St. Luke 11:1-13
July 28, 2019
Proper 12C
Dear Saints of Our Savior~
Prayer is the theme of the day. Abraham prayed for sinful Sodom and Gomorrah. Jesus taught His disciples to pray by giving them the very words and petitions they might use—what we call the “Lord’s Prayer.” And then Jesus told a simple parable on prayer—a parable
But lurking behind whatever pious platitudes we might offer concerning prayer is this inconvenient truth: Prayer isn’t natural. Prayer is basic to the Christian life. Prayer is fundamental and foundational. Prayer is pleasing to God and beneficial for all His children. But prayer isn’t natural. Natural-born sinners simply don’t know how to pray. We can’t pray any more “naturally” than we can just naturally speak Portuguese.
We must be taught to pray. That was the conclusion reached by Jesus’ own disciples in today’s holy gospel. The human beings who were closest to Jesus—the men who listened to the Lord’s preaching and teaching on a daily basis—AND who overheard the Savior’s prayers just as often—they quickly recognized how little they knew about prayer—that praying properly was a mystery to them: Lord, teach us to pray as John taught his disciples. If prayer left Jesus’ own disciples scratching their heads, then how much more so must we admit that it doesn’t come naturally for us? We, too, must be taught to pray.
Prayer isn’t an exclusively Christian activity. Pagans and other religions have their so-called “prayers,” as well. Even though, in the end, prayers offered up apart from faith in Jesus are kind of like those North Korean missiles that get launched every so often, only to fall right back down to earth. And because so many people have hopped on the prayer bandwagon, it’s led to a lot of misinformation about prayer—that God hears and answers prayers based upon the level of sincerity or eloquence or emotion. But that’s not why God hears and answers prayer.
Jesus delivers a brief prayer parable to explain what is at the heart of prayer: “Which of you who has a friend,” Jesus asks, “will go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves [of bread], for a friend of mine has just arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’” Meanwhile, from the other side of the door he hears this: “Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed. I cannot get up and give you anything!”
Now, from what you’ve heard so far, which of these two neighbors is normal, and which one is nuts? Which man seems reasonable and rational, and which one is really pushing the limits on normal neighborly behavior? Now, maybe I’m just getting old, but I totally sympathize with the man who’s in bed at midnight (which is where you’re supposed to be at midnight). Who goes knocking on a neighbor’s door at midnight for three loaves of bread? In Whitefish Bay that kind of behavior leads to your invitation to the neighborhood block party getting “lost in the mail.”
But Whitefish Bay culture and the culture of the Middle East are very different. To Middle Eastern ears, the crazy scoundrel of the parable isn’t the midnight-knocker, but the lazy bread-hoarder. The rules of hospitality in that culture meant that you had to provide your guests with food and drink and shelter regardless of what time they arrived. They weren’t just your guests, but guests of the entire village—which is why it was a perfectly sane and rational thing to knock on a neighbor’s door at midnight. The bad guy in the parable is, unfortunately for me, the one who’s too lazy to get out of bed and share his bread.
In this parable it’s the one who is asking, seeking, and knocking who ends up being the “hero” of the story. And they key to this heroic quest for bread is found in one word: impudence. I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence he will rise and give him whatever he needs. What is impudence, you ask? The lexicon says: a lack of sensitivity to what is proper, carelessness about the good opinion of others, ignoring common convention, disregard for proper decorum, and shamelessness. Prayer is always an act of shamelessness.
And you can’t have shamelessness apart from faith. Faith and shamelessness go together. Faith and shamelessness find perfect expression in the prayers that you pray. It takes faith to believe, first of all, that there is a God on the receiving end of your prayers. And it also requires a rather high degree of shamelessness to assume that this God has time and energy to hear and respond to our little issues (like three loaves of bread at midnight).
This is such a peculiar parable! Jesus wants you to see yourself as the shameless neighbor who knocks at midnight. And Jesus depicts His Father as the grumpy old man who, at first, won’t get out of his warm bed to help a neighbor in need. I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence (shamelessness), he will rise and give him whatever he needs. God will give you whatever you need—not because He likes you as a friend—but because of the sheer shamelessness of your faith—faith that knocks at midnight, faith that cares not about the opinion of others, faith that lacks sensitivity to what is proper, faith that ignores common convention, faith that sets aside all decorum and protocol, faith that shamelessly goes to the Father, in the name of the Son, in the power of the Spirit.
But be warned: Satan will do all he can to stop it. The devil exploits every angle possible to silence your prayers and to destroy your faith. And one of his most effective techniques for silencing the prayers of sinners is to say, “Shame—shame on you. Who do you think you are? With a track record of transgressions like yours, you’d best keep quiet. Unfold your hands. Get up off your knees. Shut your mouth. Your requests don’t have a leg to stand on. You deserve nothing from God except silence. Don’t ask. Don’t seek. Don’t knock. Don’t waste your time,” declares the evil one.
When that voice threatens to shut you up, remember the man in this little prayer parable—the impudent man, the shameless man who would not be silent. For in Jesus Christ, you are that man. Jesus Christ has taken away your shame and guilt. Your sin and shame were heaped upon Jesus. For your sin and shame He was crucified, died, and was buried. And you were buried with Him, in baptism. And you who were dead in trespasses, God made alive together with Jesus. He has forgiven every trespass—cancelling the record of your debt. In baptism, you have been joined to Jesus. And, joined to Jesus, you can live and breathe in freedom and forgiveness—with no shame and no guilt. As it says in the Psalms: Those who look to him are radiant, their faces are never covered with shame.
You can shamelessly open your mouth every day and every hour in prayer. You can find mercy; just ask. You can find help; just seek. You can find peace; just knock. When it’s midnight and you’re not asleep because some grief or some burden has robbed you of peace, there’s a neighbor who will hear you and help you. Or when it’s noon and you are sinking beneath a load of stress at work or school, there’s a neighbor—there’s a friend—who will hear you and help you. And when the doctor’s news is dire and the test results are all bad—there’s a neighbor—a friend—who will hear you and help you. What a neighbor—what a friend—we have in Jesus. Every time we conclude our prayers “in Jesus’ name,” it’s like saying, “That Jesus, yeah, He’s a friend of mine. In fact, we’re family.” Go ahead and shamelessly drop His name in every prayer you offer.
So what are we waiting for? Let’s keep on asking, seeking, and knocking. Jesus Himself joins with you in your praying. With Jesus you never knock alone. In Jesus you can present your requests to God without shame or guilt. In Jesus you have a friend—all your sins and griefs to bear. What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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