THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
FEW parables of the Lord are more familiar to us than that, the title of which stands at the head of this paper, and probably few scenes were more familiar to the Lord’s hearers than the one described by Him — the going up to the Temple for prayer. Happy indeed would it have been if those journeys to the sacred building had always been made in the true spirit of prayer, so that the words which He on another occasion quoted from the prophet might have been really fulfilled: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations.” Such seems to have been its design, though very singularly there is no mention of prayer in the entire Mosaic code. It is not enjoined, and no example is given of prayer, unless we class under that head the threefold benediction of the high priest and the “profession” of the Israelite at the offering of the basket of first fruits and “poors’ tithe.”
But Solomon, upon the consecration of the Temple, in his dedicatory supplication, recognizes prayer as an act suited to all states and conditions, and with it the Temple is closely connected. “O Lord my God, hearken unto the cry and to the prayer, which Thy servant prayeth before Thee to-day: that Thine eyes may be open toward this house night and day, even toward the place of which Thou hast said, My Name shall be there: that Thou mayest hearken unto the prayer which Thy servant shall make toward this place.” Here is the secret of a Jew’s interest in the Temple: Jehovah had set His Name there. And though Solomon’s Temple might fall, yet in the house which rose again upon its foundations, to the Jew, Jehovah’s Name was still there. So in drought, in famine, in battle, in defeat, in captivity, the Jew bethought himself of the Temple, and his eyes turned toward the city which God had chosen, and to the house which was built for His Name. Thus Daniel in the land of his captivity opened his window toward Jerusalem, and Jonah in the belly of the great fish said, “I will look again toward Thy holy Temple.” So we read in the Gospels of the pious resorting to the Temple, and in the Acts, of Peter and John going up thither at the hour of prayer.
But devout and prayerful as to a casual observer the people would appear to be,we find that formalism and hypocrisy to a large extent prevailed. How sharply the Lord spoke of those hypocrites who loved to pray standing in the synagogues and corners of the streets that they might be seen of men! “Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.”And not only do the Gospels preserve this condemnation of empty prayer, but when we turn to Jewish teaching, it unwittingly records its own condemnation. The Rabbis make prayer a meritorious act: “Moses was accepted by the Lord,” say they, “not for his works, but for his prayers.” One Rabbi, indeed, well declared that to convert prayer into a regular recurring duty, is not devout supplication. True words are these. But when we meet with the current Rabbinic saying, “Prolix prayer prolongeth life,” we discover one of the causes of the “long prayers” condemned by the Lord. Again, “Since every berechah (thanksgiving) contained praise of the Divine Name, it was considered by the Jews an act of piety, and therefore entailing merit, to repeat as many as possible, till it was declared an evidence of special righteousness to say a hundred such berachoth (thanksgivings) in the course of a day.”
It is believed that in the time of the Lord some amount of freedom was allowed in prayer, but already burdensome rules (which afterward were made more stringent) were imposed as to posture, etc. It was laid down, either at that time or a little later, that the back must be bent till every bone was visible; that the voice must not be too loud, nor too low; neither, if during prayer even a serpent should twine itself round the heel of the suppliant, must it be shaken off — a restriction removed in the case of a scorpion, whose bite was more dangerous. In these and other ways all true prayer was in danger of being crushed out of the heart, under the “grievous burdens” imposed by the spiritual guides of the people.
But if prayer itself was so meritorious, the place in which it was offered was of no small importance. For, though Rabbi Jochanan (a contemporary of the Apostle Paul) excellently says, that he who prays in his house fortifies it as with a wall of iron, he adds that this holds good only where a Jew is alone — where no community exists. There, the synagogue must be resorted to. Others went further, and held that prayer was valid only when offered in the synagogue. How different the spirit of Christianity as expressed by St. Paul: “I will that men pray everywhere.”So other causes than the fact that Jehovah’s Name was set in the Temple, would induce suppliants to resort thither.
