“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you
hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are
full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of
the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean” (Matt. 23:25-26).
Jesus lambasts the
Pharisees seven times in Matthew 23 for being “hypocrites.” The word hypocrite comes
from the Greek hypokritēs, meaning a “stage actor; pretender,
dissembler” (Source: Online
Etymology Dictionary).
Source: Dreamstime.com |
Apparently in Greek theater, an actor played several roles in
each drama. Each role had a different mask, and as the actor changed roles,
he/she changed masks to portray the new personality. So, a hypocrite is someone
who changes masks to appear to be something different from what they really are.
Jesus calls the Pharisees hypocrites because they display the
mask of holiness and piety on the “outside of the cup and dish,” but their inner
lives are “full of greed and self-indulgence.” In order to be “pure in heart”
(Matt. 5: 8), they are admonished to “first clean the inside of the cup and
dish.”
Throughout their writings, Thomas Merton and Richard Rohr
examine the concept of the “true self” and the “false self.” In simplistic terms,
the true self is the stamp of God’s image on our souls along with all the
accumulated shadows, and the false self is the different masks we put on to present
to the world an image of ourselves that we think is more acceptable, more
desirable or more lovable.
We all need masks to deal with reality. Different roles that
we play in life like Greek actors on the stage, require different masks. The
problem arises when we come to believe more in our masks than in our true
selves. When this happens, we develop a false self.
This is my "spiritual director" mask. Notice the Celtic cross around my neck. |
For example, I taught at the university level for over 30
years. Many students addressed me as “Professor Clymer.” At first, I was quite
pleased with this appellation. I could strut around like a peacock with the
illusion that I was somehow more important or more intelligent than other
people.
I call it an illusion, because my mask belied my humble
background, my longings for acceptance and my need for God. I had come to
believe more in my role (mask) as a professor than a human being made in the
image of God. Many years later, my illusion was ripped from me through a midlife
crisis and intense inner work.
I could name many other delusional masks that I have worn,
some more lightly than others. Parker Palmer, in his book On the Brink of
Everything, describes well my inner work and its usefulness for embracing
our true selves: “Contemplation is any way one has of penetrating illusion
and touching reality” (p. 57).
The Pharisees presented an illusion of piety. They could not
see the reality of their own shadow selves. They were supposed to be reflecting
God’s plan for the world and his people. Instead they were “full of hypocrisy
and wickedness” (Matt. 23: 28b). That is why Jesus criticized them so severely.
He was trying to “penetrate their illusions” and get them to be in touch with
their “reality.”
Palmer claims that any devastating loss can serve as a catalyst
to make one touch reality and destroy illusions. He calls himself a “contemplative
by catastrophe.” I have had catastrophes that have shattered many of my
illusions, but I have also become much more self-aware through spiritual
disciplines.
What role do you play that is the most tempting with which to
identify and create a false self? What has served you the best in shattering
your illusions of self-importance? Catastrophe or contemplation, or both?