A Tale of Two Prayers

Is all prayer good? Is there such a thing as bad prayer? If so, what is it that makes a prayer either good or bad? Is it the words that are used? Or is the difference between good and bad prayer rooted in some other criteria?

Prayer is one of the most tangible expressions of faith. It manifests our desire to personally interact with God. Through prayer, we act on our belief that we live all our lives in God's presence - a God that is not distant, aloof, or remote, but rather, actively concerned with our lives.  

Ultimately, we pray because we believe that God wants us to pray. God wants us to hear from us. Like a good parent, God is not concerned with the formality of prayer - demanding eloquent speech, flowery phrases, or theologically precise terminology before God will listen. No, God simply wants to hear from God's children.

The fact that God wants us to pray does not mean that all prayer is good. Prayer can be a means of authentic engagement with God resulting in inner spiritual transformation that leads to love for others. But all good things - including religion and religious language - are prone to distortion and abuse. We may hide a proud heart behind religious language. Prayer can be a means through which our heart is enlarged to love God and love others. Prayer (and other spiritual practices) can also fuel intolerance, hatred, and pride. The possibility of both good and bad prayer is nowhere more evident than in Jesus' "Tale of Two Prayers."

A Tale of Two Prayers

Jesus often taught using parables - simple stories that contain spiritual truths. Stories possess the powerful ability to impact us in a way that straightforward teaching does not. Stories have a subversive power to work their way into our lives, disarming our defenses, and leaving us deeply touched. It is for this reason that the primary content of the sacred scriptures is narrative. We learn best through stories.

In Jesus' story, two prayers are offered by two people. One prayer is commended, the other prayer is condemned. Put simply: One prayer is good, the other is bad. The two prayers reveal "two kinds of heart, whose contrast is not only seen in the way they make their request, but also in the way they approach God."[1]

Like episodes of The Twilight Zone, Jesus stories always contain a strange twist. The twist in this story is that the prayer of the "righteous" one is unrighteous while the prayer of the "unrighteous" one is righteous. Jesus' hearers expect the hero of his story to be the "righteous" Pharisee and the villain to be the "unrighteous" tax-collector. Pharisees were known for their piety. They were the "separated ones" who hoped to hasten the coming of Messiah through their meticulous observance of God's law. They pursued lives of pious devotion by practicing the commands of torah that specifically applied to the levitical priesthood. Their motto was: If it is good for the priests, it is good for the people. Through this extreme devotion they sought to live "righteous" lives. Tax-collectors, on the other hand, were Jews who compromised with the Roman powers that occupied Jerusalem. They were viewed as leeches on society and traitors to their country - unrighteous men with no morals or decency.

Praying at the Temple

"Two men went up to the temple to pray" (Luke 18:10a). The two prayers take place during public worship at the Temple. There were two daily services in the Temple area. Both were daily atonement offerings - offerings that reminded people of their sin and of God's willingness to graciously forgive sin. The first offering took place at dawn. The second took place at three o'clock in the afternoon. Bailey describes the scene:

Each service began outside the sanctuary at the great high altar with the sacrifice for the sins of Israel of a lamb whose blood was sprinkled on the altar, following a precise ritual. In the middle of the prayers there would be the sound of silver trumpets, the clanging of cymbals and the reading of a psalm. The officiating priest would then enter the outer part of the sanctuary where he would offer incense and trim the lamps. At that point, when the officiating priest disappeared into the building, those worshipers in attendance could offer their private prayers to God.[2]

A biblical example of this is found in Luke 1 when Zechariah offers incense during his service as priest. While he does so, people are outside praying (Luke 1:10). Unlike our prayers, all the people would offer their prayers out loud and all at once.

During this time of prayer, the Pharisee was "standing alone by himself" (Luke 18:11a). He stands apart from others while attending Temple service, demonstrating his sense of superiority over others. "He stands by himself because he is a Pharisee who does not wash to be defiled by 'the great unwashed,' whom he considers unclean. If he touches the clothing of someone who is ceremonially unclean, he becomes defiled. He must, therefore, stand apart."[3] The Pharisee also stands alone in order to draw attention to himself and provide a platform from which other "lesser" people - thieves, rogues, and adulterers - may hear of his grand spiritual accomplishments. As he enumerates his positive virtues - in themselves quite admirable (fasting, giving up a tenth of one's income) - one of the representatives of this sinful mass of humankind is the tax collector.

