“The Lord does not ignore the orphan’s supplication, nor the widow’s as she pours out her story. The one, who with her/his whole heart serves God, will be accepted, her/his petitions will carry to the clouds. The humble man’s prayer pierces the clouds, until it arrives he is inconsolable, nor will he desist until the Most High takes notice of him, acquits the virtuous and delivers judgement. And the Lord will be neither slow nor dilatory on their behalf.” Sirach 35: 12-14,16-19.
“The tax collector (publican) stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed: ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’” Luke 18: 9-14
*Comparisons are odious” is an aphorism which we have heard at least occasionally and wondered about its origin and why it might have been quoted to us. Perhaps the intention of the person who quoted it to us was to remind us that life is not a competition and that there is little to be gained from comparing ourselves with people who share tertiary education classes with us or with the neighbours who live in the same street or with the other members who belong to our parish or share an office with us. After all, we all have individual gifts and admirable qualities, and there is little to be gained from striving and planning to make ourselves superior to those around and among us. “Compare and Contrast” exercises are best left to examination rooms.
It seems as though the aphorism “Comparisons are odious.” Is attributed to the English monk and poet, John Lydgate, who, in 1440, published a poem entitled Debate Between the Horse, the Goose and the Sheep. The poem recorded their debate about which of them had made the most valuable contribution to humankind in the spheres of war, trade and religion during Mediaeval times. The Lion and the Eagle were appointed to be the judges of the debate. Lydgate, concluding that their comparing their contributions was ultimately frivolous and odious, proceeded to note that humankind had proved itself even more stupid by engaging in war in the first place and in presuming to regard themselves as superior to the animals whom they had used in their warring endeavours.
Nearly 600 years later, we are witnessing national leaders comparing themselves with one another, boasting how they are superior to their counterparts in other nations, more intelligent and more strategically adept. Meanwhile, the world they have created is in tatters and the lives of their citizens and of the enemies they have created are destroyed.
The readings of the recent few Sundays have contained stories which Jesus shared with his disciples in instructing them about how they might go about approaching prayer. They have been about persistently putting our faith and trust in a God who does not cease to love us, and being grateful to a God who loves us endlessly through all the trials and circumstances of our lives. But true disciples have to realise that prayer is essentially not about trying to change the mind of God, and, rather, recognising that God is present to us in whatever comes our way. Regrettably, we often fail to recognise that. First Testament readings have taught about prayer through characters like Moses who relied on help from Aaron and Hur, through Naaman who was convinced by his aide that God could be present in something as ordinary as the muddy Jordan. And only last week, we heard Jesus tell of a powerless widow who could wear down a corrupt judge. He presented her as an inspirational model of perseverance. In this Sunday’s gospel-reading, Jesus, almost half a millennium ahead of John Lydgate, showed that comparisons were odious and that prayer was not about comparing one’s virtues with those of people judged to be less worthy, as a way of drawing God’s attention.
Jesus’ story of the Pharisee and the tax-collector praying in the Temple underlined that God is not impressed by anyone who wants to compare himself/herself using virtuous-living criteria of their own making.
The accounts we have heard in the gospel-readings of recent Sundays of Jesus teaching his disciples about prayer describe Jesus’ painstaking efforts to demonstrate that discipleship – participating in continuing the mission entrusted to him by his Father – has to be founded on and nourished by persistent prayer, by a loving relationship with the God who is the source of all that is good in us and in our world.
The description we are given of the Pharisee’s prayer in today’s gospel-reading gives us cause to stop and look at how we can sometimes use our own religious practices and cultivated belief-systems to justify our pet theories of how our world should look and of how we might best live and act. Eventually we will come to learn that all we are and have are gifts from God, freely given, and that we do not earn God’s approval through what we say or do and how we live and act. Discipleship, too, is gift and privilege, as are faith and trust in God and prayer that nurtures that relationship.
The prayer of the Pharisee in today’s gospel-reading is an expression of his own self-praise for all he has done to earn God’s approval. In contrast, the tax-collector’s prayer is humble recognition of his dependence on God, even for forgiveness. It echoes Mary’s Magnificat prayer which we hear from Luke in the very first chapter in his Gospel (Luke 1:46-55).
Today’s gospel-reading leaves us in no doubt about the fact that we are not the authors of our own salvation. A real trap for devout, religious people the world over is to delude themselves into believing that they make themselves pleasing to God by their good deeds. Is that not sometimes how we think? It is only by honestly acknowledging our inadequacies and failings, without excuse, that we will be in right relationship with our God of mercy and compassion.