There are certain words that just don’t go together. Alone, they have potency and meaning, but when used in tandem, they seemingly negate each other. Like an acid and a base, left alone they each retain their independent properties, but when mixed, they neutralize each other.

Now, in literature, this type of device is used to good effect to create meaning. It’s called oxymoron, and there’s some great examples of this vocabulary contradiction out there. Consider some of these samples:

• alone together
• awful good
• bittersweet
• civil war
• crash landing
• defening silence
• definite maybe
• devout athiest
• even odds
• freezer burn
• good grief
• growing smaller
• icy hot
• ill health
• loyal opposition

The list could go on, but you get the picture. Used in the right context, these contradictory combinations can have a powerful effect as they force the mind to relate two opposite concepts and marry them into a single meaning.

There are certain words, however, that won’t go together no matter how literary you try to be. Like oil and water, they both repel each other to such a degree that they will forever live in opposition. You’ll never see an oxymoronic phrase with them.

I think one such pair of words would be pride and thankfulness. No matter how you dice it, pride and thankfulness will never meet. They will never mix. They will never shake hands and play nice, no matter how much they appear to be. They will forever be enemies, because they represent two completely different worldviews, one of the world, and the other of the kingdom of God.

The parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector from Luke 18:9-14 is a crystal-clear example of the antithetical nature of pride and thanks. Here, Jesus tells a story of two men, both seemingly opposite of each other.

On the surface, Jesus’ hearer’s would immediately assume certain things about these individuals. The Pharisee, they would assume, is the supreme religious example. They were highly regarded in Jewish society, and assumed by default to be the holiest, most devout individuals in the land. The tax collector, on the other hand, represents the exact opposite. He was the epitome of contempt for one’s religion, for one’s heritage, for one’s nation, and for one’s own people. He saw money as more important than compassion, and he used his influence with the Roman occupiers as a means of gaining wealth for himself.

In other words, to the Jews who listened to Jesus’ parable, the Pharisee represented everything good about Judaism…faithfulness, holiness, and devotion…while the tax collector represented the extreme opposite…treachery and greed.

The irony of the story, of course, is that everything the people assumed about these individuals was backwards. In fact, Jesus uses unexpectedness as a device to produce shock and make his point.

The Pharisee had all the outward appearances of a religious, pious man. He prayed, fasted regularly, and separated himself out from those he considered unholy. The demeanor of the tax collector, however, is wholly unexpected. He stands aloof at the temple. His head is lowered in abject shame. He beats his chest in mourning. And he pleads desperately with God for mercy, owning his sin.

Likewise, Jesus’ parable leads to a very unexpected place. He gets to the end and announces that it is, in fact, the tax collector who enjoys forgiveness and mercy from God and not the other. That would be shocking to the folks listening to this parable. It should be shocking to us if we would let it be.

But what’s very interesting is that in the opening words of the Pharisee, we have a sneak peak at where this parable is going even from the start. The parable, after all, is about God’s grace toward the humble: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (v. 14). This is what makes the Pharisee’s words truly ironic: “The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you…’” (v. 11).

We might be tempted to see the greatest contrast as being between the Pharisee and the tax collector. But in reality, I would make the case that the greatest contrast stands alone with the Pharisee himself. Here he is, standing in God’s house, projecting himself as the monument of holy virtue, reciting his self-praise publicly, and baptizing it with the holy water of thankfulness. A more vile hypocrisy could hardly be imagined.

But that’s the nature of sin. It’s deceptive, and we sinners often embrace that deception and make it our own, buying the lie that we can be both prideful and thankful at the same time without once thinking about the fact that these two attitudes are incapable of breathing the same air.

Thanklessness is one of the chief catalysts for God’s judgment on the wicked:

For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. (Romans 1:21)

Likewise, pride is one of the foremost attitudes which drives the judgment to come in the Day of the Lord:

Enter into the rock and hide in the dust from before the terror of the Lord, and from the splendor of his majesty. The haughty looks of man shall be brought low, and the lofty pride of men shall be humbled, and the Lord alone will be exalted in that day. (Isa 2:10-11)

For the Lord of hosts has a day against all that is proud and lofty, against all that is lifted up—and it shall be brought low; against all the cedars of Lebanon, lofty and lifted up; and against all the oaks of Bashan; against all the lofty mountains, and against all the uplifted hills; against every high tower, and against every fortified wall; against all the ships of Tarshish, and against all the beautiful craft. And the haughtiness of man shall be humbled, and the lofty pride of men shall be brought low, and the Lord alone will be exalted in that day. (Isa 2:12-17)

Why are pride and thankfulness so opposed to one another? It’s because pride is the epitome of self-sufficiency. If you’re self-sufficient and need no one; if you’re the source of your own goodness and virtue; if no one else can claim superiority over who you are and what you have, then who are you thankful to? Yourself? As soon as the prideful person offers thankfulness, he either admits he’s not as good as he thinks he is (a conclusion that will not stand for the prideful person) or he exposes his own hypocrisy.

This is why the Bible stresses so often that Christians exhibit thankfulness. Just consider the following exhortations:

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. (Col 3:15)

And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Col 3:17)

Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. (Heb 13:15)

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thess 5:16-18)

do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. (Phil 4:6)

If you’re a Christian, you’re the recipient of amazing gifts you could never have earned through your own merits. That’s why thankfulness should be the most natural expression of a genuine Christian. But it’s not that simple. We battle the flesh everyday with the temptation to disregard these amazing gifts of grace and mercy in the gospel, tantalized by the notion that we’re better than we are, stronger than we are, more self-sufficient than we are.

So as we head into this Thanksgiving weekend, it’s a good reminder amid the food and the fun to stop and do a little introspection and ask yourself…”Am I really thankful?” If you’re struggling with thankfulness, then you know what the real problem is already: there’s pride to deal with. Kill the pride, and you revive the thankfulness. But don’t buy the lie that the two can be friends. These are two enemies that can never be reconciled.