Because he stands by himself (not praying to himself) he may well be praying aloud, as was common Jewish custom. Such a voiced prayer would provide a golden opportunity to offer some unsolicited ethical advice to the "unrighteous" around him who might not have another opportunity to observe a man of his stratospheric piety! Most of us in our spiritual journeys have, at some time or other, listened to a sermon hidden in a prayer.[4]

Although the Pharisee views himself as a faithful follower of the Jewish tradition, his prayer is unlike traditional Jewish prayers: "Prayer, according to the piety of first-century Judaism, was of three types: confession of sin, thanks for bounty received, petitions for oneself and for others."[5]

The Pharisee's prayer does not fall into any of these categories. He is neither confessing his sins nor thanking God for God's gifts, and he does not make any requests for help. His public remarks are an attack on others clothed in self-advertisement. He tells God that he despises extortioners, the unjust, adulterers and tax collectors. Rather than comparing himself to God's expectations of him, he compares himself to others.[6]

The Pharisee demonstrates extreme concern for righteousness - a concern that exceeds that of "common" people. He "fasts twice a week and gives a tenth of all his income" (Luke 18:12). The scriptures only require fasting one day a year, on the annual Day of Atonement. But the Pharisees fasted two days before and after each of the three major feasts as well as two days every week. His extreme concern for righteousness is also demonstrated in his giving. God's people in the Old Testament were commanded to tithe their grain, oil, and wine, but this Pharisee tithes everything that he possesses.

Are the items in the Pharisee's list of accomplishments good or bad? Clearly, there is nothing wrong with his practices. The Pharisee is completely committed to his faith. He is devout, moral, and upright. He is right to refrain from stealing, irreligion, and adultery.

The problem is not with his practices but with his attitude. The Pharisee is intoxicated with the depth of his spiritual understanding and practice. He is disciplined and dependable, but his high standards of righteousness have not led to a greater love of others, but instead, they contribute to his looking down upon others with contempt.

His self-righteousness has distorted his view of himself, others, and God. Five times in two verses the focus is on himself: "I... I... I... I... my..." He, not God, is the major subject of his prayer. "But, whereas in prayer the focus should be above all upon God, this man's concentration is upon himself."[7] He assumes that those listening to his prayer will be just as impressed by his high standards of righteousness as he is. One gets the impression from listening to the Pharisee that God should feel honored to have him on the team.

The Publican's Prayer

In contrast to the Pharisee who "stands by himself" in order to keep a distance from others and to make sure others hear of his high standards, the publican "stands far off" (Luke 18:13). He is so distraught over his sins that he beats his chest in remorse. His one request is, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

It is interesting to note that this text does not use the common Greek word for "mercy," which is eleeo. Instead, the verse uses the word hilaskomai, which means "to make an atonement." This is meaningful in light of the context of the Publican's prayer - the temple offering of the atonement sacrifice. The tax collector yearns for the atoning sacrifice to be offered on his behalf. Unable to save himself, he deeply recognizes his need for God's saving grace.

The publican's prayer is simple. There is no self-congratulation, no summary of good deeds, no putting down of others. He recognizes one thing - his need for God's mercy. And one sign that God's mercy is abundantly present for sinners is the atonement offering. Through the atonement sacrifice, God welcomes and exalts sinners - something that the Pharisee fails to do.

Comparing the Prayers

The force of Jesus' story is found in comparing the two prayers. Jesus commends the Publican's prayer and condemns the Pharisee's prayer. "The tax collector yearns to accept the gift of God's justification, while the Pharisee feels he has already earned it."[8] As Ibn al-Tayyib notes, "the Pharisee talks as if there were no righteous person on earth as noble as he, while the tax collector prays as if there were no sinner on earth as evil as he."[9]

Jesus did not always explain the meaning of his parables. He usually let the story do the work. But for this parable, Jesus clearly lays out the spiritual point before and after the story: "He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt... for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted" (Luke 18:9, 14).

The Pharisee represents those whose righteous acts lead to self-righteousness and contempt for others. Impressed with his own spirituality, he exalts himself and despises others.

The prophet Micah wrote, "He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" (Micah 6:8). The Pharisee did justice, but failed to love kindness, thus ultimately falling short of the God's most important requirement, "to walk humbly with your God." He failed to show God's humility - a humility evidenced by God's willingness to welcome sinners by grace through the daily atonement offerings.

The Danger of Spiritual Pride

The "Tale of Two Prayers" exposes the danger of spiritual pride. This is a unique sin that religious people are susceptible to. The greatest sin according to the Christian tradition is not sexual immorality, adultery, murder or theft (as bad as these sins are). The greatest is the sin of spiritual pride. The reason: Spiritual pride mimics righteousness but its fruit is evil - hatred, intolerance, and division. Spiritual pride is satisfaction in our spiritual accomplishments which leads us to look down on others and hold them in contempt. On the contrary, godly righteousness is expressed through humble, self-giving love. Authentic Christian spirituality is not a competition to see who does the most, but rather, should lead to compassion and loving concern for others.

We must be ever mindful of the danger of spiritual pride, especially in the midst of our greatest spiritual advances. Father Gerry Pierse writes, "There is the instinctive need in me to want to be able to give an impressive account of myself as he did, and to be able to feel that I am better than others." In other words, we are all tempted to say, "I thank you God that I am not like (fill in the blank)."

