He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 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. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' 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!' 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."
Luke 18:9-14 - NRSV
At first pass, the words of Jesus might have us think that this parable is about those who are humble before God, and those who are not. "For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted." And that point would not be unimportant. But this story is about much more than the relationships between humans and God.
Luke is careful to provide an introduction to the parable that gives the real interpretive clue here: "He told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt." The Pharisee is the "self-righteous" soul looking down at the "sinful" tax collector. The Pharisee's sin of pride against God is compounded by his arrogance toward his fellow worshiper, his fellow human being.
We can see the Pharisee speaking pridefully toward the tax collector, but in what way is the tax collector's treatment of the Pharisee humble? The tax collector stayed on the margins, on the boundary, and would not even come close to the other worshipers because of his self-perceived unworthiness. The Pharisee is standing by himself, too, but it seems apparent that he is doing so to avoid the contamination of his lesser company, and not as an act of humility. It seems intuitively obvious to say that we don't want to be like the Pharisee, but rather like the tax collector in this parable.
But are we innocent of similar prideful and demeaning acts? Are we so innocent of prejudice? I think that it is rare that we totally avoid these things. Let me demonstrate.
As most of us read this parable, we tend to read it with a certain unrealized prejudice. When we read or hear the word "Pharisee," we are already prepared to jump to the conclusion that something unpleasant is about to be said or done by that person. But is that what Jesus intended? We would readily admit, based on what we have heard about first century tax collectors, that the tax collector is totally out of character for tax collectors when he behaves in this pious, reverent, and humble manner. This is not what we would expect from a tax collector, after all.
Why then do we paint an entire fellowship of Jewish people, the Pharisees, with broad paint strokes as arrogant and prideful? I believe that this is a result of an interpretive prejudice that we have learned over the past centuries from the language of others. If the tax collector is out of character for his class, then why can't we see that this is what Jesus intended for us to see about the Pharisee as well? For the sake of the clarity and strength of the parable, doesn't it seem much more likely that the people to whom Jesus spoke the parable would be astonished that a well-behaved, Torah-loving, daily-prayerful Pharisee would behave in this prideful way? The contrast in character would make the wrongness of the behavior stand out that much more clearly.
The problem is that we tend to believe and use the language that we have been given instead of looking hard at the world around us and using our own judgment. Since we don't see a lot of real, Jewish Pharisees running around in our contemporary world, how does this affect us as we live our life this week? Let me give you one example.
Consider the rhetoric that we use about the poor in America. "They don't want to work." "Why should they work all day long and make less than they would if they were on welfare." "This is America: if they would only pull themselves up by their bootstraps, they could find a way to make a living and move up in the world." "They are shiftless and lazy." Are these statements true? Perhaps sometimes, but usually these arrogant truisms tell other people more about us than they do about the people of whom we speak.
This is especially risky for those who work with at-risk children. Yes, the behavior of these children frequently makes us cranky. But how much of that behavior is the result of severe traumas inflicted much earlier in their life? How much of that behavior is the result of unintentional trauma that we inflict by the names we call their behavior, or the pigeonholes we place them in because of that behavior? Should we be surprised if they behave like outsiders if we treat them as outsiders? I don't think that any of us does this intentionally, but aren't there ways that this kind of behavior sneaks up on us?
How about the families of these children? Yes, some of these people drive us nuts. But how might we be driving them nuts? Are we really always innocent? What are we doing that plays into their fears without realizing it? Do we think that it might be scary for a parent, already afraid that she is losing her child, to hear that her baby would rather spend his holiday with you than with her? I know how I would feel about that. How about their ability to come see their kids? Do we ever bemoan how seldom they visit these boys that we love? But can you imagine how difficult it is to support two other kids as a single parent while holding a barely-above minimum wage job? And then have to buy gas at $4.00 a gallon to get your piece of junk over 100 miles away from home and back?
We have to be careful that our good intentions don't lead us to unintentional arrogance and blindness. We need to remember that we're not just one generation away from poverty, but that if circumstances were to change, we could be just weeks or months away from that same kind of debilitating poverty ourselves. "But for the grace of God, there go I."
Which leads us back to the Pharisee. What if the Pharisee had prayed, "Lord, but for your grace, I would know the heartbreak of this tax collector. Show me how to help him." How much different would the world have been. If we can pray and enact this kind of prayer about those whom our lives touch, how much more powerful will our ministry be? How different will our world become?
