Watch Out for Those
He wore a robe that flowed behind him. His tassels were neat, and his scripture box was in place. His strides were confident. He was greeted with the nodded heads of respect. Toward some he returned their respectful actions, on others he cast a scowl, a judgement.
"Watch out for these." A man dressed in tattered garments said to those gathered round.
The words caught the ear of the well-dressed man. He approached the crowd as the man who spoke a warning pointed in his direction.
"These teachers of the law," the man at the center of the crowd continued.
"Of whom do you speak, Rabbi?" The well-dressed man spoke his final word with contempt. He did not consider the man before him to be anything but a vagabond preacher with no real knowledge of the scriptures.
"Answer me this." The man in tattered clothes stood up from the crowd and moved toward the ordained teacher of the law. "Do you not find pleasure in the respect given to you?"
"Why would I not?"
"It is not out of some kindness that you are due. They treat you graciously because of their fear. If one of them, a woman, had no husband for support, and could not pay a mere coin owed against her shelter, would you not take her house, leaving the woman and her children to beg in the street?"
"If I am owed, it is my duty under the law to collect."
"The law of the Father comes from the heart. He would not cast... even you... into the streets. But you seek honor from high places and look above the heads of those who do not meet your standards. You recite meaningless words that bore those who listen. Your scripture box and tassels bring you no closer to the truth, than any other who wears nothing but rags."
The well-dressed man looked out over the crowd. He studied their faces. They were filthy. They spread disease. They were the uncleansed, despised by God. After surveying the throng, his eyes focused again on the man before him. A drifter. One who slept on the desert floor with a stone beneath his head. His clothing showed little sign of ever having been changed. The crowd the pauper gathered would turn their eyes, because they were undeserving.
He turned away. A Pharisee then, a Pharisee now. He began to recite lengthy phrases that he believed would clean him of all the filth he had drawn near.
The man, wearing tattered garments, walked back into the midst of the those with ears attuned to his words. He sat with his back to a stone pillar. He watched the well-dressed man slip back among those who showed false respect. He looked out over the gathering before him, those longing for his voice. He saw their smiles, on earth stained faces. He saw calloused hands that had loving performed their labor. He saw simplicity in those who needed little and expected less. He loved them with no greater intensity than was his love for the well-dressed man. The only difference was that the uncleansed crowd loved him in return.
Slowly he continued with the words he had been speaking, "Watch out for those."
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