Gospel text for Sunday 28 July 2019

2019 07 28  Luke 11:1-13        Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples." He said to them, "When you pray, say:

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."

And he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.' And he answers from within, `Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.' I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Reflection       Tuesday morning as the sun was rising amidst clouds blooming with the hope of rain Mojo, my wee furry friend,  and I embarked on our typical dawn adventure. My role is to listen and chant morning prayer with Mission St. Clare tuned in on my phone. Mojo’s duty is to clear the way of anything that walks, slithers, hops or flies between his pit stops at every vertical edifice. Last Tuesday, however, was distinctive.

A mere two blocks away from home, at the same moment both Mojo and I noticed two mourning doves standing in the middle of the street. Uncharacteristically, rather than leap ahead to chase the feathered creatures, Mojo stopped and silently stared. Which led me to pause morning prayer and join his vigil. It turns out one of the birds was injured and the other spread its wings while seemingly shielding and shuttling the crippled flyer across the street.  Not a single muscle moved between us as Mojo and I witnessed the able feathered friend direct the hurt bird to safety among the low branches of a Texas Ranger bush. It struck me that throughout this safeguarding mission the uninjured bird allowed itself to be vulnerable to the us, potential predators, who were standing just a few yards away.  

Once the birds were safely hidden Mojo resumed walking in the opposite direction. It was quite awhile before I resumed morning prayer because I was absorbed in a reflective reverie. Everything about this moment broadcast holiness. Had I just witnessed empathy among two birds and a dog? Empathy is the awareness of, sensitivity to and ability to share the feelings of another. Is that why Mojo stopped in silence rather than his routine bark and chase response? And, empathy is the root of compassion, or concern for the suffering of others. Is that why the intact bird sheltered the injured bird with its wings and urged it into hiding?

There I was “in a certain place” on an ordinary Tuesday morning, on a run of the mill suburban street when Jesus’ prayer broke in, “Father…  Your kingdom come.” For surely this is it, the kingdom wherein all creatures pause, aware of, sensitive to and sharing the feelings of one another. Surely this is the kingdom come wherein all creatures pause with concern for the suffering of others, even a different species.  

Oh Jesus, teach us how to pray and connect to the sure and certain empathy that is at the root of our very being, a root that we share with all creatures in creation. Jesus, please teach us to pray and stay in relationship with the holy, the holy that we find in a “certain place,” not necessarily a temple or church, not at a particular hour or appointed occasion, just a certain “anyplace,” that will follow us all the days of our life and like an open window allow us a glimpse of holiness in the midst of now. 

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Gospel text for Sunday 24 July 2016

Luke 11:1-13

Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” He said to them, "When you pray, say: 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.” 

And he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.' And he answers from within, `Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.' I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Reflection       If even Jesus is subject to the “time of trial,” (think forty days tempted in the wilderness immediately following his glorious baptismal moment (Luke 4.2)) it might serve us well to acknowledge our own vulnerability to temptation and take Jesus’ prayer to heart, “Do not bring us to the time of trial,” or in Matthew’s version, “but rescue us from the evil one.”

What if we decided to admit, “I am subject to temptation. I am susceptible to trials?” What if in the company of the Apostle Paul we humbly confessed, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate?” (Rom 7:15) A long time ago when married my husband and I had an argument. I was sitting at the far end of the great room. He was on the other side of the room, his back toward me. Sitting there I rehearsed in my mind reasoned words of reconciliation. “This is not who we are. This is not how I want to be with you. Can we remember why we are together? Can we hit reset and do better?” 

Feeling composed with my conciliating words I walked across the room, stood in front of him and out of my mouth blast indictment and condemnation while my inner narrator commented, “I do not want to say this. I am doing what I do not want.” And like Paul I concluded, “I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” (Ro 7.17, 19) 

Have you ever experienced a  disconnect between your mind and your mouth? Have you ever experienced a rupture between your deepest desires and your actions? Welcome to the human condition. This is not because we are bad it is because we are vulnerable.  We are assailable to trials, liable to temptation. This is intrinsic to our human condition, the very same condition to which Jesus was subject. 

What are we to do when we realize we are not in control?  Beat ourself up? Take a drink, a pill or eat to numb the effects? Redouble our efforts to be in control? Or, might we consent to the reality that we are vulnerable and follow Jesus’ counsel, “Pray, saying Father…”  Even Jesus did not rely on himself to control his situation. In all things Jesus turned to his relationship with God.

There is no shame in being subject to the time trial. The inability to be in control is not cause for self recrimination. Apparently Jesus knew this as did the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous when in the late 1930s they identified the first of three of twelve steps toward a transformed life; admitting we are not in control, believing there is a power greater than ourselves that can restore us and and deciding to turn our will toward that power… the power we call God, the God to whom we pray saying, “Our Father…”

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Gospel text for Sunday 28 July 2013

Luke 11:1-13     Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples." He said to them, "When you pray, say:

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."                                                                                                                                                       

And he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.' And he answers from within, `Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.' I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Reflection    Can you imagine the disciples, a motley crew kicking up a cloud of dust, as they return from wherever they were while Jesus visited Martha and Mary and find Jesus “in a certain place” praying? Can you see them, some lying some sitting in the shade of a drooping tree, waiting for Jesus? Can you hear their grovelly conversation? “You never know where you are going to find him. He just wanders off and prays.” “He prays a lot.” “I wonder if he prays the formal prayers and psalms the Levites pray in the Temple?” “I don’t know. He seems spontaneous. Prays whenever he wants, where ever he is.“ “Do you suppose he prays the way John does?” “Why don’t you ask him?” 

We’ll never know which one of the disciples said to Jesus, “Lord teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” We do know several things. Jesus taught the disciples to pray a formal prayer and to directly address God. He understood the relationship between the disciples and God whom they addressed in prayer was profoundly personal, like that of a child and it’s father; a child completely dependent on her father to keep her “from times of trial,” to forgive her missteps and mistakes, to provide for her need in the present moment. There is no more need for the disciple to go on and on telling God what to do and how to do it than there is for a child to tell her father how to provide for her. 

Still, there is more than the external form and repetition of the words (which I have to admit for me sometimes can fly out of my mouth much like my eye blinks in a puff of wind).  Rather than outlining a strict regimen for saying their prayers (such as at the three times each day of Temple sacrifice) or instructing the disciples to pray in designated holy places, Jesus used two allegories or stories to describe the interior state of consciousness the disciples (and we) are to bring to our prayers; bold persistance and innocent receptivity.

We are to be bold in directly addressing God, no less so than calling on a friend at midnight and demanding help. (How would you respond if I called and asked you to bring me a loaf of bread and bottle of wine in the middle of the night?) We are to be persistent in expecting a response, and unshakable in believing that it will be good. (I would only call you if I knew I could count on your goodness and patience). At the same time we are to be innocent as children, honest and guileless, neither offending nor taking offense. (I call and ask without having an expectation for a particular outcome). Because into this state of open-hearted receptivity we receive the greatest gift, God’s own Holy Spirit, and God’s kingdom is come.