St Luke’s, Havelock North – Ordinary Sunday 17 2007 – Sermon ‘The Lord’s Prayer’

 

Readings: Hosea: 1:2-10; Col 2:6-15; Luke 11:1-13

 

I doubt that there is any part of the Bible that’s better known than the Lord’s Prayer. There might be a few hiccups over which version and the odd line gets missed, but in general pretty much anyone who has ever had anything to do with the Church or a boarding school knows it – which probably explains why so few of us pay it much attention.

 

Today’s gospel reading brings us to the last of three vignettes Luke offers focused on the life of a disciple. In the Good Samaritan we find the disciple called to ‘go and do likewise’ – to treat all as a neighbour, no matter who they are. In the story of Martha and Mary the disciple is described as someone who assumes the disciple’s position – who sits at the feet of the Master, listening and learning – and today we hear Jesus’ teaching on the life of the disciple as a life of prayer.

 

Prayer has always been big business for the Church. From day one I doubt that any other topic within our faith has had so much written and said about it. Go to any Christian bookshop or theological library and you’ll find literally thousands of books and articles and DVDs and who knows what else, all focused on prayer, which isn’t surprising really.

 

Prayer has always been a central and yet slightly mysterious part of faith. And it’s natural that we mere mortals, unable to see God or fully grasp what God’s all about, want to know as much as we can about how to communicate with this Source of All Being whom we worship and honour every week. But still it seems a bit strange to me that entire forests should have to die, whole bookshelves should have to overflow, hours upon hours of reading and studying should have to go on, when Jesus summed up his own teaching on prayer in just three words - ask, search, knock.

 

The story is basic enough; Jesus is responding to a simple request from his disciple, Lord, teach us to pray. John, like all rabbis, had taught his disciples to pray, so Jesus’ disciples wanted him to do likewise and Jesus responds with those well known words we call The Lord’s Prayer. Much time could and should be spent looking at what this prayer actually says, however, there’s too much here to cover in one sermon, so we’ll take the Lord’s Prayer as read for now, but I want to come back to a bit of it later because it’s central to what Jesus is saying here.

 

So Jesus teaches them this prayer but then goes on to tell them more. Just knowing the prayer, he says, isn’t enough. It’s all very well mouthing the words, but the prayer to have meaning, to have substance, we need to have some idea of what it is we’re praying for and how and both those things will depend largely on our understanding of just who – or what - it is that we’re praying to.

 

This is a key part of our reading this morning. If we understand the God we pray to as an angry God who judges us and needs us to appease him, that will shape how we pray and what we pray for. If we understand the God we pray to as a distant God, unknowable and unapproachable, that will shape how we pray and what we pray for. If we understand the God we pray to as our buddy whom we can high five and call ‘mate’, that will shape how we pray and what we pray for. Knowing who you’re praying to, Jesus says, is the key to prayer, and he illustrates that point with the Parable of the Persistent Friend.

 

This story bothers me at times. At first glance it seems to say that if you ask for something often enough, you’ll get it. It’s like what kids do when they want something. ‘Can I have it?’ ‘No’, ‘Can I have it?’ ‘No’ – how long does it take before we crack and say yes? Is that really what we mean by prayer? I get somewhat suspicious when I see some of these prayer marathons advertised. We’re going to spend 24 hours praying constantly for something or other. Do we really think that God will say yes if we nag enough? Don't get me wrong, I think many prayer vigils are a good thing, mainly because they help us focus on the matter at hand. But I don’t believe God’s response will be any faster or more positive just because we ask more often or because there are more of us asking for it.

 

So if that’s not what this story says, what is? As is so often the case, context is crucial here. The central character is the man who receives an unexpected guest late at night. According to his culture it’s essential that this guest be offered a meal, but there’s no food in the house, so he goes to a friend’s house to borrow some. But the friend is in bed. Jesus’ listeners would have known what this meant. In ancient Palestine the door to a house was typically only closed at night. A locked door meant that was it, no one was coming in or out, no matter what. But the man persists in his door knocking until finally his friend gives up and opens the door to give him some bread.  Who can blame him? If he didn’t’ answer the door he’d never get any sleep, so it’s not surprising that he gives in, and that’s why this isn’t the end of the parable.

