Sermon XVII. Humility In Prayer. (For The Tenth Sunday After Pentecost.)

St. Luke xviii. 13. "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

One of the chief lessons our blessed Lord intended to teach us by the parable told in to-day's Gospel is the necessity and power of humble prayer. Let us see this, and try to draw some useful thoughts from it.

The great positive precept of prayer goes hand in hand with a man's salvation. Nothing can excuse the neglect of it, nothing is promised except through it, and therefore one cannot hope for anything without it. Yet it is not every spirit of prayer that is of God. In spite of a professed total disregard for it by some, nevertheless men have an instinctive faith in prayer. The hardiest blasphemer and scoffer at religion will often be found the first to pray when in imminent danger of death. He prays in fear. Others, with out any spirit of devotion, will be found praying at stated times, like the Pharisee, because it is a highly respectable thing to do, and keeps up their credit and good character, who apparently regard prayer as a sort of business transaction with God, the fulfilment of certain conditions of barter with Providence, by which they may expect to hold their own, and be further well rewarded. These pray in pride. Others are full of themselves and their own desires. They wish to be happy, let others be as miserable as they may. They want no sickness, no accident, no reverse of fortune, no contempt, no temptation, let God try other souls with His chastening hand as He pleases. These pray in selfishness. And yet all these are the first to complain that their prayer is not heard and instantly answered. They become petulant over delay, and utterly discouraged if their desires are not fulfilled. God's will is nothing to them. It is not "Thy will," but "My will" be done. Listen, my brethren, to the true spirit of prayer, the only kind of prayer which will infallibly be heard. It is the prayer of those who pray in humility.

The very essence of prayer consists in the acknowledgment of God's supreme dominion and government over us, and our complete dependence upon Him as the source of all blessings, spiritual and temporal. The better this is acknowledged by the soul, the more perfect must be the prayer; and, if this be the spirit which inspires only a few words of prayer, or even a silent aspiration of the heart, then more is accomplished than if hours had been consumed in the recitation of forms of prayer, where this high and reverent thought of God is wanting.

Now, this is also the fountain thought of humility: that God is all in all to us, that it is He, and not we ourselves, who has made us, and prospered us, and blessed us, and raised us up, and obtained peace and forgiveness for our erring hearts; that He is the Truth; that the true religion is His making, not what we may fashion to ourselves. These are the thoughts to bring the heart into a proper relation with God, the relation of an humble hope, trust, and reverence for Him, and in this we need lose nothing of a proper and just esteem for ourselves. It is the secret of the making of great saints and heroes in religion (all of whom were renowned for their humility), that a man is always the gainer by just so much as he gives to God.

So we see in the case of the humble publican, that God regarded him the more because he did not so much as lift his eyes to heaven. God drew the nearer to him, the farther he stood off. God comforted him, and justified him, the more he acknowledged his own wretchedness, and condemned himself. Not without reason, it is true, because he was a sinner. While he, who was not a sinner, went up in his pride and sinned in his very prayers. The humble sinner went away justified; the proud, just man went away condemned.

And hence we may conclude that, if one does not pray in humility, his prayer is of no value, and he moreover runs a great chance of committing sin by praying, and of receiving curses instead of blessings in answer.

"God resisteth the proud," says the Apostle, "but giveth grace to the humble." [Footnote 99] He is, as it were, shocked and indignant to see a man approaching him in presumption or pride. He has no grace for such an one, and then without that he will infallibly commit sin and be lost.

For what happens? He who prays without humility thinks that he has done a great thing, for which God honors him, and holds him up as an example for the admiration and imitation of others, especially for those who seldom or never go to their knees, or pray so quickly and unobtrusively that no one notices them. So he rises from his prayer puffed up with self-conceit.

Look at the Pharisee. He came to the treasure-house of God with a large sack; he extolled its capacity, and stretched it out to its utmost dimensions; he made his prayer long, wordy, and full of self. As he really did not profess himself to be in want of anything, God sent him away, with his sack empty of everything but his own windy words, which God despised and returned to him for his pains. His load was not heavy, and he could walk with head and shoulders proudly erect.

As he passed out he gave a scornful glance at the miserable publican, crouching in the porch, and thought within himself: What bad people there are in the world, to be sure! The humble object of his disdain followed him out with bent shoulders and downcast head. He had come empty-handed to God's treasury. But something had passed between him and God which the proud Pharisee little imagined: and he might well go away still humbly bending to the ground, for God's mercies and blessings lay heavily upon him. So sang the humble Virgin: "He hath filled the hungry with good things, but the rich he hath sent empty away."

