Reflection on the Parable of the Pharisee and Tax Collector

One thing our time at Jubilee has provided is a space for me to share some reflections during Sunday evening worship.  This is not something I was expecting when thinking about coming to Jubilee, but it has been a lower pressure way to study and share some insights on various passages.  The following is a reflection I shared last October about the parable of the Pharisee and Tax Collector found in Luke 18:9-14, here's the Bible text from the NRSV:

⁹ He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: ¹⁰ “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. ¹¹ The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ¹² I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ ¹³ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ ¹⁴ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Following is the reflection I shared at Jubilee worship last term:

There once was a lovely Cathedral in New York City.  Many pilgrims visited it to pray and commune with God.  It had elaborate stonework, beautiful stained glass windows, and inspired a sense of awe in those who saw it.  One day two visitors entered the cathedral.  One was a well known pastor of a very popular mega-church.  His hair was pristine; he was wearing a trendy dress shirt and a nicely pressed pair of dress pants.  He had driven 3 hours to pray at this cathedral.  The other was a homeless woman who had wandered in off the street.  She was carrying a small garbage bag with all her earthly possessions.  Her hair was matted and dirty, her clothing was baggy and torn, she reeked of alcohol.  The pastor walked up to the front of the church, took a seat in one of the pews, and began to pray.  “God, I thank you for all the wonderful work I have been able to do for you, and all the souls I have been able to save through my ministry.  Thank you that I am not lazy or a drunk, like that hag back there.”

The homeless woman slumped to the floor in the back of the church and began to weep.  Her garbage bag lay strewn across the floor.  If you got close enough, you could hear her repeating these words, over and over again, through her sobs, “God, have mercy on me, I’m trash.”  I tell you the truth, this woman went home justified, rather than the pastor.

I like this modern version of the parable, it’s a nice parable.  It has two stereotypical characters, like the original, and the one that comes out on top is the one I was rooting for the whole time.  I tend to be suspicious of Christians who place more emphasis on saving souls than trying to help people in desperate circumstances, and I believe that God’s justice tilts toward the poor and marginalized.  I have an easy time accepting that God would turn a deaf ear to the prayer of the pastor and reach down in mercy upon the cry of the woman.

But, I don’t think this modern parable successfully conveys Jesus’ original story.  Jesus’ parables in general, and this one in particular have two special characteristics, they are relevant to the audience that hears them, and they are difficult.  The modern parable I just told doesn’t seem too relevant to us, and it doesn’t seem too difficult.  We want the homeless woman to come out on top, and we want the out of touch pastor to be brought down a notch.  If a parable makes us feel good and self-assured in the end, we’ve probably missed the point, that’s not usually the kind of parables Jesus told.

One difficulty in understanding this parable comes from the characters Jesus uses.  Anyone who has grown up with the Bible or spent much time reading the gospels can develop a warped sense of the Pharisees.  They are always the bad guys.  If you read the chapter heading “The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector”, without even reading the text you can guess that the Pharisee is going to come out on bottom and the Tax Collector is going to come out on top, it’s expected for us.  But that turn of events would have been shocking to first century Jews, Jesus’ audience.  The Pharisees were a Jewish renewal movement that desperately wanted God’s reign to come on earth.  They were seeking the fulfillment of the passages in Joel and Psalms, when God would vindicate Israel.  They dedicated their lives to living according to God’s commands, they were really serious about following God.  There was just one problem, and it’s what caused Jesus to be so harsh.  In their zeal to follow God perfectly, to do everything right, the Pharisees were imposing unrealistic legalism on everyone.  This should be understandable to us, whenever I feel like I’ve finally discovered the right way to do something, I want to tell everyone else, and convince them to do it too.  I like using the NRSV because it’s gender inclusive when referring to groups of people, so it’s easy for me to cringe when someone uses the KJV.  The Pharisees were a reform movement that started with great principles and ideals but had stagnated into a legalistic group of elitists.  Even if they sometimes missed the point, they were still doing far more to improve the situation of the Jews than the Tax Collectors.

The Tax Collectors on the other hand, were Jews working for Rome.  People hated them, they were helping the Imperial occupiers take advantage of and collect taxes from their fellow Jews.  They were becoming rich off of the misery of the poor among their own people.

So, if we really wanted to tell a modern rendition of this story, maybe it would go something like this:

There once was a lovely Cathedral in New York City.  Many pilgrims visited it to pray and commune with God.  It had elaborate stonework, beautiful stained glass windows, and inspired a sense of awe in those who saw it.  One day two visitors entered the cathedral.  One was a woman who had walked to the church from a soup kitchen down the block.  She had just finished her daily work serving lunch to the city’s homeless.  She advocated strongly for the rights of the homeless, and had recently spent a lot of time lobbying against new vagrancy laws that would make sleeping in parks illegal.  She walked to the church to conserve fossil fuels.  She was dressed in a simple blouse and pants, both made by a company who paid fair wages to its employees.  The other person entering the church was a lawyer.  He worked at a prestigious New York law firm, made a seven digit salary, and was dressed in a very expensive suit, made in Honduras in a sweat shop.  He had just finished doing extensive work trying to pass new vagrancy laws to criminalize homelessness.  He thought the prevalence of homeless people around the city was a blight, and that they’d all be better off if they got jobs and stopped spending all their welfare money on drugs and alcohol.  He drove up to the church in his expensive sports car.

The woman walked up to the front of the church, sat in a pew, and began to pray.  “God, I thank you for all the marvelous work I have been able to do.  I thank you that I could make a real difference in the lives of so many people today and that I could show them some of your love.  I thank you that I am trying to undo the evils of systemic poverty, and that I am not cold and callous to your children like that jerk back there.”

The lawyer fell down at the back of the church, prostrate in his suit and tie.  He began to weep openly.  Through his sobs you could just hear him say “God, have mercy on me, I’m trash”.  I tell you the truth, this man went home justified, rather than the woman.

So, in the end, we’re left with God’s mercy.  This isn’t the story of Zaccheus, the tax collector doesn’t go and give all his money to the poor, there’s no acknowledgement of guilt or change in behavior on the Tax Collector’s part, just a real, deep acknowledgement of his need for God’s mercy.  May God have mercy on us.

Thanks for reading,

Nate