Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

In contrast to their arrangement in Matthew, these verses are presented in Luke’s Gospel in a way that encourages us to hear Jesus’ instructions about prayer and then to hear how God can be expected to respond to our petitions.

Even a casual examination of the Lukan version of the text suggests that these elements have been assembled from separate sources. While the elements can be heard on their own, their interaction has the effect of enhancing their collective meaning.

Consider the first four verses. Here we encounter the Lukan version of what has come to be called "The Lord’s Prayer." It is shorter and simpler than the version in Matthew’s Gospel. The wording is not as elegant, and Luke’s version has only five petitions while Matthew’s has seven. These differences suggest to most commentators that "the Lukan structure is probably closer to the original form of the prayer" (Culpepper 1995:234; New Interpreter’s Bible vol. 9., Nashville, Abingdon Press).

As presented in Luke, this prayer is followed by parables that help us to comprehend Jesus’ instructions about how to pray. This is, after all, the purpose of parables – to place us in hypothetical situations where we can contemplate how we would act. In the present case, what would we do if a friend called upon us at midnight to ask for assistance – in this case, three loaves of bread? That’s easy, we say, of course we would do whatever we could to help.

Let me give an example. The other night, near midnight, the phone rang as I worked at the computer in my home office. I picked up the receiver and heard a computerized voice ask me if I would accept a collect call from my friend, Miguel. After I said "Yes," he came on the line. Instead of having arrived in Guatemala City as planned, he found himself stuck in the George Bush International Airport in Houston. That evening’s storms had prevented his flight from Dallas reaching Houston in time to make the connecting flight to Guatemala. He said that he had tried calling several persons but no one had answered. He asked me to contact the hotel where he was supposed to have arrived to tell them about the problems with his flights. He also asked me to try to contact a mutual friend, Julia, who already had been in Guatemala for a week. She was expecting to meet him in nearby Antigua on the following morning.

Under the circumstances, Miguel was planning on spending the night at the airport, then trying to go "stand-by" on the 9:30 am flight. We agreed that, if he got on the morning flight, he would not call me again, and that I would send an e-mail to Julia about the changes in his arrangements. So, I spent some time composing an e-mail message in my not-very-elegant Spanish explaining his predicament – and sent it to the hotel (with a copy to our mutual friend waiting in Guatemala).

The following morning, I received a phone call from Guatemala. It turned out that Julia had come into Guatemala City from Antigua with her fellow Presbyterians from Dallas. She had looked for Miguel but not located him at his hotel. I told her about his problems, and she worked out a way to contact him after he arrived at midday. That night I received a joint e-mail from them that Miguel had arrived safely on his "stand-by" morning flight, but without his bags – which still had not arrived by Saturday evening.

Like the Lukan story of the man who seeks three loaves of bread from his friend in the middle of the night, Miguel’s case illuminates the need to ask. And he did.

Have you ever found yourself thinking, "I could use some help," but you decided not to ask because you didn’t want to bother anyone. Instead of asking, most of us pursue our own paths. In keeping our needs to ourselves, we fail to offer our friends (and even strangers) the opportunity to do good. When we fail to ask for help, we reserve that "good" to ourselves. Not asking is an unexpected form of being selfish.

This is an important cultural issue for many of us Americans. We pride ourselves on our individualism and our independence. Too many of us work so hard at not asking for help that we end up distancing ourselves from our friends – and, in the case of men unwilling to ask directions when driving, from their destinations. In the process, we fail to get where we are supposed to be going. More importantly, we fail to build and sustain the sense of community that is so important for being fully human throughout our lives.

How are we to go beyond our cultural bias toward individualism and independence? How are we to learn to depend on others, when this seems so un-American? Jesus offers a solution in the final verses of this morning’s gospel lesson.

First, Jesus says to his disciples: "Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you" (v. 9). This familiar commandment has a special quality that is hidden from those of us who hear it in English. Here is the secret: these verbs – ask, search, and knock – are in the

present active imperative 2nd person plural. Furthermore, the objects of these verbs also are in the plural – what we who live in Texas typically translate as "you all."

In effect, Jesus commands his disciples, collectively as well as individually, to take action to seek help. Then, Jesus offers two further examples – first contrasting fish and snakes and then eggs and scorpions – of asking/giving gifts to children. These rhetorical questions are followed by another traditional rhetorical device -- the argument from "the lesser to the greater." In the "lesser" case, Jesus argues that even evil humans give good gifts to our children; therefore, in the "greater" case, God as the greater being will give a greater gift – namely, the gift of the Holy Spirit to those who ask.

In these thirteen verses from chapter 11 of Luke’s Gospel, Jesus takes his disciples from instructions in how to pray to God to a command to do so. We, too, have been taught to pray, and commanded to do so. Too often, we fail to do so. God does not impose upon us a certain way of being, but gives us freedom to choose our path.

As you contemplate the power of prayer, do keep in mind what you seek. And contemplate these words from Mother Teresa of Calcutta, the Nobel-prize winner who spent much of her life attending to the poorest of the poor. She said, "I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness."

The wisdom of Mother Teresa’s statement offers us a model for a rare and blessed form of faithfulness. These days, I hear too many persons respond to the friendly question, "How’s it going?" with the phrase "Don’t ask." This reply carries the implicit meaning that the person’s day is so bad that it does not bear talking about. If we really care about the person and the question we have posed, then not asking should not be an option. Following Jesus’ example, be a faithful friend, and care enough to go beyond your friend’s off-putting reply. Take courage, and ask.

Amen.

© 2007 Van Kemper (email: rkemper@trinitypresdallas.org)