The Unauthorized Homily

By Bill Dunn

A commentary on the Scripture readings from the Sunday Lectionary

(Scripture readings for Sunday, October 21st: Exodus 17:8-13; 2 Timothy 3:14-4:2; Luke 18:1-8)

PERSISTENT, PESTERING PRAYER

If there’s one thing all people of faith can agree on, it’s the importance of prayer. Throughout the pages of Scripture we are commanded to pray, and to pray a lot. For example, in this week’s gospel reading, the first sentence is: “Jesus told his disciples a parable about the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary.”

I hate to admit it, but I often struggle with prayer. I try to pray on a daily basis. Sometimes it’s rote recitation (my Catholic upbringing taking over). Sometimes it’s an unscripted, spontaneous attempt to share my thoughts and feelings with the Lord. Rarely does prayer come easily for me. When I’m finished praying, I usually feel much better—not because I’ve just been in communion with the Creator of the Universe, but rather because it’s over. Now I can get on to watching the Red Sox game, or whatever, without feeling guilty that I haven’t prayed in a while.

To be honest, I often view prayer as a necessary chore instead of what it ought to be: an exciting opportunity.

There’s an interesting scene in the movie “Shadowlands,” the story of C.S. Lewis’ life. In the scene, Lewis, played by Anthony Hopkins, was praying fervently for his wife, who was dying of cancer. When he finished praying, one of Lewis’ friends commented that surely God would hear his prayer and heal his sick wife. Lewis then offered a surprising reply. He said, “I don’t pray to change God. I pray that God might change me.”

I’m not even sure this exchange took place in real life; it might have been a dramatic addition to the movie script. But I certainly can relate to the sentiments expressed by Lewis’ statement, which are: don’t bother asking God to conform to your will, ask Him instead to give you the strength to conform to His will.

This is a fatalistic view. I don’t use the word “fatalistic” meaning deadly or pessimistic. I just mean inevitable. The events of the future are inevitable. So the idea is, don’t waste your time trying to change the events of the future. Try to change yourself so you can deal with them better.

This way of thinking is rooted in the knowledge that God is outside of time, with a little Calvinistic pre-destination thrown in. God already knows every detail of our entire lives—past, present, and future. It’s all part of His grand plan. So if we pray to God and ask Him to do something that is not part of the grand plan, we’re just banging our heads against the wall. God is not going to change; we’re going to get our hopes up unnecessarily; and eventually we’ll be disappointed.

Therefore, our prayer time could be put to much better use if, instead of asking for specific things that we want, we simply ask for the grace and power needed to accept what’s going to happen anyway. After all, it’s one of the key statements in the Lord’s Prayer: “Thy will be done.”

Of course, this isn’t a bad view of prayer. Often our desires and longings, rooted in our selfish pride and sinful nature, are not even close to being in line with God’s will. God knows precisely what we need—we only think we know what we need. How many times have you thought, “Boy, if I actually got what I prayed for back when I was, say, 20 years old, I’d be dead by now”?

When I have friends and loved ones who are ill, I pray for them. But I find myself less often praying for them to be healed, and more often praying that they and their families receive the grace and courage to deal with what is destined to happen. It’s not that I don’t think God is capable of working miracles; I guess it’s that I generally think whatever is going to happen is going to happen.

In this week’s Gospel reading, Jesus told the parable of the persistent widow. Day and night this widow went to the local judge and demanded, “Render a decision for me against my adversary.” Because of her persistence the judge finally relented and granted her request.

Jesus summarized the parable by asking a couple of rhetorical questions: “Will not God then [grant the requests] of his chosen ones who call out to him day and night? Will he be slow to answer them?”

This week’s gospel reading shows that there is more to prayer than just “Thy will be done,” and asking for the strength to deal with whatever is destined to happen. That kind of prayer is good, certainly, but it’s not the only kind of prayer. Jesus tells us that we also should ask God—persistently—for specific requests.

Does this mean our prayers can change God’s mind and alter the future, and that certain events are not necessarily carved in stone and destined to happen?

I recently read a commentary on this parable by Fr. Jude Winkler, who writes: “Do we change God’s mind when we pray? A better way of describing the power of our prayer is that God trusts us so much that he invites us to join him in the decision-making process. It is not that God decides everything—or that we do. It is a union of the two (for God has called us to be his friends who assist him in his work for recreating this world in his image).”

As amazing as it may seem, especially to a fatalistic, semi-Calvinist like me, Jesus is teaching us this week that the future is not necessarily carved in stone. Our persistent prayers can unite our will with God’s will and alter the outcome of certain situations.

So the gospel reading this week tells me clearly that my prayer life is incomplete. (Maybe that’s why I find it such a struggle at times.) My usual approach to prayer, the C.S. Lewis “I don’t pray to change God, I pray that God might change me” approach, has its place—especially since I need to change…a lot.

But God is our loving Father. And He wants to give us good gifts; He wants to grant our requests. Jesus practically challenges us this week to pester God with our prayers and petitions. I think I’ll give it a try.

©2007