How Do We Pray?

Scripture: Luke 18:1-8

What is your essential cause?

The woman was not seeking forgiveness or mercy; she was demanding justice for a cause that mattered greatly to her. She was confronting a man who held significantly more power, firmly believing that justice should prevail and that her opponent should not obstruct her cause. 

God has placed vital causes in our hearts, offering profound answers to the question, “Why live?” We are not meaningless miracles. Although we may sometimes become distracted, leading us to be taken by surprise when faced with death, we also experience moments of gratitude. These moments can arise from pain or a profound awakening to our higher purpose. In these instances, we rise to fight against situations we no longer wish to tolerate or we strive to achieve goals that extend beyond ourselves. 

We all face adversaries who seek to stop us from achieving our important goals. The widow could have felt defeated or entertained by these challenges, and she might have even fallen into the adversary’s logic, thinking he was justified. Sometimes, our greatest adversary can even be our own comfort. 

Jesus reveals three powerful abilities we can call upon when fighting for a cause that leads to a significant victory in our lives. 

First, remember that the cause you are fighting for demonstrates that you have an important purpose. It elevates you above the comfort of silence and the reluctance to be complacent, leading you to the certainty that achieving your goals is possible and worth fighting for. 

Second, constant prayer and worship are the best strategies for being aware of God’s presence in our lives. Even the adversary who sought to destroy the vital cause served as an incentive for this woman to rise above her circumstances and seek justice. We must always remember that God desires to accompany us until we achieve victory. 

Finally, this prayer teaches us to always look above ourselves and our own adversary. If we only saw ourselves or our prayer was focused on the adversary instead of achieving our vital cause, we would be engaged in a fight where perhaps hatred, resentment or revenge had more weight than our thirst for justice and connecting us with our higher purpose. 

Jesus teaches us that despite our weaknesses and life’s injustices, there is a powerful Judge deeply invested in our fulfillment. He designed us and our challenges can help us recognize His presence. What important cause in your life motivates you to build character and seek God’s companionship through intercession?

Scripture: Luke 18:9-14

Could it be that I am conversing with myself rather than with God?

Comparisons are not the best way to connect with God; they diminish compassion for ourselves and others. Engaging in inner dialogues that focus on comparison can lead us away from intimacy with Him, creating a disconnect. Such comparisons make us believe that only our perspective matters rather than acknowledging the vastness of the universe around us. We often find false security in labeling our actions as good without consulting God. While these comparisons might help us understand, they should never be used to define our worth from God’s perspective. 

The Pharisee defined himself through self-comparison in his internal dialogue, refusing to listen to the voice of God. How often do I find myself only comparing different versions of myself instead of hearing God’s voice? During my monologue—which can swing from feelings of condemnation or shame to pride—I treat God as a mere observer of my dialogue in front of my own mirror. 

Those comparisons also deny the possibility of a relationship, and without relationships, I can’t hear other voices. 

How often do we pray like the Pharisees and feel frustrated when we don’t hear God’s voice? I’m not referring to God’s silence that encourages us to go deeper. Those divine pauses invite us to keep communicating with Him, urging us to seek a deeper understanding of our desires and the messages we wish to convey. In those moments, He reassures us that He will respond. 

In prayers resembling the Pharisee‘s prayer, we often speak to ourselves, convincing ourselves that our actions are justified. We mistake our own voices for “the voice of God,” leading us further away from Him. This justifies harmful positions that only elevate us while ignoring the true essence of our faith. 

Are we aware of God’s presence when we speak to Him? Do we try to justify ourselves, condone ourselves, or hide our faults by pointing out the faults of others? Those who recognize God’s presence during prayer experience the liberating power of humility and the fragility of human justifications aimed at impressing God.

Scripture: Luke 18:9-14

Lord, here I am. I need You.

The first thing that stands out to me is that the publican did not engage in comparison. He didn’t say, “Lord, forgive me because I’m not like this perfect Pharisee,” nor did he express a desire to be like him or her. Once again, those who compare themselves to others fail to recognize that only God truly knows each person; our perceptions are always incomplete. The tax collector chose not to compare himself but to surrender to the God who knows us and never makes mistakes. 

The tax collector looked to God and said, “My God, here I am, with my sins and my entire being. Cover me with Your forgiveness, goodness, and mercy.” Reflecting on the ancient Greek word “propitiation” (or *hilaskomai*) used in this text and in Hebrews 2:17 when referring to Jesus’ atoning sacrifice, we can see that it represents a type of surrender—an act of altogether abandoning oneself to another. 

This tax collector did not give himself up to save mankind like Jesus. Instead, he fully surrendered himself to God to seek salvation. It was an offering to be enveloped by the Father, presenting both his light and darkness. Aware of his limitations, he did not justify himself or compare his situation to others. He simply surrendered and asked to be covered and reconciled with God. 

In other versions, the tax collector pleaded with God to reconcile him. Reconciled people go beyond mere repentance and forgiveness; they discover communion with the Divine. 

There is greatness in the humility of recognizing ourselves as we truly are before God. In this recognition, we can hear Him reveal who we really are to Him, regardless of how troubled our lives may be. By surrendering ourselves in this way, we discover the embrace of a God who lifts us up. 

I find it fascinating that right after this reflection, Luke shares the story of the children being lifted into Jesus’ arms. God teaches us that whoever humbles himself will be exalted. However, when someone gives themselves completely into the arms of the Father, they do not do it to be lifted up or to be displayed as examples for others to follow. Instead, they realize that there is no greater honor than being embraced by the Father. 

When God looks at me, recognizes me, and embraces me, that is what truly matters. While being exalted is good, being embraced by God is everything. 

God, we want to surrender ourselves to you as this man did. God, cover us with Your embrace.