Thus the Lord brought a familiar sight to the minds of His hearers when He spokes of the two men, who “went up into the Temple to pray; the one a Pharisee and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are [literally, the rest of men], extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess [rather, acquire]:’” That is all; it is not a long prayer, but we are amazed at its terms. There is no word of petition in it! Can it be that the Lord has chosen an extreme case, to make Pharisaism repulsive? Not so, for prayers of celebrated Rabbis are preserved which astonishingly resemble this self-complaisant utterance. “I thank Thee, O Lord my God,” prays one, “that Thou hast put my part with those who sit in the academy, and not with those who sit at corners [money changers, &c.]. For I rise early, and they rise early: I rise early to the words of the law [Thorah], and they to vain things. I labor and they labor: I labor and receive a reward; they labor and receive no reward. I run and they run: I run to the life of the world to come, and they to the pit of destruction.” Strikingly similar is the prayer of Rabbi Nechunjah: “I thank Thee, O Lord my God, and God of my fathers, that Thou hast cast my lot among those who frequent academies and synagogues, and not among those who attend theaters and games. Both I and they work and watch: I work for the inheritance of heaven, and they for their perdition, as it is written: ‘For Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt Thou suffer Thine Holy One to see corruption!’” One more example of Rabbinic righteousness will suffice. R. Simon ben Jochai (“whose worthiness was so great that through his lifetime no rainbow was needed to insure immunity from a flood”) said: “I have seen the children of the world to come, and they are few. If there are three, I and my son are of the number; if there are two, I and my son are they; if only one, I am he!”
What light such a spirit throws upon those passages of Scripture which speak of the self-righteousness of the Jews — of those who, ignorant of God’s righteousness, went about to establish their own! So with the Pharisee of our parable; he has no petition to ask; but dividing all mankind into two classes, he sets himself in the one, and “the rest of men” in the other. The latter he paints in the blackest hues, as a background to the brighter tints of his own virtues. The most abominable sins are imputed to others. As for himself, he is not only free from them, but he can point to a higher obedience than the much reverenced Thorah demanded. That enjoined a fast once a year only — on the day of atonement; he fasted twice a week. Again, the law called upon the people to give a tithe of the land, whether of seed or of fruit; but this Pharisee paid tithes of all that came into his possession. So he closed his prayer; and, satisfied with himself and his righteousness, he goes his way. Alas! when the testing time came, what would he and such as he find their righteousness to be worth? Absolutely nothing; in the light of God’s presence it would appear only as filthy rags.
Very different was the poor publican who came up to the Temple. He indeed stood afar off but as an old writer truly nuts it―
“One nearer to God’s altar trod
The other to the altar’s God.”
The Pharisee might advance farther into the Temple, but the publican, though afar off, approaches nearer to God. Standing with downcast eyes, smiting upon his breast, he really prays, and his prayer has furnished till this day words for the contrite soul “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.” He, like the Pharisee, marks himself out from other men, but to condemn himself, and in his prayer for “mercy” lies an acknowledgment of his guilt and the need of propitiation. His few words come from a deep source — not from the lips only, but from a heart such as God delights to make His dwelling — the contrite and lowly. And both Pharisee and publican depart from the place of prayer possessing what each esteems above all other things — the one his own righteousness, the other God’s mercy. In the eternal issues — what a contrast! The one to receive abasement and shame for his self-righteous pride; the other to be exalted, though his exaltation is indeed reached by way of the Valley of Humiliation. For, “I tell you,” is the Lord’s emphatic comment, “this man went down to his house justified rather than the other. For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; but he that abaseth himself shall be exalted.”
Oh, let us not miss the lesson which in this parable is written large for us! Let us not imagine that its application extends to a little sect of the Jewish people and ends there. It reaches down to us. For the words were spoken to “certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others.” It may be each of our readers would refuse to admit such full-blown Pharisaism as is described by the Lord; but is our trust in self or in God? The blessing which the publican received can never exist with Pharisaic pride, and to lose that blessing is to lose all. May we, like the publican, prove the truth of God’s word, that a broken and a contrite heart He will not despise. Jr.