Two Prayers in the Temple

“Then Jesus told this story to some who had great confidence in their own righteousness and scorned everyone else: ‘Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee and the other was a despised tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed this prayer: I thank you God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else. For I don’t cheat, I don’t sin and I don’t commit adultery. I’m certainly not like that tax collector! I fast twice a week and I give you a tenth of my income.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, ‘O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.’ I tell you this sinner, not the Pharisee, returned home justified before God. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.’” (Luke 18:9-14) (Also read Joel 2:23-32; Psalm 65; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18) Prayer is surely one of the most intimate of human experiences. That we pray, how we pray, what we pray for say a great deal about us. For some, prayer means precious little. Prayer is often misunderstood and misused.  Here are two men who come to the temple. They are two vastly different characters. One is so good he can hardly stand it. The other is so bad he can hardly stand it. The first would be quickly identified in our world as a patriot, a respected community leader, a church pillar. The other would be seen as a traitor, a turncoat, an untouchable. Yet in the end, it is the unlikely publican who goes away having been touched by YAHVEH.

I.) First, there was the Pharisee. He was not a bad man. In fact, he was a good man, a very good man. He would be glad to tell you so; and did. Look at his prayer in the temple. It really is no prayer at all. The ingredients of authentic prayer are missing. There was no real thanksgiving; for he had no sense of blessings received. It was more self-congratulation. There was no petition made. Why would he ask for anything when he had no conscious need? There was no confession, for there was no admission of guilt. The prayer was addressed to YAHVEH, but that was more a temporary upward glance; more for effect, you might say. There is then a sudden downward glance to “this other man” who appeared stained and darkened when compared to own his gleaming whiteness or so he thought. Notice the illusion that marked his life. “I thank Thee that I am not like other people; not greedy, not unrighteous, not an adulterer; not like other people.” And I want to say, “Oh really! What, you’re not flesh and blood like the rest of us? Do you somehow walk without touching the ground? Are you without sin of any kind? What is this? It is a grandiose and dishonest illusion. It is living out a lie.” The sad thing about the Pharisee in the parable was that he bought into the illusion. He truly believed that he was “not like other men.” Having clarified with heaven his list of abstentions from evil, he moved to describe his invaluable acts of goodness. He would fast twice a week, though the law was fulfilled by fasting only once a year. He gave a tithe of every “gain” he made. He was a good man, make no mistake about it. And no one ought ever to denigrate the value of such lives. Such close attention to matters of faith is to be honoured. Why then, does Yeshua make him out to be the villain in the story? There was only one thing that I can see: his goodness was only for show. These were outward expressions intended to draw attention to himself. He wasn’t real. Five times in this brief encounter he used the personal pronoun “I.” I wonder if there is something here about how believers tend to avoid authentic encounters with YAHVEH. Could it be that he was covering up the emptiness? Can it be that we, like the Pharisee, all too often are fully satisfied with a status quo religion that we fully understand and yes, even control?

II.) The second of the men, the publican, is the hero of this story. He is an unlikely hero. No one who heard the story would have suspected it. In fact, most would take offense at it. The publican was a nobody, a nonperson to the pious Jew and surely not worthy of so noble a place in a religious teaching. Yet Jesus said he was a man of virtue. Everything the publican said and did projected virtue. Even his body language, which we tend to make more out of in our day, portrays a man of character. He “stood afar off” as one not worthy to stand next to the righteous Pharisee. He “dared not raise his eyes to heaven.” He beat upon his chest. Every movement was a task of humility. The prayer he prayed was especially moving, a simple prayer that arose from deep in his soul that characterizes the honest plea of his heart. It was an agonizing entreaty: “YAHVEH, mercy me, the sinner.” “The sinner”! That’s the Greek of the text. It’s as if he were not sure that there was another sinner in the world, but he knew he was one. In the world of offenders, he was the most prominent. The sinner of sinners! Look further: it’s the publican who understands the nature of YEAHVEH. “YAHVEH, mercy me.” This man knew the very character of YAHVEH. “Though your sins be abundant, Adonai will abundantly pardon; though they be red like crimson, He shall make you whiter than snow.” “He is Adonai Eloheinu, merciful and gracious.” He is “slow to anger and plenteous in mercy.” “His mercy endureth to all generations.” The sinner does not receive mercy because he is a sinner, but because YAHVEH is merciful. The publican was an honest man. It takes that you know, to make a strong Christian. One of the most frightening aspects of our faith is that we believe YAHVEH knows us better than we know ourselves. YAHVEH knows our hearts. We can maintain an outward image that may well fool all others around us, but we can’t fool YAHVEH. The Pharisees, Yeshua said, dressed themselves up to look nice, but on the inside they were evil; whitewashed tombs on the exterior, Yeshua said, but on the inside full of dead men’s bones. Prayer, it occurs to me, when it is real, is a time of getting honest with YAHVEH. It doesn’t require a certain pious language or position; only the agonizing and often brutal searching of our souls. It is getting honest with YAHVEH. “Eloheinu, Hineini (here I am). This is how I feel. This is where I hurt. Here is my deepest need. I am burdened over this. I am convicted of that. I rejoice over this. I give thanks for that.” We cannot hide from YAHVEH. “Before Him no creature is hidden, but all are open and lay bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do,” said the writer of Hebrews. I suspect that some of us feel that this instant. Maybe that’s why we are here, because we need it so.

III.) The conclusion of the matter comes abruptly. “I say unto you, this man, the publican, is justified; the other is not.” This one is pronounced right by YAHVEH, forgiven and accepted. It’s not that his misdeeds were suddenly acceptable. They weren’t. It’s not that his struggles in life were instantly over. They weren’t. It is simply that his humility found favour with YAHVEH. It always does. There is comfort to be taken in the passage. For all of us who live by the sense of urgent demand we know YAHVEH has placed us under, here is the other side. On one hand, “Take up your Cross and follow men. Any who tend to look back are not worthy for the Kingdom of YAHVEH. All have sinned and fall short of the glory of YAHVEH.” But now, on the other hand, words of grace and mercy: “Blessed are the poor in Spirit, the Kingdom of YAHVEH will be yours. Blessed are those who mourn, you will be comforted. Come unto me all who labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.”