Elie Wiesel repeats a story from the Hasidic tradition. When the great Rabbi Baal Shem-Tov saw misfortune threatening the Jews it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a sacred fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and the misfortune averted. Later, when his disciple had occasion, for the same reason, to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: “Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the sacred fire, but I am still able to say the special prayer,” and again the miracle would be accomplished and misfortune averted. Still later, Rabbi Moshe, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say: “I do not know how to light the sacred fire, I do not know the special prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient.” It was sufficient and the miracle was accomplished and disaster averted. Then it fell to Rabbi Israel to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: “I am unable to light the sacred fire and I do not know the special prayer; I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is to tell the story, and this must be sufficient.” And it was sufficient. God made man because God loves stories.
Certainly Jesus loved stories. He told them over and over again as his primary way of teaching. Stories are an effective teaching tool because they require the listener to figure out what they mean. Jesus trusts us enough to be able to do that. We aren’t required to echo back the catechism answer that someone handed to us like an MRE – a meal ready to eat. Instead we are given the raw ingredients and told to develop our own recipe for understanding the truth which underlies the story Jesus tells. But this does, of course, require some work on our part. We must come to understand the culture and the times in which Jesus spoke in order to get what the parable is really talking about. For two thousand years people have been repeating the parables of Jesus and we still haven’t plumbed fully their depths yet. We can take today’s parable of the Pharisee and the Publican as a test case.
It starts: Two people went up to the temple area to pray. Like the rabbis in the story by Elie Wiesel prayer sometimes benefits from finding the right place. It might be a secret spot in the forest as in the story or in a beautiful stained-glass cathedral or on the back porch at home with an easy chair and candles. Since we are bodies how we are situated in space makes a difference. Another Wiesel story: teachers complained to a father that his son was late for school all the time. He knew that the boy left on time so he decided to follow him. He found the lad was diverting from school to a glade in the woods where he would settle down to do his prayers. The father gently confronted the boy. “My son, why are you coming into the woods to pray instead of school? Isn’t God everywhere and everywhere the same.” “Certainly, Father, God is everywhere and God is everywhere the same but I’m not.” We all need a place – be it a richly decorated temple, a red wood forest or an old half-painted school hall – where we feel the presence of God.
The parable continues describing those who entered the temple to pray: “One was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector.” For Jesus’ audience the Pharisee would have meant the good guy. Pharisees were the ones you would want for your neighbors – they mowed the lawn, went to bed at a reasonable hour and cleaned up after their dog. They were widely admired for their dedication to living a holy life and setting a good example for others. Tax Collectors, on the other hand, were despised – maybe the way we think about terrorists today. They were collaborating with enemy, they had a reputation for being greedy, they became wealthy by exploiting others. In fact, people probably would have been somewhat scandalized that a tax collector – boo, hiss — would even dare to enter the temple. All of which says, that Jesus wants us to understand that, as the song goes, all are welcome in this place. Saints and sinners can enter into the sacred space because it is not their worthiness that is the price of admission but God’s gift of benevolence and unconditional love for all.
Then the two of them pray – very different prayers. The Pharisee’s prayer was one of gratitude to God for the blessings that he had received in life that equipped him to live according to the Jewish law. While it is never good to compare oneself to others, the basic thrust of his prayer was one of finding his proper place in the presence of God. The tax collector’s prayer, on the other hand, was one not of gratitude but of need. “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Two different prayers that we have all had to pray at one time or another – a prayer of gratitude for what God has already done and a prayer of petition for what we still need from God. Both prayers are part of everyone’s spiritual journey – often side by side.
So what is it about this story that causes God to love stories? Certainly it highlights the importance of having the right place to pray, of gathering the people to pray with, and of saying the right prayer for the situation where one finds oneself. It also serves as a warning about judging how others pray, about comparing your prayers with theirs. Praying where they could, as they could was sufficient for the rabbis in the story – and it will be so for us as well.