 

What makes a parable a parable is the surprise at the end. A parable is a story that seeks to change the way we think about things by offering an unexpected outcome to a normal situation. But in this case the outcome is completely predictable, so to understand the parable – indeed, to even make it a parable – we need to look at what Jesus goes on to say next.

 

Having told this story of the man who rouses his friend in the middle of the night, Jesus goes on to say, ‘If you think that was a good friend, wait until you meet God!’ Everything the man had to persist to get his friend to do, Jesus says, God does straight away. The persistent friend had to beg to be leant some bread, but Jesus tells us all we need do is ask. The persistent friend might well have been left looking at a locked door all night, but Jesus says knock and it will be opened. And then he reminds us of that opening word in his prayer - Father. Such a difficult word so often, but it’s not really the word that matters here it’s what the word implies – a close, intimate, loving relationship. God is like a father, and what father would refuse to give his children what they most needed? That’s what God is like.

 

But that’s not all God is like. There’s a tension here that we need to recognise. While on the one hand God is this loving, caring father, on the other hand God is still God, and there is a hint of the unknowable and the untouchable about that. “Our Father in heaven.” God is like a father, but God is also beyond everything we’ve experienced and known. God will give us what we need, but this is still the God who’s ways so often aren’t our ways and who’s priorities are not those we might usually expect. A disciple of mine, Jesus implies, recognises this and knows that it’s not just about praying, it’s also about what we pray for.

 

Your kingdom come. Give us our daily bread. Forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. How often do we think about what we’re really saying in the Lord’s Prayer? Do we really want God’s kingdom to come? A kingdom that every single example offered in scripture tells us will turn our view of reality on its head. Are we prepared to settle for just our daily bread? This brings to mind the wandering Israelites in the desert, receiving enough manna from heaven for just the one day, no more, no less. Those of us who have brought up to always have something aside for a rainy day might want to think twice before we pray that line, and as for the next, do we really realise how contingent that prayer is? Forgive us our sins as we forgive others. We might just as well say, if we don’t forgive others, please don't forgive us.

 

The prayer may be simple and straight forward, but in offering it to his disciples us Jesus says this is what following me involves, not just accepting it, but wanting it, praying for it – this lifestyle radically different than what you’re used to, vastly different to what might be considered normal, that’s what you’re praying for here. And that must surely be the point we have to keep in mind when we consider Jesus’ summing up of the lesson. Ask, search, knock. Contrary to what some may think, nowhere here does Jesus say ask for anything. If we learn anything from a close examination of the gospels it’s that no one word, saying, story or action of Jesus can be taken in isolation from the rest. It’s only when we look at the big picture that we get an overall idea of what he was on about. And that big picture is consistently about radically changing our point of view. It’s about understanding that the way of God is not the way that we would consider normal. It’s about recognising that the abundant life we find in Christ is dependant on accepting death.

 

Unlike any of the stacks of books you’ll find on the subject, Jesus sums up his lesson on prayer with just three words - ask, search, knock. Like so much of what Jesus gives us, however, this is not some magic formula we can memorise and abracadabra we’re done. As usual, Jesus leaves us with some homework. Ask and you’ll receive, search and you’ll find, knock and the door will be opened. But first, spend time discovering what to ask and search for, and which doors to knock on. Discovering the what of asking, searching and knocking is another whole lesson in prayer itself. It’s a lesson about listening rather than talking, reflecting rather than requesting and sitting with rather than moving on. But it’s also a lesson we don’t have time to dwell on right now.

 

Ask, search, knock. Three little words that raise a lifetime worth of questions. May God be with us in our asking. Amen.