Luke 11:1-13 He was praying in a certain place,
and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to
pray, as John taught his disciples.” He said to them, “When you pray, say:
Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily
bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to
us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” And he said to them, “Suppose
one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend,
lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have
nothing to set before him.’ And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the
door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get
up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give
him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he
will get up and give him whatever he needs. “So I say to you, Ask, and it will
be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for
you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for
everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if
your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the
child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know
how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father
give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
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Do you remember the BP oil
spill in the Gulf of Mexico? It was only
six years ago, but I almost never think about it anymore. Last week I stopped at BP for gas, and I
suddenly remembered it.
The rig exploded on April
20, 2010 and burned for more than a day until it sunk to the bottom of the
ocean. Most of the crew escaped but 11
people were lost. This wreckage caused
oil to gush into the water continuously for 87 days. This was not a small thing. It’s been a long time since I have thought
about it, but I can remember how horrible it felt: every single day we were
thinking about the hundreds of gallons of oil gushing into the ocean; every
single day thinking about the harm to our environment, to wildlife and marine
habitats. Day after day after day it
could not be fixed.
I was sitting in a
worship service that June in Washington DC, and this situation was on
everyone’s minds. The pastor stood in
the center of the sanctuary praying and I remember his words: He said, “Fix it, Lord! Fix it!”
Because we were running out of time and running out of patience and
running out of calm. This was a problem
that no one else seemed to be able to fix and so he prayed – he demanded – that
God would fix it.
I had never heard a
prayer quite like that before, but at the time it seemed appropriate. And ever since then I have wondered if such a
prayer is not, in many times and places, a most appropriate form of
prayer.
I know that some of you
that you might not agree. It seems kind
of bossy to make demands of God. It goes beyond the bounds of polite
conversation and, you might say, suggests that we have forgotten our place.
Our text from the gospel
of Luke today touches on prayer. We have
the disciples asking Jesus to teach them how to pray, and so he did. In his response we recognize parts of what we
know as “The Lord’s Prayer”, or what other traditions simply call “Our
Father.” Each of the first three
gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, contain versions of this story and the prayer
Jesus offered them. Matthew’s is the one
that most completely resembles the prayer we pray every week together.
It’s a form of prayer
that is familiar to most Christians, and even many people of other faiths, as
it been used by public schools, scout troops, 12 Step groups, and other
organizations. It’s a good prayer.
Some Christian traditions
use it to the exclusion of any other prayers because, according to the gospel,
this is how Jesus told us to pray. So,
therefore, this is the exact form we should follow at all times. There are other traditions that never use
this prayer because they believe all prayer should be spontaneous, personal,
and heartfelt expressions. Most of us
who pray use a variety of forms of prayer, but do lean heavily on this one –
because it’s a good prayer.
It’s a good prayer. It gives us the words to say when we have no
words that seem adequate – or right. As
much as we might long to put our desires and our needs into our own words, we
hesitate.
We just don’t know what
we might pray for – I think this is something we all struggle with at times. We are caught between our belief that God is
all-knowing and all-powerful, and our hope that we might ask for what we want
and receive it. I knew a man who was
struggling with this. He had been
praying all his life but he had reached the point where he simply didn’t know
how to pray. Even though he knew what
broke his heart, he wasn’t sure this heartbreak was not a part of God’s
plan. All he could do anymore, he said,
was to lift up a name of a loved one in need, and hold it gently, trembling
before God. A single word prayer said
over and over again.
Do we dare to ask for
what we want? Isn’t it risky to ask for
what we want?
Prayer is hard – not only
because it requires discipline of us.
Prayer is hard because when we think about it we begin to feel helpless
about how we should pray; or even if we should pray.
Perhaps Jesus’ disciples felt
helpless too. During the years of their
discipleship so many things in their world were being turned upside down. Every tradition was questioned; every
expectation was defied. From the moment
they had walked away from their communities, their families, and all that they
had previously believed to be unquestionably right, they were walking in
uncharted territory.
I can imagine that their
request of Jesus, “Teach us to pray,” was a fervent plea from men who no longer
knew what they knew about anything, and desperately wanted a bit of solid
ground on which to stand.
So he gave them some
words to pray, and he taught them something about prayer by using a parable. Imagine a neighbor coming to your door at
midnight, long after the lights have been turned out and the door locked. He is pounding on the door and demanding you
get up and give him some bread. He has
unexpected guests who arrived late and he needs to give them something to eat.
Let’s be honest; we know
how we feel about this. We think it reflects very poorly on this man. He is a very poor housekeeper if he doesn’t
even keep any bread on hand for unexpected guests. We think it’s rude that he would wake the
whole household because of his poor planning.
Nonetheless, when it
comes down to it, if it were our door he was pounding on, we would probably get
up and answer. We would give this man
what he needs. Why? Because we would be even worse than him if we
refused. Wouldn’t we?
Just so, Jesus says. If even you would give this man what he
needs, wouldn’t your Father in heaven do that and more? It’s a hard parable for us to read because of
how extreme it is. He suggests we are
evil. He presents situations that seem
extremely absurd – giving a child a snake or a scorpion. We want to run as far from those word as we
can get. I suppose that is his
intention.
By the way, did you
notice that when I described the parable I asked you to identify with the man
inside the house, the one being asked to help?
But when Jesus told the parable he asked his audience to identify with
the man standing outside the door pounding, the one in need. Yet it is not our desire nor inclination to
identify with one in such desperate need.
As confused as we might
get about prayer, about what is appropriate and acceptable, we only need to
look at the scriptures to be reassured that we may ask for what we need from a
God who has been and will be a God of steadfast love.
Israel knew this. The psalm calls Israel to remember the things
that God has done for them, to remember that God has looked with favor upon
them, forgiving them and restoring them to right relationship when they have
strayed away.
And the people of Israel
know that, even when they feel forsaken, God will restore them. Even when they feel utterly alone, God will
return to them. Even when they feel
wretched, God will forgive them and love them.
There have been many
times since that June day in 2010 that I have prayed for God to fix something –
just fix it. There are so many things
that need fixing in my life, in our world.
And still, sometimes I hesitate.
Do I dare ask for what I want?
Isn’t it risky to ask for what I want?
This is the thing that
prevents us from opening our hearts to God – the fear that we will be
disappointed. Because if you don’t ask,
you can’t be disappointed.
Prayer is a hard
thing. But let me offer three things I
believe we can know about prayer:
Prayer is remembering. Remembering God’s promises, remembering God’s
loving acts toward us.
Prayer is stepping into that space of trust. Trusting that God’s promises are true,
trusting that God will be as God ever was.
And finally,
Prayer is living into a relationship with God. Even when we feel utterly helpless about a
situation, we have power in our hands to do something: the power of
prayer. As Israel is bold to remind God
of all her promises and ask that she will intervene on their behalf once again;
as Jesus assures his disciples that God’s goodness is such that they may ask,
they may search, they may knock on the door and the door will be answered; just
so, you and I may be bold in our prayers, even demand that God take what is
broken and fix it.
May you be bold enough to
ask for what you want, search for what you need, knock on the doors you want
opened. Remember that our God was and is
and always will be the one who restores the world, and us, to her.
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