Eleventh Sunday after Trinity - August 16, 2026

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

One superhero power that we might think is cool for a time but really would not be great in the long-run is reading people’s minds. We may wish that we could read people’s minds, but we also know what goes on in ours, and we should probably realize that it’s good that we can’t read the minds of others. The closest we can come is by listening to people’s words. Yes, we can know someone by their actions, but their words also matter. Jesus affirms this, “What comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart” (Matt 15:18). But we should pay attention both to what is said and what is not said. Sometimes what isn’t said matters more.

This is certainly the case with two pairs of individuals in our readings for today. You can look at their words and find them understandable. But what they don’t say matters a whole lot. Both what they say and what they don’t say tell you about their heart.

First, God had no regard for Cain’s sacrifice, but He had regard for Abel’s. Initially, we’re not told what their regard means or how each of them knew that God regarded their sacrifice. But, what is in Cain’s heart becomes evident very quickly. Even after God warns him about sin “crouching at the door,” and “its desire is for you” (7), he still chooses to kill Abel. What happens next is key. God asks Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” (9)—and the answer is found in his omission, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” He doesn’t confess his sin before the one who knows all things. Then, when God call him out for it and declares the punishment for Cain, we all should realize what’s in Cain’s heart. He says, “My punishment is greater than I can bear” (13). He doesn’t say, “I’m sorry, and I repent of my sin.”

He doesn’t apologize or take responsibility for his actions. Rather, he complains about his punishment, effectively complaining to God that “you spanked me too hard.” Even receiving this response, there is some mercy from God, putting a mark on him so that bloodguilt stops with Cain. God perhaps wanted to give Cain a whole lifetime’s opportunity to actually repent. We get no indication that he did.

Switching gears, the Pharisee looks like the exact opposite person to Cain. He is morally upright. He hasn’t murdered anyone. He tells God that he’s “not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector” (11). From an external perspective, that’s good. But listen to his words. “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” (11–12). What’s missing is any recognition that he needs God. He is utterly missing is a heart that loves God or trusts in Him. He thinks that God is there for a transaction: if I do these things, then you will love me and do things for me. God doesn’t want that. Above all, God wants to give His righteousness to people who recognize that they aren’t righteous.

This leads us to the other two individuals in our story: Abel and the tax collector. We don’t know exactly what was in Abel’s heart, because we never hear him speak. Nonetheless, we hear this important verse: “Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions. And the Lord had regard for Abel and his offering” (4). It might be tempting to think that he offered the right sacrifice, and Cain offered the wrong one, “an offering of the fruit of the ground” (3). But there is more that’s going on.

First, God had not yet commanded what type of offering that they should bring to Him. But even after God commands the particular type, he still says this from Psalm 50:

“Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you;

   your burnt offerings are continually before me.

9 I will not accept a bull from your house

   or goats from your folds.

10 For every beast of the forest is mine,

   the cattle on a thousand hills.

11 I know all the birds of the hills,

   and all that moves in the field is mine.

12 “If I were hungry, I would not tell you,

   for the world and its fullness are mine.

13 Do I eat the flesh of bulls

   or drink the blood of goats?

14 Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving,

   and perform your vows to the Most High,

15 and call upon me in the day of trouble;

   I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me” (8–15).

God didn’t eat the flesh of bulls or the blood of goats. What He wanted was for people to call upon him so He could deliver them. We get this echoed in the next Psalm: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps 51:17) This is Abel. God had regard for his sacrifice because he had a broken and contrite heart. He knew that He needed God.

This is also the heart of the tax collector in Jesus’s parable. “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!’” (13). Even though this tax collector was regarded as one of the worst men in Israelite society, he was sorry for his sin. He didn’t act like Cain by hiding his sin or complaining about the punishment. He held nothing back. He calls himself a sinner. He recognizes that He is empty, and God can fill him. He is dead in sin, and only God can make alive (Eph 2:1, 6). His phrase “be merciful to me” is better translated from the Greek as “may the blood of the sacrifices cover my sin.” It’s not the typical word for mercy, but the word for the mercy seat on top of the ark of the covenant, where the blood of sacrifices was poured. He’s asking for atonement, where life is exchanged for life. He receives it, which is why Jesus says that he goes home justified, declared righteous before God.

This too is how we should regard our lives. We ought to have a robust understanding of original sin and how it manifests in our life. That was the problem with the Pharisee. He was proud because he didn’t see his own sin. He thought he was already righteous. But we also ought to have a clear understanding of God’s work in our lives. When we recognize our sin and repent, know that God does have mercy on you. He sent His Son Jesus to shed His blood for you to cleanse you of all sin. All of the sacrifices of the Old Testament were meant to point you forward to Jesus. The blood of bulls and lambs served for a time to cover the sins of the people. “The blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). That is how you become righteous: not by doing good deeds to prove to God how righteous you are, but by receiving righteousness from Him. Jesus has taken all your sin upon His shoulders, and He gives you the righteousness that He won for you on the cross. Now, when God sees you, He no longer sees a sinner, but He sees you through Christ as someone who is righteous because of the blood of Jesus.

So what about works? Do they matter anymore? Yes, they matter, but not before God as if they earned salvation or favor. God desires that we do good works because our neighbor needs them. After proclaiming that salvation is by grace through faith, not a result of works, St. Paul follows it up with this: “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Eph 2:10). God has made you. He has made good works for you to do. How can husbands love wives and wives love husbands? How can parents raise children, and children obey parents? How can we interact with one another in love?  There are countless works that God has put before us to walk in. So walk in them.

The conclusion to these stories of Cain and Abel, the Pharisee and the Tax Collector is more than just “do the right things.” It is a shift of mindset, a shift of faith. It ought to be a recognition of our great need for God and His gifts. We do not need to read other people’s minds to know that they are sinners. We ought to read our own mind and know the sinful thoughts that happen there. It is scary that God can see our thoughts? Yes, perhaps it is. It is also humbling. And when we are humbled, we are exalted. God raises us up from our shame and guilt, reminds us that He loves us and forgives us and declares us righteous. Then our conscience is at peace, for “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). We can know God’s mind by following His words, knowing that He will never deceive us or lie to us.

The peace of Christ, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.