judgment of others. God designed it to be a place where penitent sinners gather together to receive the Lord’s forgiveness. Graceless ways amount to a denial of the efficacy of the cross. Let’s not kid ourselves, either. As certain as it is that we still have a sin-nature, so certain is it that we will–individually and collectively–have to do battle constantly with the Pharisee within.

In congregational life, the hidden Pharisee is often not so hidden. He shows himself in the disapproving stare, the dismissive snub, and the “light-hearted” joke at the expense of others who become punchlines in casual conversations. While seeming innocuous in the moment, the stares, snubs, and jokes reveal a troubling superiority. In heedless hallway chit-chat, some may imply that the LGBTQ community is more responsible for the breakdown of the family than divorce, workaholism, and materialism. Idle talk like this says clearly to any LGBTQ individual who has come to us looking for spiritual help, “There’s no room for you here! We offer you nothing but exclusion and rejection.”

Sad to say, we have to confess that these things happen among us more often than they should. When the congregation gathers in informal settings, the hidden Pharisee will also be circulating among us.

We’re not describing here one who stands up for God’s truth, but one who believes his grasp of the truth makes him superior to others who “don’t get it.” It is the misguided notion that “We’re all sinful, but some are more sinful than others.” The truth is, by nature, we all owe a debt that is impossible to repay (see Matthew 18:23-27)

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How do we keep the hidden Pharisee from gaining the upper hand? First of all, by being aware of his presence. Since we are all prone to sin, we can expect him to show up in what we say, how we act, and how we think. Once we become aware of him, we can only get rid of him by penitently counting him dead—nailed to the cross (Galatians 6:14). Buried with Christ in baptism, we then rise up new in him to live the resurrection life (Romans 6:4).

As we might expect, our Lord gives the best practical advice on how to proceed in this matter. He illustrates the problem by drawing for us a memorable picture. He once asked his disciples,

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:3-5).

Notice carefully that Jesus is not forbidding us to speak the truth about God’s will. Nor is he saying we should stop applying God’s Word to a specific sin our brother or sister has fallen into. To say that would be to contradict the many places where Scripture urges us to do those very things (Matthew 18:15; Ephesians 4:15; Galatians 6:1). Rather, observe that what Jesus is concerned about is our heart, our frame of mind, and our attitude when it is our place to speak to someone else about their sin.

As we’ve said, because all those born of Adam are sinful, we can expect to see sin’s impact on our lives. We all have “stuff”, in other words–sinful desires, attitudes, and actions that we penitently and daily struggle against. In this, we are all the same. In fact, since only I can be aware of the thoughts, desires, and feelings hidden in my heart, I should be far more aware of the magnitude of my own sin (the plank) when I compare it with the sin of someone else (the speck).

I know it took a whole lot of grace to cancel my massive debt, compared to my brother’s debt, which can only seem rather paltry. What rank hypocrisy it is, then, to think or act as if I am morally superior to anyone else! The truth is, I only stand by grace alone, and can boast of nothing but the cross of Jesus (Galatians 6:14).

Armed with this attitude, aware of my own sinfulness, and fortified with a sense of grace received, I am in a much better position to remove the speck that is in my brother’s eye. I seek to restore him gently. I admonish him as one sinner to another. I speak the truth in love.

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Hospital or fortress? That’s where we began this discussion. In Christ, we are confident that God is our glorious fortress. We need no other. In Him, we are kept safe from the world’s chaos (Psalm 46). That leaves us free to be a hospital whose doors are flung wide open to the lost, the troubled, the wounded, the sick, and the depressed. Jesus is our only Healer. We are here to love each other as he loves us..

Above the door is this inscription:

“Jesus welcomes sinners–of whom I am the worst” (Luke 15:2; 1 Timothy 1:15).