My inner Pharisee

After Luke 15

I often talk with

my inner Pharisee.

I like to pretend

he’s not there, really,

but something happens,

always, to remind me

that he’s alive and well.

I avert my face from the beggar;

my inner Pharisee smiles.

I avoid that area of town;

he chuckles.

I ignore the poor

and sick; he laughs out loud.

My inner Pharisee is always

there, telling me he’s my friend,

when I know he’s not. But

he has a nice smile.

Photograph by Ahmed Zid via Unsplash. Used with permission.

A tale of two men

After Luke 18:9-14

Two men in the temple

to pray:

one a Pharisee,

one a tax collector;

one of the most admired class,

one of the most despised class;

one standing apart,

one just standing;

one thankful for his sinlessness,

one broken in self-recognition;

one proud in his separation

   from extortion, injustice, adultery,

one broken in self-understanding

   his heart pierced by self-awareness;

one seeking praise for his behavior,

one too ashamed to look up;

one condemned,

one justified.

Photograph by Caleb Betts via Unsplash. Used with permission.