At What Point Do Prayers and Gratitude Become Selfish?

Prayer is a profound thing. We think it, say it, whisper or mutter it. No matter the religion, we cannot do without it. It’s performed five times daily; in an incantation, meditation. Or on a Sunday morning in between sermons – heads nodding and palms joined together in beseechment. Or all day long, muttering under our breaths to the one who hears it all. 

We pray against accidents, failures, enemies within and out, kidnappers and armed robbers, and the forces of darkness. We pray that the weather favours us. Sometimes, we even extend our prayers to NEPA officials, hoping that their hearts are softened, especially the person behind the power switch. 

And as if all of that is not enough, we look inwards, digging deeply into the innate parts of us, the parts heavily saturated in intense competition, and then we pray self-centred prayers. Like the ones where we pray to be the first to buy a car amongst our siblings, or thank God that although some people died yesterday, we’re alive.

It is a common notion that humans have an innate inclination towards self-interest, driven by their instincts to compete for resources, accumulate power, and acquire possessions. Insights from prevalent theories in biology, social science, politics and economics assert that humans are exclusively self-interested. Rational choice theory in economics, aimed at understanding humans and their motivation, posits that humans are motivated to maximise their benefits and minimise costs. According to this theory, human behaviour is fundamentally rooted in self-interest, and it can be explained by understanding how individuals strive to optimise their utility. The bottom line of this theory is simply that human nature is self-interested.  

These self-serving behaviours are reflected in everything we do, from gatekeeping information, hogging office snacks, taking credit for someone else’s work, overindulging in buffet selections, to leaving our lane on the road and causing traffic. It extends even to the kind of prayers we offer – prayers that declare us as the go-to person in the family for money or food and ones that assert that in our absence, meetings would not start or be held.

But not only prayers, even in the gratitude we offer too. Sometimes, in a bid to show our deep appreciation to God, we go overboard. Our thanks are offered in phrases ladened in comparison. Yes, we are grateful, but how can you gauge the magnitude of our appreciation if we don’t make references to the sick in the hospital, the ones who have food but cannot eat, the ones who slept last night and didn’t wake up, or the ones who went out but couldn’t return? We even include the dead in the mortuary. And then we say: “It’s not that we are mocking these people, we are just using it to glorify God.”

It brings to mind the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector where the Pharisee, in giving his thanks, lifted his head and proclaimed, in a loud voice, that he was better than the sinners – the robbers, evildoers, adulterers – or even the tax collector. In his self-involved gratitude, the Pharisee couldn’t see beyond himself. To do that meant recognising other people, especially those whom he considered beneath him. 

One of the things that fuel selfish prayers is the culture of comparison, and a society filled with people who have to compare themselves to others before understanding their place in the world. It’s as if we place people on a scale, and compare our numbers against theirs before we conclude. If our number is lower, we feel inadequate, aspire to be like them, and covet their life in prayers. If we perceive ourselves as superior, we indulge in schadenfreude, thanking God that we are not like them. This, in itself, isn’t wrong, but at what point does it become self-centredness? Because, what do you mean when you pray and say, “Among my friends, may I be the first to buy a car,” or “Among my siblings, may I be the richest,” or “I pray that if I’m not around, family meetings cannot hold. They must wait for me to show up.” At what point does thanksgiving move from being thankful about your current situation to unconsciously mocking other people? Where do we draw the line?

The essence of our gratitude or prayers shouldn’t revolve around people, regardless of their social status. If we derive inspiration to be grateful by putting others down, it necessitates a profound introspection into the true source of our gratitude. If the world were perfect, devoid of poverty, hospital admissions, violence, and injustice, would our gratitude persist? If we genuinely desire success for our siblings, would we endorse prayers that declare us, and us alone, as the head of our family?

In truth, we really don’t have to witness other people’s tragedies to be thankful nor do we have to compare to be prayerful.