A Meditation on the Pharisee and the Publican
[an older essay of mine I keep here for memory and progress of work] My attempt at an imaginative journal in the spirit of Ignatius. An assignment for class.
The Gospel reading for this Sunday is from the Gospel of Luke where Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. As Jesus tells the parable, I imagine the scene of the Pharisee and the tax collector entering the temple. On the one hand is the Pharisee, confirmed in his own pride, entering the temple with a posture of victory. He has come with the intention to give thanks to God for all the virtues he possesses and for his position in society. And yet, his mind is occupied, not so much with gratitude, but with an onanistic sense of all the right things he has done, including fasting and tithing. In the temple he gazes upward, yet his mind gazes downward into himself as he reminisces on the many qualities that distinguishes himself from others.
Soon-after, a known tax collector enters sullenly into the temple. He moves to a secluded area isolated from sight, but within viewing distance of the Pharisee. Spotting the tax collector in his periphery, the Pharisee momentarily shifts his upward gaze to glance down at the tax collector. His face grimaces in disgust and his heart wells up with contempt. Here we have a traitor to his people, a parasite that strengthens the dominion of Caesar, he thinks to himself. The Pharisee swiftly returns his gaze upward, filled with an even greater conviction of his own righteousness.
The tax collector remains slouched, his head down, full of remorse and sorrow. His heart is filled with pain as he struggles with feelings of division. He recalls his humble upbringing, being raised in a pious Jewish household. He recalls himself as a child with wonder in his eyes as his father gleefully conveyed to him the story of Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt. His conscience was formed according to the teachings of the Torah, and yet he had spent the last three years as a tax collector. For the past three years he was drawn to the life of wealth, pleasure, and stature, a life so different from his upbringing. However, his childhood commitment to the Torah had deep roots that seized his conscience as the gnawing anxiety within him weighed heavier in his chest. These thoughts and feelings all swirled in his mind when he suddenly clenched his fist and beat his chest, his face contorted in anguish. No longer wishing to live a life divided, and with a bowed head he cried out to God for mercy. Though his head was cast down with closed eyes, his prayer shot upwards like lightning, his petition reaching the heavens, penetrating the heart of God.