The Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican — The Sequel
A private conversation between the Lord and the Pharisee.
Icon of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector from Luke 18:10–14 (Source).
The Sunday of the Pharisee and the Publican is an observance commemorated on the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (around late October) in the Latin Church’s liturgical calendar. However, in the Byzantine Catholic parishes, the commemoration of the parable takes place on the 1st Sunday (around February) of the three-week preparatory period preceding Lent. This is followed by the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, the Sunday of the Last Judgment, and Forgiveness Sunday.
Having attended said Sunday at a UGCC Cathedral at one point, a rudimentary idea of a sequel to the parable formed in my head – an imaginary conversation the Pharisee has with the LORD following his visit to the temple, rooted in the themes of mercy that pervade the Gospel.
I put the idea aside for some time, but I recently returned to developing the dialogue after consulting with a close friend to improve characterisation, especially that of the tax collector. That said, here is the sequel to the Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican.
(The Publican leaves the temple with a skip in his step and a smile on his face, no longer fazed by the disapproving stares of his fellow Jews. The Pharisee follows behind, but feels hollow and confused at the Publican’s newfound joy. Hence, he returns home to his quarters, alone, and prays earnestly from his heart.)
Pharisee: Why, Lord? Why did you bless that treacherous tax collector? Have I not shown you greater devotion than the likes of him? I have fasted twice a week and tithe to the temple. I should be the one to be blessed.
God: Was it necessary? Deliberately parading yourself out in the open for others to see you while you were singing your praises? Besides, you and I both know who you are truly exalting.
Pharisee: But Lord, I’m not a traitor to my own people, making myself comfortable at their expense. I don’t cheat people out of their money! That tax collector’s licentiousness and greed have proven him unworthy to enter your presence!
God: And how do you know he’s still who you believe he is? Has it not occurred to you that there might be more to his story? Especially his reasons for becoming a tax collector?
Pharisee: What other reason except being maliciously self-absorbed and avaricious?
God: Well, as a child, he grew up with parents and relatives who were nominal in their faith and materialistic. So it was ingrained into him that to be wealthy is to be perpetually content and loved by all.
Hence, when the Romans opened up tax collector job opportunities, he offered his services to make a living, to thrive in the way he knew how.
Pharisee: Aren’t you making excuses for him?
God: No. That is an explanation, which is not the same as an excuse. I know what he’s done and the rationale he used as a justification, which I cannot and have never endorsed.
Pharisee: Shouldn’t he be punished then? For all the people he’s swindled and made impoverished? Such people like him have no place in the temple.
God: Again, do not be too eager to deal out judgment. For there is much that you do not know.
The very reason why he showed up at the temple, despite having to endure insults and cold stares by others, was that he had realized his exorbitant lifestyle had magnified his problems, contrary to his expectations.
His pursuit of wealth has made him lonely. Currently, he’s alienated from his wife and children because of the nature of his job. The only company he has is his colleagues, with whom he can’t truly count on, as they enjoy him for his prestige, instead of him as a person.
Hence his visit to the temple. To confess his sins. To acknowledge that he was wrong in his worldview, that he’s a man who has everything, and nothing. If you could hear his prayer, he was also asking for help and guidance in changing his ways, in unlearning his ingrained values and relearning charity, that he may reconcile with his family.
Right now, I see him connecting with another tax collector, short in stature, who likewise had his moment of repentance and endeavours to repay that which he stole fourfold and donate half his possessions to the poor.
You may remain sceptical, all right. Nevertheless, this is a legitimate possibility that you shouldn’t rule out. Treat it as such.
Pharisee: Fair enough, I believe you, Lord. Nonetheless, don’t my devotions mean anything to you?
God: Well-intentioned as your aforementioned devotions are, what I look for is the heart. What comes out of the heart cuts both ways, recontextualizing external acts for good or evil as a whole.
It’s easy to deem yourself as righteous based on the quantity of good works you do and/or the bad works you don’t do. Had you lived in similar circumstances to the tax collector, how certain are you that you would not live similarly?
It’s in your best interest to consider that the position you are in, as a respected scholar of the Scriptures and the Law, was meant for you to help others to have their faith kindled and nourished, not to write them off because they lost their way.
Pharisee: You are right, Lord. It was through your blessings that I grew up fervent in faith, and my family was able to provide me with a good religious education.
God: Indeed. And next time you visit me at the temple, let your prayers and devotions this time be rooted in thanksgiving, not scorekeeping.
You are always welcome in my presence. I will be waiting.
“Let us flee the proud speaking of the Pharisee and learn the humility of the Publican, and with groaning let us cry unto the Savior: Be merciful to us, for Thou alone art ready to forgive. Amen.”
— Kontakion (Tone Four), The Sunday of the Publican and the Pharisee (Divine Liturgy as celebrated by Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic Christians)
