Luke 11:1-13
July 24, 2022
The tornadoes that hit Oklahoma in
2013 were fearsome and formidable, and they were an event that marked our time
living in that state. The second tornado, an E5, laid waste to Moore, Oklahoma,
wiping out a large section of it, including an elementary school where both
students and teachers lost their lives. It was devastating, and even though
Oklahomans are relatively resigned to bad storms – you can’t live in tornado
alley and not be – this tragic loss of life shook people to their core.
Shortly
after the tornadoes hit, I was at an ecumenical Bible study where a man spoke up and said that
he heard that on the day of the storm at one of the elementary schools in
Moore, when everyone was taking shelter, all the children began to sing “Jesus
Loves Me.” As the storm raged more
fiercely, they sang more loudly. And wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles,
their school remained unharmed. Every child and teacher returned home to their loved
ones that night. His implication was that at the other elementary school, the
one where lives were lost, clearly this did not happen and just look at the
result.
He said this as though it was absolute proof that if you
are just persistent enough, God will answer your prayers. If you just sing
“Jesus Loves Me” loudly enough, God will change the course of the storm so that
it doesn’t touch down on one elementary school, but instead hits the one where
supposedly they weren’t singing. His assessment meant the tornados were no
longer a terrible occurrence of nature, but a new sort of Passover. The
children and teachers who prayed persistently, who sang and prayed
loudly were saved, while those who didn’t weren’t. I was so shocked and appalled at this that I couldn’t find
the words to respond. And it brought me back once again to what happens when we
pray and what doesn’t happen when we pray.
Preacher and writer, Debi Thomas, wrote that when she
comes to this particular text in Luke’s gospel, she approaches it warily and
with great trepidation. She wrote that it was a text full of landmines. And
over the centuries, interpretation of this passage has resulted in what she
called an understanding of God as a cosmic gumball machine. Your prayers are
the coins, just put them in and see what color of gumball you get. I appreciate
this analogy, but I think of this kind of interpretation more like a grocery
list.
In these days of Covid I have come to greatly appreciate
curbside pickup at Kroger. I go to the app on my phone, put the items that we
need in my cart, choose a time for pickup, check-out, and when its time, I go
to the store and have my groceries brought to my car. There can be hiccups,
sure, but for the most part it has been a great way to shop, especially when
life is crazy and I don’t have an hour to walk up and down the aisles. So, when
I think of the kind of understanding of prayer that Debi Thomas wrote of or
what the man in the Bible study alluded to, this is what comes to mind. I give
God my grocery list of needs and wants, and God fills my cart. And if there’s
something that I can’t get, then God either makes a substitution or refunds my
money for that item. But if my analogy holds any truth, and I don’t think it
does, then there have been an awful lot of items that I’ve wanted that have
been out of stock. So, what does this passage in Luke hold for us when it comes
to prayer?
At the beginning of our text, Jesus is noted as praying
in a certain place. I’m not sure the geography of this place matters so much as
the fact that Jesus set aside both a time and place to pray. When he was
finished one of the disciples asked him to teach them to pray as John taught
his disciples. As I understand it, at that time teachers and disciples were
also known by their prayers. John’s disciples must have had a unique prayer
that only he could have taught them. That prayer would have marked them as his
disciples. So, Jesus’ disciples want that same distinction. If Jesus teaches
them a specific prayer, then there would be no mistaking them for anyone else
but his disciples.
Jesus responded by teaching
them these words,
“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.”
Although it’s not exactly the
same, this provides the basis for Lord’s Prayer which we will pray together in
just a few minutes. A version of this prayer is also found in the gospel of
Matthew. But Matthew’s context is very different from Luke’s. In Matthew’s
gospel the prayer is taught as part of the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus is
warning his disciples not to make a show of their religious piety.
“Don’t be like the hypocrites
who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners so
everyone can see them and see how pious and righteous they are. Instead pray in
secret. And when you pray, don’t worry about heaping up empty phrases, just
pray these words.”
Luke’s context is different. As I said, Jesus has been
praying “in a certain place.” His disciples want to be taught as John taught.
