But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as those who are of the nations for they think they shall be heard through their much speaking.
The Lord warns against a fault in prayer: treating the number of words as the thing that moves God. Does prayer work by volume — and if not, why pray at all? (Where the ESV reads "heap up empty phrases," older translations say "vain repetitions" — the phrase most of the writers below discuss.)
The fault is not length in itself but the belief that persistence in the same formula earns a hearing. One writer defines it, then points to the first part of the cure:
Vain repetitions were, we suppose, the repeating of the same requests in the same words. People thought there was merit in keeping up their cries like this, and that, as the Lord says, they would be heard for their much speaking… So it is well to consider the twofold, entirely effective antidote. The Lord speaks plainly of one, and just as clearly implies the other. The first is confidence in God: "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him." Knowing this, the soul will be content to leave its petitions to His care and love.
Another commentator quotes Martin Luther. Behind the babbling lies a fear that God is not listening.
Here He criticises the abuse of prayer, when those who are praying use many words and babblings. He calls this a heathen practice — a loose, idle and useless talk of people who think they would otherwise not be heard. The spirit of the worshipper prays. Because he knows that God will hear him, he dares not use such endless, idle talk. The fewer the words, the better the prayer.
The Lord's own example in the garden settles this.
Our Lord does not forbid frequent repetition but "vain repetition." He Himself, blessed be His name, in His agony in the garden, prayed the same thing three times over. This is enough to prove that repetition can be very far indeed from being "vain." One person praying alone, or many Christians gathered together, may press the same matter again and again, earnestly and urgently, when it weighs heavily on the heart. No one can rightly call that "vain repetition."
The line runs between a recited formula and a burdened heart returning to the same request:
We have to tell two things apart. One is the vain repetition of set "formulas" said over and over. The other is the intense, fervent prayer of a believer who in his trouble keeps repeating his request. The Lord Jesus Himself gave His disciples the parable of the widow, to show that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.
The Lord's warning reaches past Israel to the nations — and past them to what would come later:
The Lord had to accuse the Jews of hypocrisy. He had to judge the heathen nations too, for their vain repetitions and much speaking in prayer (see 1 Kings 18:26-29). Beyond that He also warns His disciples against senseless prayers. He knew in advance what would develop in Christianity.
Applied to public prayer, this puts long-winded praying in unflattering company:
A careful reading of the Scriptures will show that long public prayers are not the rule in the Bible. The Lord refers to them with withering disapproval… Solomon said: "Guard your steps when you go to the house of God… God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few" (Eccl. 5:1-3). So anyone who makes long public prayers puts himself in the same class as the heathen, the scribes, and fools, which is not very complimentary.
The Father already knows the need. So prayer must have another purpose.
Prayer is unnecessary as a way of telling God what we need. But it is not an exercise wasted when the child opens its heart and unburdens itself to its Father who is in heaven. This is the appointed way of relief for the heart of the creature: to pour out its requests to God.
The danger is not only public. It reaches into daily private prayer.
You find, I dare say, that you fall into this trap most often during your habitual prayers, in the mornings and evenings, for example. Suddenly you notice that you are saying the usual round of petitions without thinking, while your thoughts travel in all directions. This fault, if unchecked, will cause your prayers to become "vain repetitions."
- The error — The sin is not many words, but seeking merit in many words, as if God listens only after we wear Him down.
- The exception — Repetition is not the sin. The Lord Himself repeated His prayer three times; a heart pressing one heavy burden is never "vain."
- The reason — The nations prayed long because they doubted God heard them; the believer prays short because he knows God hears.
- The antidote — Confidence: your Father already knows the need. Prayer informs no one; it unburdens the child.
- The watch — The trap is nearest in the daily habit, when the lips run the usual round and the thoughts wander elsewhere.
Be not ye therefore like them, for your Father knows of what things ye have need before ye beg [anything] of him.
Jesus says this right after warning against piling up words in prayer. It takes away the whole reason for it: we pray to a Father who already knows. That raises the obvious question — if He knows before we ask, why ask at all?
The verse opens with a command to be different. The mistake it corrects is thinking that many words move God. One commentator quotes Luther:
"Here He criticises the abuse of prayer, when those who are praying use many words and babbling. He calls this a heathen practice — loose, idle and useless talk, by people who think God would not hear them otherwise. The spirit of the worshipper prays. Because he knows that God will hear him, he dares not use such endless, idle talk. The fewer the words, the better the prayer."
Jesus targets empty repetition, not repetition itself. Older translations call this "vain repetition," and the word "vain" matters:
Our Lord does not forbid frequent repetition, but "vain repetition." He Himself, blessed be His name, prayed the same thing three times over in His agony in the garden. That is enough to prove that some repetition is very far indeed from being "vain." A person praying alone, or many Christians gathered together, may press and press again a matter that weighs heavily on the heart. They may do it earnestly, fervently and without giving up, and no one can charge them with "vain repetition."
The reason not to babble is a relationship — "your Father." One writer shows what human parents cannot combine:
He is marked by wisdom, love and power — a perfect combination. For instance, a mother might bend over her sick and dying child in the tenderest love. She loves the child, but she lacks the power to restore the child to health. Again, a father may have an only son. He is rich. He can give his son every luxury and satisfy every whim the young man may have — and in the end ruin the child for life. He has love and power, but lacks wisdom. But in the case of our heavenly Father there is love, power and wisdom.
If the Father already knows, prayer is not an information service. Its purpose lies elsewhere.
Is prayer then unnecessary, a useless exercise? It is unnecessary as a way of telling God what we lack. But it is not an exercise wasted when the child opens its heart and unburdens itself to its Father in heaven. It is the appointed way of relief for the heart of the creature to pour out its requests to God.
There is a second reason. Prayer does something in us, not only for us:
That our Father knows what we need is one side. The other side is that He wants us to keep realising our own weakness and dependence on Him. He wants to keep us in the enjoyment of communion with Him. Nothing helps this more than personal, confidential prayer.
The verse says the Father knows what things you need. That is a narrower word than we usually mean when we pray.
"YOUR Father!" If God is our Father, we are blessed indeed... One who knows what we need. What we want is another matter. A child in a family gets its needs supplied. But if the three-year-old wants to play with his father's sharp razor, his father refuses him. God is as loving in His refusals as in His answers.
The danger of empty praying is not limited to the people Jesus described. One writer points to two things that cure it, the second being the prayer that starts in the next verse:
Even the Jews were not free from the same tendency... and certain professing Christians have repeated the very evil the Lord condemns here. Even more could be said, for almost everyone is tempted this way. So it is worth looking at the twofold, wholly effective cure. The Lord speaks plainly of one, and just as clearly implies the other. The first is confidence in God: "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him." Knowing this, the soul will be content to leave its petitions to His care and love. The second is that prayer must be divinely taught: "Pray then like this."
- Knows — Our prayers tell the Father nothing new. He knows every need before we speak a word.
- So — Because He knows, length and repetition buy nothing. The fewer the words, the better the prayer; but earnest pressing of a real burden is never "vain."
- Still — Prayer is still the appointed relief for the heart. It keeps us aware of our weakness and in communion with Him.
- Need — He knows our need, not our wants. His refusals carry the same love as His answers, because He alone joins love, power and wisdom.
- Taught — Confidence in the Father is one half of the cure for empty praying; the prayer He goes on to teach is the other.