In his book Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis offers some helpful reflections on the subtle dangers of pride and the unique nature of humility. He writes,

Pride is essentially competitive... Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer; or cleverer; or better-looking than others... It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest... If I am a proud man, then, as long as there is one man in the whole world more powerful, or richer, or cleverer than I, he is my rival and my enemy.

In light of these observations, Lewis warns, "Whenever we find that our religious life is making us feel that we are good - above all, that we are better than someone else - I think we may be sure that we are being acted on, not by God, but by the devil."

What, then, is humility? It certainly is not expressed by learning to pray, "I thank you God that I'm not like that Pharisee!" Likewise, it is not expressed by whining, "I'm a poor, rotten sinner who never does anything right!" Neither of these expressions is an indication of godly humility. They still contain far too much self. They reflect an ironic pride in one's humility. C. S. Lewis describes what a truly humble person will look like:

Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call "humble" nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.

Thomas Merton offers similar sentiments in New Seeds of Contemplation:

How can you be humble if you are always paying attention to yourself? ... If you were truly humble you would not bother about yourself at all. Why should you? ... A humble man can do great things with an uncommon perfection because he is no longer concerned about incidentals, like his own interests and his own reputation, and therefore he no longer needs to waste his efforts defending them.

In light of Jesus' story, we must ask ourselves, What beliefs and practices do we hold that cause us to look down upon those who believe and practice otherwise? In other words, what causes us to regard others with contempt or consider ourselves better than others? We need to learn to pray as Jerry Goebel suggests: "Lord, help me discover the self-deceived and self-persuaded Pharisee in myself and liberate me - from my arrogance."

Comparison Spirituality

One possible remedy to spiritual pride is to reject comparing ourselves to others, but instead, learn to evaluate ourselves in regard to God's righteous expectations. The righteousness God desires cannot be achieved by means of our own efforts. God desire that we love God with all our heart, soul, strength and mind and that we love our neighbor as ourselves. God desires a superlative degree of total commitment, longing for us to love whole-heartedly, with our whole self, to the fullest capacity.

Our standard falls far too short if we hope to impress God with statements like "I thank you that I'm not a thief, rogue, or a scoundrel." One can almost hear God say, "So you're not a thief, rogue, or scoundrel. Well then, what are you? Who are you like? Are you like my Son, Jesus?"

Love is not about minimum requirements. There are times when I have failed to be the loving husband I should be and my wife gets frustrated and confronts me. I have sometimes sought to counter her complaints by saying, "Well, at least I'm home every night. I'm not out in the bars getting drunk. I don't beat you. And I don't have expensive hobbies." But love is not about minimum requirements. So I don't do some dastardly deeds. That does not make me a good husband.

Likewise, so we refrain from the big sins and work hard at obedience in a few areas. This does not mean we have mastered righteousness or that we are God's gift to the world. If it results in self-righteousness or contempt to others, then all our efforts are in vain. Our prayers - and all our other spiritual practices - are corrupt. They are bad and do not achieve their intended effect.

So you're not a thief, adulterer, or atheist. Good! But who are you. Are you becoming more like Christ, sharing the heart of God? Certainly, when we consider the gap between our lives and Christ's life we should recognize that there is plenty of room for humility.

So you practice a few spiritual disciplines. Good! But how do you treat others? Religious practices should open our hearts to greater love of God and others, not self-righteousness and contempt of others.

It is unwise to compare ourselves to others. When Paul was wrestling with the super-apostles that threatened his ministry by boasting of their superiority, he wrote this, "For we are not bold to class or compare ourselves with some of those who commend themselves; but when they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are without understanding" (2 Corinthians 10:12).

We should not leave this "Tale of Two Prayers" by learning to pray, "I thank you God I am not like the Pharisee." If we do, we are still too caught up in comparison spirituality.

God desires a superlative degree of total commitment, longing for us to love whole-heartedly, with our whole self, to the fullest capacity. We need a miracle of grace to accomplish this. Even more, we need generous amounts of mercy along the way. The provision of atonement sacrifices both reminded God's people of their sin and of God's willingness to graciously forgive sin. Christ's offering on the cross proves once and for all that God loves and accepts sinners.

There is such a thing as "bad" prayer. We can hide a proud heart behind religious language. But we can nurture a humble heart through the same language. The issue, as always, is not in the words used, but in the attitude toward which we approach God. And we know that God desires nothing more than our growth in grace, love, compassion, and humility. Certainly, we must be concerned to perform deeds of justice, but we must show equal concern to love mercy and walk humbly with God. The Pharisee excelled in the former and failed in the latter. If we are to walk in the way of Christ, we must demonstrate equal concern for all three.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2009