Many imagine that the wealthy are the chief ones who pray like the Pharisee; but this is a great mistake. There are quite as many poor "rich Pharisees" as wealthy rich ones. Being in humble circumstances does not make one humble. The Blessed Virgin did not mean the rich in this world's goods, but those who were rich in their own conceit. So we see many who have not much money to boast of, yet will boast pretty loudly of their piety. They come to pray to God for forgiveness of their sins; and what do they say? "I don't do much. I don't curse. I don't steal. I don't slander my neighbor." And if God did not rouse them up to a sense of the sins they do commit by questioning their consciences, they would go away fully persuaded that they were out-and-out saints, while all the rest of the world were thieves, and liars, and extortioners, and workers of all kinds of iniquity, especially that quarrelsome neighbor who has just taken their place in the confessional, and who, they hope, will meet with severe and righteous treatment. O self-sufficient, rich Pharisee! it is true I have seen you in silk and broadcloth, but I have seen you also in a cotton gown, and a coat out at [the] elbows.

Not a few are found lacking in this requisite to make prayer of any value, because they pray in fear. At first sight, fear would seem to be almost identical with humility; but it is quite a far different thing, for humility brings the soul nearer to God, while fear drives it away. Humility recognizes the greatness and goodness of God, and, while it reverences Him, holds Him for that knowledge in the highest esteem; but fear hides itself, and, in place of esteem, holds Him in slavish dread. Humility is hopeful; fear is full of despair. See those sinners who find themselves in shipwreck, or in some imminent danger of death from disease. They pray, it is true, but how? Is it in sorrow for their sins? Do they want to get back the lost love of God? Oh! no; that is the last thought they have. It is to be saved from death; it is to be cured of their diseases; and what does it all amount to, but that they are trying to make a truce with God? Their whole lives have been at enmity with Him; and now, when God compels them to acknowledge Him, when He conquers them and brings them down, it is not peace they want, but a cessation of hostilities. It is plain enough God is the master. Such souls tremble at death, because it is bringing them nearer to God; the humble souls fear life, because it is so full of the danger of losing Him.

Such was the prayer of the wicked King Antiochus, who prayed to God and made great promises; but it was only fear that wrung the prayer out of him. He cared for nothing but to be restored to life and health; but God rejected his prayers, and left him to die a horrible death, being eaten up by worms. The Scripture says of him: "Then this wicked man prayed to the Lord, of whom he was not to obtain mercy." [Footnote 100]

Now and then the judgments of God hang over sinners. Hell gapes underfoot, and they pray and cry to the Lord for mercy, yet are not heard, because they have no contrition; and are wanting in contrition, because they have no humility. Their fear is the fear of those sinners described by the prophet: "The sinners in Sion are afraid; trembling hath seized upon the hypocrites." [Footnote 101] But the humble soul is not afraid to draw near to God, for the promise encourages it: "An humble and contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise." Such are not afraid, because their contrition is founded on the love of God, and is real and hearty. "Perfect love," says St. John, "casteth out fear."

Look at Mary Magdalen. There was an example of boldness in a truly contrite, humble heart. She dared a good deal. Jesus, her Lord, the God of infinite purity, is the honored guest of a wealthy and proud citizen; she, an abandoned woman. Yet she dared enter the rich man's door. She dared the sneers and contempt of the servants. She dared enter the banqueting hall as an unwelcome intruder, at the risk of being ignominiously expelled. She dared approach the Spotless One, and touch His sacred feet with her polluted hands. But perfect love casteth out fear. Her tears were so many eloquent words of prayer that went straight to the heart of Jesus. Her penitent love chased all fear away, and moved the Lord to say of her: "Many sins are forgiven her, because she hath loved much."

But the most common want of humility is seen in those who pray in selfishness. Has God seen fit to send them a trial—say, a defect in their hearing or sight, or one of their children is born deformed or sickly—then they act as though the like had never been seen before, so querulous are they under the affliction. They pray—a good long string of complaints—over it. Or else the selfishness takes another shape, and, while they can look with indifference upon hundreds who suffer worse, they cannot bear to have the hand of the Lord touch them. They come to beg of the priest to cure them; they come humbly enough in their manner, will go down on their knees, and even kiss the ground, but they have not a particle of humility in their hearts. They are so selfish about their pains and aches that they are quite surprised and vexed if the priest does not profess himself quite ready and able to perform a miracle in their favor; as if the Almighty owed them miracles, or as if they were the only people in the world about whose ease and comfort He was concerned. And then they go away disappointed, giving no heed to the holy words with which the priest tried to teach them to profit by their affliction, and instruct them how to pray to God to be relieved of it, if it be His holy will. Very probably, such people are not in the grace of God at all; and it is plain even to human wisdom that, if God heard and answered their selfish prayers, they would go away puffed up with pride, never think of returning Him any thanks, and lead a worse sinful life than they have before. For it is a proverb: "Do a proud man a favor, and he hates you for it." He dislikes the idea of being laid under an obligation; and this is just what would happen to such. They would dislike God for putting them under the obligation to serve Him the more strictly in return for His favors. God sees this, and, because they have no humility, their prayers are not heard.

