Luke 11:1-13, a play in three acts. After the Samaritan example
of how to love God and love neighbor, and time-out at the feet of Jesus with
Mary and Martha, scene one shows Jesus going to “a certain place” to pray,
after which his disciples (now including Mary and Martha?) ask, “Teach us to
pray.” He gives them specific things for which to pray in what we know as The
Lord’s Prayer – in somewhat different form than the more familiar words reported
by Matthew (6:9-13). The overall intentions, however, remain fundamentally the
same. Scene two is a story about a man visited by a traveler in the middle of
the night who has no bread to offer and in turn wakes up a nearby neighbor to
borrow some bread. Scene three are some sayings which suggest that prayer is
indeed hard work that requires us to ask, search and knock, but work that results
in the gift of knowing and experiencing God’s presence and blessing.
The prayer Jesus offers has several petitions, all of which are
to direct us to the work at hand, which Jesus and his fellow religionists would
call tikkun olam – repair of the world. Then, as now, it does not take much
analysis to determine that the world presently ordered is seriously broken or
fractured. When we pray, and “we” is the operant word as the prayer offered is
a prayer to be from and for the community and the world more than for any individual,
we are to: 1) Respect God’s presence and name; 2) Invite God’s reign, or what
the Bible calls “The Day of the Lord,” and more specifically The Jubilee Year;
3) A return to manna season and bread that is given daily, that time when the
people of God relied on God and one another, not self-reliance; 4) The Forgiveness
of debts and sins (which were understood to be debts unto God); Protection from
“the time of Trial,” which may be persecutions of the community which were well
under way at the time of Luke’s account, and/or protection from judgment on the
coming Day of the Lord (which the Bible construes as potentially both positive
and negative).
It helps to recall that way back in chapter 4, Luke reports
that when Jesus teaches in his hometown synagogue he reads from Isaiah 61, a
description of Israel’s hope for The Day of the Lord in language reminiscent of
Leviticus 25 and the Jubilee year – a year in which the central focus was to be
the return of land to the original families or clans that had been lost to
indebtedness. Think here mortgage foreclosures, farm foreclosures, massive
credit debts, student loans and the like all forgiven so as to provide a
complete reboot to the community economy. In part this is crucial, especially
in Israel where soil and land conditions can vary vastly from one farm to
another since the families that have managed a specific plot best know what is
necessary to make it fruitful – a win-win for the entire community. Jubilee is
viewed as a divine act of mercy and forgiveness, the two most prominent aspects
of God’s own character. We have so domesticated this prayer, and in English
translation further mangled it to protect the very imperial interests it was
originally meant to challenge, that we say it and say it and say it with no
recognition of the radical nature of the prayer Jesus teaches.
Act two: The story of the midnight guest is also hampered by
translation in that the word given as “persistence” more likely should be “shamelessness.”
Jesus lived in a culture of honor and shame, so utterly unlike the world in
which we currently find ourselves. It would be shameful not to have bread to
offer the midnight traveler even if it is the middle of the night. Yet, to
stand outside your neighbor’s house knocking and calling out is to risk further
shame and public embarrassment since you probably are disturbing other’s sleep
as well – Luke, after all, is understood to be addressing an urban community of
Christians. The man’s shameless persistence, however, results in finally
wearing down the reluctant neighbor who grudgingly embodies Jesus’s earlier teaching on radical
neighborliness in the Samaritan story in chapter 10. This story means to ask if
we are willing to set aside our own prestige to persist in providing for others
while praying for things like debt relief, forgiveness of sins, and to repair
the many ways in which the world we inhabit might be repaired to look more like
God’s kingdom than our own?
As Walter Brueggemann observes in his article on “The Day of
the Lord,” for which Jesus teaches us to pray, in his book Reverberations of Faith:
“When we speak and think in conventional religious cadences, this claim for “the
day” may sound routine and conventional. We should, however, notice in this
rhetoric a claim that is always “strange and new” – Israel’s sustained
assertion that the public life of the world is fully answerable to the personal
rule of this God. Such a claim deabsolutizes our human pretensions, all claims
of self-assured superpowers, all of the blind trust in “might makes right,” all
the notions of a manageable moral calculus that orders and controls the world.”
[Bureggemann, p 46]
Finally, act three – our shameless persistence in praying
The Day of the Lord and Jubilee Year into reality demands us to ask, search and
knock – that is, the very act of praying is meant to lead us into actions that
help sustain the virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity – I use the old King James “Charity”
instead of love because it better describes what biblical “love of neighbor” is
all about. And because in popular song, literature, the popular imagination,
and even the hymnody of the Church, any
and all notions of such love as the Lord commands have been diluted to so much
pablum. Love and prayer are by nature hard work, not some warm and fuzz
feeling.
It is Stanley Hauerwas in his seminal volume, A Community of
Character, who insists that, “The Hebrew-Christian tradition helps sustain the
virtue of Hope in a world that rarely shows evidence that such Hope is
justified.” He goes on to say that the ongoing formation of families, alongside
prayer, acts of justice and mercy, and generally living out of the biblical
worldview, “witnesses to our belief that the falseness of this world is finally
bounded by a more profound truth.” [p 174]
The result of such prayer as Jesus commends, and the result
of our shameless persistence in prayer, in asking, in searching, in knocking,
is a profound and very real experience of the Holy Spirit, or what might be
called a deep knowledge and apprehension of the abiding presence and blessing
of God. Such experiences invite us to join Jesus in tikkun olam – repair
of the world.
As an aside, I am sometimes asked, given the falseness of
this world, why I still hold onto faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,
Jesus and Muhammed. Of all the things I might say, in the end it has been the profound,
repeated and surprising presence and blessing of God I have experienced in a
great variety of places, among a great diversity of people; in the unfolding
silence of a sunrise viewed from a mountain top over the Atlantic Ocean; in a
few words of a random poem; playing music with others; and in the care and
comfort received from people I would otherwise never have met or known had I
abandoned the disciplines of the very kind of prayer Jesus offers in this little
three-act play in the eleventh chapter of Luke. As a result of such experiences
I choose to participate in acts that sustain the virtue of Hope despite living
in a world that rarely offers much evidence that such hope is justified. But, “rarely”
still means that the evidence is there for those who choose to see and hear and
experience the power and the glory of the Mercy, Forgiveness and Love of the
living God.