Jesus aimed the parable at those convinced that they were right,

Those who trusted in themselves and held their neighbors light.

Two men climbed to the temple, both to stand in prayer,

One a Pharisee respected, one a publican standing there.

The Pharisee stood confidently and prayed as though alone,

Listing other people's failures like credentials of his own.

Not extortioner, unjust, adulterer, nor like that taxman's shame,

Twice a week he fasted and tithed everything he gained.

God be merciful to me,

A sinner standing far away.

No list of other people's wrongs,

No bargain left to say.

God be merciful to me,

His eyes would not look high.

He struck his breast and asked for mercy,

And that man went home justified.

The publican stood distant, would not lift his eyes to heaven,

No résumé of virtue, only need to be forgiven.

He struck his breast and spoke the prayer that had no neighbor blamed,

No comparison to polish him, no righteousness self-named.

The difference in the temple was not volume, rank, or role,

It was one man building height while one laid bare his soul.

The one who raised himself

Went down without the verdict sought.

The one who bowed himself

Received what pride could not have bought.

For everyone who lifts himself

Will find that height brought low,

And everyone who humbles self

Will see exaltation grow.

God be merciful to me,

A sinner standing far away.

No list of other people's wrongs,

No bargain left to say.

God be merciful to me,

The temple heard the cry.

The humble man went home made right,

While pride walked home beside itself.