October 24, 2025

The Measure of True Prayer

The Measure of True Prayer

Today, the Word of God invites us to enter into the mystery of true prayer — the kind of prayer that touches the very heart of God. Last Sunday, Jesus urged us to “pray always and never lose heart.” This Sunday, He teaches us how to pray rightly. The question before us is not simply Do I pray? but How do I pray? Do I approach God like the Pharisee, confident in my own goodness and merits, or like the tax collector, aware of my need for mercy?

In today’s  Gospel,  Jesus presents two men who go up to the temple to pray. Both are religious men, both believe in God, but only one truly encounters Him. The Pharisee stands confidently, reciting his virtues before the Lord: he fasts, he tithes, he is not like other men. But notice what Jesus says — he “prayed with himself.” His words, though directed to God, were really about himself. His prayer was a mirror, not a window. It reflected his pride instead of opening him to grace. The tax collector, by contrast, stands at a distance. He cannot even raise his eyes to heaven. With one hand beating his chest, he whispers the simplest and most sincere prayer in all of Scripture: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” And Jesus declares that it was this man who went home justified.

This parable holds up a mirror to our own hearts. We may come to church each Sunday, we may pray the rosary, we may do good works — and all these are good. But if we do them to prove our righteousness rather than to express our love for God, our prayer risks becoming like that of the Pharisee. The Lord does not need our boasting; He desires our honesty. What matters is not how impressive our prayer sounds, but how real it is. When we come before God with empty hands and a contrite heart, we allow Him to fill us with His grace. The most beautiful prayer we can ever offer is not “I thank you that I am not like others,” but “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Humility, then, is the soul of prayer.

And so, dear friends, as we come to this Eucharist, let us allow the words of the tax collector to become our own: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Let this be the rhythm of our hearts — in prayer, in work, in joy, and in pain. For the prayer that pleases God most is not polished or perfect, but honest. It is the prayer of a heart that knows its weakness and trusts completely in divine mercy.