It is the same with many spiritually minded persons too. They are led to look for mortifications and crosses, and, when these are sent, then they are both mortified and crossed in another sense. They are humiliated, but not humbled. Oh! how hard they pray to be delivered from these very means of their sanctification. But it is selfishness that makes them pray. They thought themselves saints, and it galls their pride to be treated as though they were yet far from perfection. They suffer, and keenly too, I know. So did our Blessed Lord in His agony, and dereliction on the Cross. But when He prayed, He said to His Father, "Not My will, but Thine be done."

The want of humility in prayer is the bane of those living in heresy. Heresy, you know, is the offspring of pride. Souls fall into it, and wilfully remain in it from an undue opinion of their own wisdom. All heresy must have "private judgment" as its basis of religion. If the true religion ever comes up before them for examination or acceptance, they are almost afraid to pray at all, lest they should pray themselves into submission to it.

They see that the road before them is the road of humility. They start back at the hard sayings. Wanting humility, they have very little conviction of sin; and, like the Pharisee who went up to the temple to recount his good deeds, you will not unfrequently hear such persons, in speaking of the confessional, say with unaffected surprise: "Why, what in the world can you have to tell? I don't think I have any sins to confess."

Oh! if they could once be brought down to pray humbly for light and guidance, how differently would they talk, and how quickly all their fancied difficulties and impossibilities would fade away!

A celebrated master in the spiritual life used to send persons away to pray who came to him to talk controversy. If they were humbly seeking the truth, they found all their objections answered in prayer before they returned. If not, he knew their pride would be proof against both prayer and argument, however long the one or powerful the other.

My brethren, we have all got to pray for what we want, and to pray humbly too, if we expect our prayers to be heard. To pray like the Publican, "O God, be merciful to me a sinner," and not like the Pharisee, "O God, I thank thee I am not like the rest of men."

I recollect an instance, on one of our Missions, which will be a lesson for all those whom I have been addressing this morning. A young man came to me, whom I soon learned to be one of those unfortunate Catholics whose parents do nothing more towards making them Christians than to get them baptized. The first words he said to me were these: "Father, I'm a mighty hard case." I found he was quite ignorant of the principal doctrines of the faith, and sent him away for a few days to learn them. When he presented himself again, he was surprised I did not recognize him. "Why, don't you know," said he, "I'm the mighty hard case?" It was necessary not only to instruct him, but to give him some serious warnings, that he might keep out of bad company, and live thenceforward a good life. Perhaps I was led to speak in a tone that appeared to him rather severe; and it went to my heart to hear the poor fellow repeat the humble judgment he had passed upon himself: "Yes, father, I told you so. I told you I was a mighty hard case." The "mighty hard case" got his communion with great joy and a holy pride; and I remembered the words of the Lord: "Amen, I say to you, this man went down to his house justified … for every one that humbleth himself shall be exalted."

Reflect upon this touching example of an humble soul, and, when you go to pray, think of the necessity of humility, and of patience and resignation to God's will in all things.

Pray! Not in proud self-conceit, for God will despise you, and resist your supplications, and withhold His grace. Without grace you will find yourself falling so repeatedly and grievously into sin that you will lose faith in prayer. When it comes to that, you are on the road to hell.

Pray! Not in fear. That is a bad sign. It looks as though you did not love God; and, it such be the case, you cannot expect Him to hearken to you, or grant you any favors.

Pray! but not in selfishness. Let God and His holy will be all in all to you. Take what He sends. Learn to trust Him in humility and patience. The Lord does not always tell us the reasons why. Whether He commands us as a Master, chastises us as a Father, or teaches us to imitate Him in some hard lesson of humiliation—as when He Himself washed the Apostles feet—He very often has but the same answer to us that He gave to the astonished Peter: "What I do thou knowest not now; but them shalt know hereafter."

Pray in humility, O ye doubting, distrustful souls! God's truth is near enough and plain enough. It is you who are too high-minded to see it, too proud to pray that you may know it. Ask not with Pilate, "What is truth? what is truth?" in the presence of the Infinite Truth, and then, like him, turn away and never hear it.

Cease not to pray, though the morn is long in dawning, and the day of redemption be delayed; but cease not to pray humbly, for, says the wise man, "the prayer of him that humbleth himself shall pierce the clouds, and he shall not depart until the Most High behold." [Footnote 102]