They want something distinctive. Jesus, teach us to pray.
Luke’s gospel emphasizes the
point that Jesus spent a great deal of time in prayer. It was prayer that kept
him close to God. It was prayer that kept him on the path he knew he had to be
on. Jesus prayed. Even as the disciples may have wanted to be known as his
disciples by the prayer he taught them, they may have also wanted to
experience the closeness and intimacy and deep connection that Jesus found in
his prayers. I suspect that the disciples could see how prayer affected Jesus,
how it kept him grounded and faithful and staying true to his call and his
ministry. I would not be surprised if the disciples also wanted to experience
that. They must have wanted to be in that close of a relationship with God as
Jesus was. Jesus, teach us to pray.
One other interesting point
to note is that this story of Jesus teaching the disciples to pray follows on
the heels of two stories about discipleship, the Good Samaritan and Martha and
Mary. To grasp the fullness of
discipleship, you must both do and be – see a neighbor in need and help that
neighbor in that moment and recognize that there is a moment to sit at Jesus’
feet and learn and be in that moment as well. It seems to me that the foundation
of both the doing and the being is in prayer. You’ve taught us about doing,
Jesus, and you’ve taught us about being. Now, teach us to pray.
Jesus did just that. He
taught them the specific words we find our passage. But after the prayer, he
also told them this small story about being persistent in prayer. If you have
need of bread, go to your friend’s house, even if its late at night and keep
knocking until you finally annoy the friend enough that he answers the door and
gives you what you need. Here’s a landmine that Thomas spoke of. Does being
persistent in prayer mean that we have to annoy God? Does that mean that the
times when I have prayed and prayed and prayed – not for some materialistic
desire but for someone I love to be healed or for people to be helped – and
what I’ve prayed for has not happened, then I just haven’t knocked long enough
or hard enough? That’s often the response we hear about prayers that seemingly
go unanswered. You haven’t been persistent enough. Or another answer we hear is
that God just said, “No.” Neither of these responses or explanations help. They
don’t help me anyway.
When a parent prays for a
child to be healed from a terrible disease or even just to come home safely
from school, and that doesn’t happen, was that God saying, “No?” Because why
would God say no to the safety of a child? To the health of a child? To the
health and safety of communities? Or for an end to a terrible and unjust war?
Quite frankly, these
responses – either you don’t pray persistently enough, or God just said, “No” –
don’t help. So, what is Jesus telling the disciples? Maybe, it’s not about how
a prayer is answered or not, maybe that has nothing to do with any of it. Maybe
it’s just about praying, about being in that relationship with God. Does prayer
effect change? Yes! But it most often effects change in the one who is praying.
Maybe Jesus found his courage to continue because he prayed. Maybe Jesus found
his strength to stand up to the powers and principalities because he made sure
to spend time in prayer. Maybe that relationship with God that he had in prayer
shone on his face, in his eyes, in his words, in his actions.
And let’s look at what Jesus
actually promises will happen with persistent prayer. There is only one promise
made, and that comes at the end of this passage.
“How much more will the
heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
Jesus does not promise that
persistent prayer will bring about cures for diseases or interventions in the
eye of a storm. Jesus promises that
those who pray persistently will receive the Holy Spirit.
Those who pray persistently,
those who ask, search, and knock will receive the Holy Spirit. And what happens
when the Holy Spirit comes? What happens when the Holy Spirit descends and
moves and blows where it will? People who were afraid gather their courage.
People who thought they were weak discover their strength. People who thought
they could not make a difference, see the steps they need to take to help a
world in need.
And our world is in need. And
our world needs prayer, persistent, relentless prayer. And what does that
prayer do? How does that prayer help? It helps the ones who are praying. It
effects change in the ones who refuse to stop asking, stop searching, and stop
knocking. We pray, not so that God will supernaturally intervene, a giant hand
reaching down from the clouds. We pray so that our faith will deepen and grow.
We pray so that we will find within ourselves the courage to help and challenge
and change. We pray because prayer changes us. Jesus has taught us to pray, so
let us pray and pray and pray.
Let all of God’s children
say, “Alleluia.”
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment