Pentecost 7 – 2022
Luke 11:1-13
Marian Free
In the name of God who is ready to be sought out by those who did not ask. Amen.
I have to confess that I have an uneasy relationship with intercessory prayer. For one thing it is not something that has come easily to me and for another I am not entirely sure of its purpose. In recent years I have fallen into a rhythm of prayer. Each day I pray for those whom I know to be in need of healing or hope and I bring before God my concerns for the world. Over the course of my life I have witnessed the miracle of prayers (apparently) being answered – the young woman who falls pregnant, the man who makes a full recovery from a stroke or the mother of two who comes out of a coma. I’m not sure of the relationship between my prayers and the positive outcome, but as someone once said: “When I pray, coincidences happen.”
On a larger scale whether in relation to national or international events, my prayers seem to stretch into emptiness or to hit a brick wall. No amount of prayer it would seem will bring an end to COVID or the suffering and heart ache that has ensued. All the prayer in the world seems ineffective in bringing an end the war in Ukraine, the gang violence in Haiti, the drought in Madagascar or the climate crisis in the Pacific.
My difficulty with intercessory prayer has its roots in the interpretation of passages such as that in today’s gospel: “Ask and it shall be given you, search and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives.” Given that Luke places these words in the context of Jesus’ teaching on prayer, it is easy to interpret them as meaning that God will give us what we ask.
There are a number of problems with this point of view. First and foremost, is the problem of unanswered prayer. If asking means receiving how do we explain all the occasions on which what is asked for is not received? Why does one child die of cancer and another not when both are equally and sincerely prayed for? Secondly, behind the belief that asking is receiving is the concept of an interventionist God; a God who interferes with the affairs of the world to effect justice and to bring about peace. If we believe in a God who interferes in human affairs then we have to believe that God takes sides, that God doesn’t care about those who lose everything in a natural disaster or who are forced to flee their homes because of war. How can God chose sides when Christians in Russia are as convinced that the current war is right and just and the Christians in Ukraine believe equally strongly that the war is wrong and unjust? Thirdly, if asking means receiving, does that make God open and vulnerable to the whims of humankind? Conversely does that mean that humanity knows what is best for the world? Lastly, if asking means receiving, is God to be envisaged as some sort of cosmic supermarket at which we can get whatever we want for free? What on earth would the world look like if everyone got everything they asked for?
This morning’s gospel begins with a request from the disciples: “Teach us to pray.” Jesus’ response is to teach them a very simple prayer. “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.”
In his book The Plain Man Looks at the Lord’s Prayer William Barclay comments that the prayer begins by addressing the memory of the majesty of God, the memory of the purpose of God, and acceptance of the will of God. Before we even begin to think of ourselves we acknowledge God and our submission to God. Three petitions follow this introduction – a prayer for our present need, an acknowledgment of past debts (sins) and a request that God will take care of our future welfare – food for the present, forgiveness for the past and help for the future. Barclay points out that the petitions are Trinitarian in that God the Father is the creator and sustainer of life, God the Son is the Redeemer (of our debts) and God the Holy Spirit is our guide, helper and protector.
There is nothing in this prayer that suggests God’s response to the individual petitions of believers. This universal prayer does not suggest that God intervenes in the daily lives of individuals. Indeed the very language makes it clear that it is a prayer for the community, the people of God. “Give us, forgive us, do not bring us. Furthermore, the prayer itself is relational – our relationship to God and to each other. It is a recognition of God’s majesty and an acceptance of our limitations, and as a consequence leads us to place ourselves in God’s hands. (What it is not, is an invitation to envisage God as a heavenly supermarket designed to meet our every need.)
Which leads us to the remainder of today’s gospel – a parable about persistence and an example from daily life that suggests that what God guarantees us is not our heart’s desire, not the well-being of those for whom we care, not world peace but the Holy Spirit. We will never know why Luke chose to put these three together, but a possible lesson is this: that our primary task in prayer (individually and corporately) is to relinquish our own desires and to give ourselves entirely into God’s hands, that God will not think the less of us when we figuratively batter down God’s door asking that God respond to our needs and that God’s greatest gift to us os the gift of God’s self – the Holy Spirit – for which we only need ask to receive.


