Hearing The Word

A weekly newsletter delivering context and insight into the Sunday Gospels.

October 26, 2025

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus addressed this parable

to those who were convinced of their own righteousness

and despised everyone else.

"Two people went up to the temple area to pray;

one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector.

The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,

'O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity --

greedy, dishonest, adulterous -- or even like this tax collector.

I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.'

But the tax collector 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.'

I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former;

for whoever exalts himself will be humbled,

and the one who humbles himself will be exalted."

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Pride and Humility

~Kelly Anderson, S.S.L., Ph.D

Associate Professor of Biblical Studies for the Major Seminary, Saint Charles Borromeo Seminary + Ambler, Pa.

In the Gospel the tax collector returns from the Temple “justified,” meaning that he is in a covenant relationship with God and that he can stand in the presence of God without fear.

Unfortunately, the Pharisee did not return justified. But why not? He did not kill, steal, bear false witness, commit adultery or covet. Unfortunately for him, his situation is far worse because he is infected with the worst of sins: pride.

Gregory the Great calls pride the “queen of sins,” saying that “pride is the root of all evil,” drawing from Sirach who says that “pride is the beginning of sin, and the one who clings to it pours out abominations” (Sir 10:13). Gregory teaches that when the heart is consumed with pride, it surrenders to the seven capital sins (Moralia on Job 35.87). And the poor Pharisee suffers from pride: he “takes up his position,” probably to be seen by others. He prays “to himself,” not to God, and offers God no petition, praise, or thanksgiving. Rather, he congratulates himself on how well he keeps the law, and how far he is separated from the messiness of human beings.



The antidote to pride is humility. Humility is often tied to repentance since humility means to know the truth of oneself. According to Gregory, “the more closely one is united to humility, the more he adheres also to truth” (Moralia on Job 26.5). And so, a humble person knows he is sinful, knows he cannot overcome his sins on his own, and knows himself to be a “beggar before God” (Augustine, Sermon 3.5).

And the tax collector is humble: he “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.’” Because he knew himself to be a sinner and begged for mercy, he went home justified, graciously forgiven by God.

Humility and Prayer

~Stan Sienkiewicz

Saint Albert the Great Church + Huntingdon Valley, Pa.



As I sat with this Gospel, I found myself reading it through two, ideally interconnected, lenses - humility and prayer. I didn’t come with a plan and what surfaced first was a mix of discomfort and curiosity. I watched where my mind and heart moved as the temple scene unfolded, presenting a clear contrast between self-righteousness and humility.

The Pharisee looks around and talks of all that he does and how glad he is that he’s not like others, essentially speaking his “prayer to himself.” In contrast, the tax collector’s prayer is simple and direct, “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” He stands at a distance, his gaze lowered, and his hand to his chest. He simply presents the truth of his need. His unadorned honesty is unsettling in a helpful way. It suggests that humility is not self-contempt or self-erasure but the courage to stand before God without props or performance.

I notice echoes of the Pharisee in me, not in his exact words but in the habit of scanning the room and measuring myself against others. This outward gaze pulls me into a comparison with fellow parishioners and away from God. It is a habit that I often find creeps back. While my prayer is not focused on the good I have done, it typically involves asking for help, guidance, and solutions to the problems or difficulties I may be facing. None of these requests are wrong, but they can keep the focus on outcomes rather than on growing a relationship. I’m not turning to God with simple attention, praise, or quiet listening. But, when I slowly echo the tax collector’s prayer, the words gather my scattered attention and place it not on my self-assessment or wish list, but on God Himself. The words shift my focus from managing to meeting, from talking about God to speaking to him.



It was important for me to note that both men go to the same Temple. It reinforces the idea that I can enter the same church, sit in the same pew, say the same prayers, and still miss the point if my words circle around my needs instead of opening toward God. When I let the tax collector’s prayer set the tone, something loosens inside, as if humility makes room for God to be God and for me to be received as I am. That is the place I want to pray from: without comparison, without performance, simply and honestly. This week I want to put into action what Jesus is telling me. I want to pray directly to him and not talk about myself.