Two Models of Prayer

Reflections on the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time: Sirach 35:12-14,16-18, 2 Timothy 4:6-8,16-18, Luke 18:9-14

Two men are at prayer, and in each of their prayers, we see a reflection of ourselves. This is not a mere historical account but a mirror, prompting us to ask: Who am I? Which prayer is mine? The liturgy highlights three key differences between the Pharisee’s and the tax collector’s prayers, offering lessons for our discipleship today.

1. The Posture - Proximity vs. Presence: 

The first difference lies in their physical and spiritual posture. The Pharisee stands front and centre, near the sanctuary, projecting closeness to God. The tax collector, however, lingers at the back, eyes downcast, unable to approach. Their positions reflect their hearts. The Pharisee’s proximity is a performance, a display of piety for others to see. The tax collector’s distance confesses his unworthiness: “I don’t deserve to be here, but I have nowhere else to go.” Jesus teaches that true closeness to God stems not from external appearances but from a humble heart.

We can fall into the trap of “Pharisee’s proximity”, attending church regularly, serving on committees, or showcasing faith on social media. These are valuable, but they risk becoming performances if they lack sincerity. God is not impressed by our spiritual resume. He looks past our perfect attendance to the condition of our hearts. True closeness is found not in being seen at the altar, but in the quiet, honest moments where we acknowledge our need for Him, no matter where we are physically. Jesus remains the only true door to the Father’s presence.

2. The Conversation - Monologue vs. Dialogue: 

The second difference is in the prayer itself. The Pharisee delivers a monologue to himself. His prayer is a list of his achievements, a recital of his own goodness. The tax collector, however, begins a dialogue with God. His prayer is short, desperate, and directed outward from his own unworthiness to God’s mercy. The Pharisee’s prayer begins and ends with “I”. The tax collector’s prayer begins with “I am a sinner”, but is ultimately about “You, O God, be merciful.” One prayer is closed, a circle around the self. The other is open, a reaching out for grace. How often do our prayers sound like a daily report to our superior or a CEO? “I did this, I avoided that, here’s what I need next.” This is a monologue.

Prayer is meant to be a relationship, a dialogue. It requires both speaking and listening. The tax collector’s prayer is so powerful because it creates space for God to respond. This is where our first reading from Sirach rings with profound truth: ”The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds; it does not rest till it reaches its goal... and the Lord will not delay.” In our busy, noisy lives, we must fight for this. It means pausing after we ask for help, sitting in silence after we read Scripture, and allowing God to speak into our situation. Are we talking to God, or are we truly communicating with Him?

3. The Expectation - Self-Sufficiency vs. Need for Mercy: 

Finally, the men’s prayers reveal opposing expectations. The Pharisee expects nothing from God, believing he has already earned everything. His “thanksgiving” is just another form of self-congratulation. The tax collector expects everything from God, bringing only his brokenness and pleading for mercy. Jesus declares the tax collector justified—made right with God. Ironically, both men receive what they seek: the Pharisee, asking for nothing, gets nothing; the tax collector, asking for grace, receives it. Our culture celebrates self-sufficiency, and this mindset can infiltrate our spirituality.

We may think our relationship with God depends on our achievements rather than His grace. Yet, the doorway to God’s favour is not our perfection but our admitted need. When we stop boasting and instead confess, “God, I can’t do this without you,” we open ourselves to His grace. Our spiritual life is not our project for God; it is God’s project in us. In the second reading, Paul, facing his own death, embodies this shift from self to God. He does not boast in his own accomplishments but states, “The Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the proclamation might be completed.” His strength, his mission, his very life was a dialogue with God’s sustaining power.

Like the tax collector, his focus was not on his own strength but on the Lord who delivered him. Let us pray like the tax collector: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” For in that prayer, we find everything.