Pentecost 9
Luke 11:1-13, Genesis 18:20-32
Luke 11:1-13, Genesis 18:20-32
It is a difficult thing – to pray. It is a difficult thing – to know how to
pray. It is sometimes not difficult
enough – not to know what to pray for.
I love every story in the Bible –
and I love that story from Genesis 18. It
is a beautiful and wonderful story. And when
told and retold among the religious communities of the ancient near east, this
story was a tremendous statement about the graciousness of the God of the
Hebrews; this story exposed the unthinkable thought that a “god” would listen,
even to a faithful servant, and care what that servant had to say.
But we don’t live in the ancient
near east. And 4,000 years have passed
between the time of Abraham and the times in which we live. I wonder, if perhaps, we have become too comfortable
with the realization of God’s graciousness and eagerness to hear our petitions. What if that is the case, so that when we
hear this story from Genesis 18 we think THIS is the way that the followers of
Jesus are to pray.
Here is what I fear – that after
reading of Abraham’s bargaining with the Lord, we might read Jesus’
instructions on prayer and think that this he is encouraging the same
behavior. I am afraid, that all too
often, we already misunderstand prayer – thinking of it as an opportunity to
negotiate.
I just don’t believe this is what
Jesus intends us to do. I don’t believe
that such an understanding of prayer is helpful to us or to our life of faith.
Prayer is important. Understanding prayer is a life-long
process. And it isn’t (always)
easy. Why else would Luke introduce this
whole section with an acknowledgement that the Disciples come to Jesus, asking
him to teach them to pray. They needed
instruction. Why would we assume that we
do not?
There are countless prayer
books. Amazon.com easily identified 252,086
titles. AugusburgFortress (our church
publishing house) listed 76 matches. I
haven’t read that many books on prayer; but I have read a few. Perhaps you have, also. In which case you can support me when I say
that not all of those books are in complete agreement. Those who write books on prayer usually write
because none of the previously written books speaks directly to their own
experience of prayer. Searching for that
which does articulate their experience, they make another contribution to the
offerings.
Prayer is very individual. Prayer is extremely personal. Prayer speaks the deep yearning of our hearts.
Jesus’ disciples come to him and
ask, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” (I have kind of glossed over that part – that
Jesus’ disciples have noted that John taught his disciples.) Jesus’ disciples ask him to help them learn
to speak the language of one’s soul. His
response is to give them the prayer we continue to pray, each and every
Sunday. By-the-way, I did a search of
Amazon.com for books on “The Lord’s prayer.”
Fewer titles than before – but I still got 31,385 suggestions.
I resisted the urge to start
ordering books. I also know that I am a
slow reader. What I decided to do was
pull a small book (very small book) off my shelf and re-read it. Maybe you have one of these books in your
house, too. Perhaps you have parts of
this book committed to memory. At one
time in your life, you probably did.
Luther’s “Small Catechism” doesn’t teach us everything we would want to
know about prayer, but it points us in a good direction. (I almost said “Right Direction” but I
realized that would be “wrong.” There is
nothing more “right” about Luther’s understanding of prayer. It only has importance among us because we
have self-identified as individuals who find his presentation of the Gospel to
be a comfortable fit with our own.)
If you no loner have Luther’s Small
Catechism committed to memory, you can look it up on the back of the hymnal –
it begins on page 1160, in the very back.
You can also use that handy-dandy QR code on the back of your bulletin
to download a copy to your smart phone.
As much as I would like to do so, I
won’t turn this into a two-hour lecture on Part III of the Catechism – that
part which deals with the Lord’s Prayer.
I will use this time to re-direct you to your own study, reminding you
that Luther scoffed at those who would read the Catechism once and toss it into
the corner as if it had been mastered.
He returned, daily, to the Catechism.
Committed it to memory and drew from it in practically every situation. It is my own reading and re-reading of the
Catechism which lies behind my revulsion at the mere suggestion that prayer is
an opportunity to bargain with God.
Luther sees it quite differently.
When he writes on the 4th
petition and the 6th petition, he instructs us that we need not
plead our case before God, God is already on our side. “Give us this day, our daily bread,”
(Petition 4) is for Luther a prayer which reminds us that this is indeed what
God has already done. God sends the
rain, scripture tells us, on the just and the unjust. Praying the prayer our Lord taught us is not
an opportunity to ask God for something that we lack, it is an opportunity to
be reminded that God has already provided for us “everything needed for this
life.” When we pray, at the bedside of a
sick child, we ought to be so thoroughly schooled in God’s graciousness that
our prayers are offered with the confidence that God already knows our need. When we speak of “answers” to our prayers,
our repetition of the Lord’s Prayer reminds us that God has already come to
us. God delivers us from the time of trail;
He does not lead us into temptation.
Martin Luther was a monk in the
Augustinian Order. Augustinian piety was
pervasive in the 16th Century Church. This piety allowed, if not directly
encouraged, us to think of ourselves as persons engaged in a constant battle to
please God. In Augustinian piety,
salvation was a promise (for when we died) but it was not yet a reality. One lives their whole life trying to believe,
think, say, and do those things which would lead to a positive verdict when it
was time to determine whether salvation had become effective for us.
Luther spent his youth and young
adult years in mortal fear that when the time came, God would judge him
rightly. Luther knew that where he to be
judged rightly, God would need to acknowledge all his failings and therefore condemn
him to Hell. What a gift it was, to
Luther, when he had the opportunity to study and write on the Lord’s
Prayer. In examining the introduction to
the prayer, Luther was reminded that Jesus instructs his disciples to see God,
not as some fierce and angry judge, but as a loving parent.
Luke opts for the shorter
introduction phrase. He simply refers to
God as “Father.” Matthew has the more familiar, “Our Father in heaven.” Luther understood the power of this
opening. How differently might we pray
to God if, rather than thinking of God as the one who judges us we find it
possible to understand God as a loving parent?
After all, what parent, when asked by a child for an egg will give them
a scorpion instead?
I do believe that it is injurious
to our life of faith when we approach prayer as an opportunity to bargain with
God. Not that I haven’t done it, on
occasion, myself. But it doesn’t
help. Jesus offers this prayer in
response to the Disciples’ request that he teach them to pray. If they could acknowledge a need for instruction,
why shouldn’t we? Amazon has 252,086
titles. You could go home and start
ordering (and reading.) Or, you might
pull out your copy of the catechism, dust it off, and see what happens when you
re-commit to memory the words of a teacher who struggled - but finally made
peace - with the God of our salvation.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment