Based on Luke 18:9-14
Today, I’m going to the temple to pray. I know there are
many other things I could be doing, but it’s good to take some time out to be
with God. As I approach, I see many people, but one man in particular seems to
be hovering around the door. A tax collector… what does HE want. I wish he
would just leave; we don’t need to have people like that around here scaring away
the true worshipers. If he’s still here by the time I’m done I’ll tell him
something.
It’s a little disappointing that there are so few people
praying today. I like for at least someone to be here to be a witness to me
praying. I don’t want people to think I don’t pray; like I’m a hypocrite or
something. O well. I guess a little practice never hurt anyone. I stand and begin
to pray.
“God, I thank you that
I am not like other men – robbers, evil-doers, and adulterers – or even like
this tax collector…”
What’s he doing? He’s entered the temple. I hope he doesn’t
expect to get anything from me today. Poor sinner. If only he knew the true
God. He would change his ways. But there’s no hope for him now. God’s wrath
will burn against him for sure. I’d sure hate to be in his sandals! Ah well, at
least he can be a witness to me praying.
“I fast twice a week
and give a tenth of all I get….”
Not many people can say that,
can they? Surely not this tax collector. What’s he doing? Beating his breast?
As if that will save him. You’ve got to do a lot more than just come to temple
every once in a while and beat on yourself. Look at him! Crying and carrying
on. Does he dare to mock God by putting on such a show?! This is a sickening
display. I have to leave. This is just too much. Miserable wretch! I march out
and give the tax collector an evil glance. He never even looks up! Humph! Well,
I hope he is not here tomorrow so I can pray in peace.
Today, I’m going to the temple to pray. I know I haven’t
lived the most holy life, but my world is crashing down right now. I have so
many burdens to bear. I just can’t do this! I can’t go on any more. My mother
would always talk about God. She told me all the stories about Egypt
As I approach the temple I’m met with nasty stares,
especially from one particular Pharisee. Have I cheated him before? No doubt,
there were so many. I can’t remember each one.
He struts into the temple; into
the temple, before God. My heart races….Mother told me that one of King David’s
men accidentally touched the sacred Ark of the Covenant and God struck him
down.* Will this be my fate? Do I dare enter the house of the Lord? Me? A
sinner? A tax collector?!
I turn to leave, but then I hear Mother’s words in my
head, “God said, ‘If they would just seek me, they would find me.*’”
I enter the temple. The Pharisee is already praying. He
turns and looks at me. Will he tell me to leave? No, he turns back around and
prays even more vigorously. I’m such a fool for coming here. These people hate
me. But, I’ve come to the temple to seek God. I bow my head before Him and
pray. No words will come. Tears fill up my eyes. All my past sins are before
me. The despair and pain from all those years of sin rush at me. The tears are
streaming down now. I beat my breast in utter humiliation of my past.
“God, have mercy on
me, a sinner!”
After what seem like hours of crying and praying the same
thing over and over, I open my eyes and look up. The Pharisee is gone. I hope
he didn’t see me cry.
I walk out of the temple with a lighter step. God gives me strength. I’ll
be back tomorrow to pray.
*2 Samuel 6:7
*Deuteronomy 4:29 and
Jeremiah 29:13
