Scripture Scribbles: October 26, 2025
the Gospel
Luke 18:19-14
Jesus addressed this parable
to those who were convinced of their own righteousness
and despised everyone else.
"Two people went up to the temple area to pray;
one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector.
The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,
'O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity --
greedy, dishonest, adulterous -- or even like this tax collector.
I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.'
But the tax collector stood off at a distance
and would not even raise his eyes to heaven
but beat his breast and prayed,
'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.'
I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former;
for whoever exalts himself will be humbled,
and the one who humbles himself will be exalted."
the scribble
Today’s Gospel has me pondering the ways that we hide ourselves. When I read the Pharisee’s prayer, I think about the relationships and situations in my life where it feels really important to be unassailable, where it feels really important to be better than someone else, where it feels terrifying to admit my own need for help and mercy.
Those relationships and situations are ones where there has been deep hurt in my story. And it feels much safer to draw up the walls of self-sufficiency and self-righteousness and put on the armor of my own merit than it does to risk letting anyone get close to (or even see) the tender places. Even the Lord.
In Adam’s words after the fall, “I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself.” (Genesis 3:10)
But the Lord already sees it. He sees the Pharisee and he sees me. He won’t force himself in, but he knows it all and he loves us there so deeply.
Early this year, I first heard the ancient Christian motto, Nudus nudum sequi Christum, “Naked to follow the naked Christ.”
I was immediately and intensely drawn to it. And at the same time, I recoiled from it.
That kind of nakedness is radical freedom and terrifying vulnerability.
Nakedness like that feels too dangerous.
But Christ, who is always teaching us how to be human, allowed himself to be stripped of all of the things we might cling to for protection. He allowed himself to appear before us all - his accusers and murderers - totally naked. He was abused, reviled, misunderstood, misrepresented, abandoned, tortured and killed. And yet his dignity only increased as he chose to stand firm in his identity as the beloved son and the bridegroom laying his life down for the bride.
What do we see when we look upon His nakedness?
We see His total freedom to live out God’s will.
We see God’s heart pouring out boundless love and mercy.
We see his intense desire to be united with us.
His nakedness on the cross helps us to know and trust him. And as we spend more time with him, we can feel safe to take off our layers of self-protection and self-righteousness. We can experience his tender care, love and healing in those heavily-guarded places where we most need it.
We can pray, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner’ with the humility and gratitude of one who knows that tender mercy is hers and the joy of one who has been ransomed.
Today’s devotion was written by Lucia Parker DeMarco
