The Sánchez Archives SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME Year C

By
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez

Bold and Daring Prayer

GENESIS 18:20-32
COLOSSIANS 2:12-14
LUKE 11:1-13

In his book, Moments For Mothers (New Leaf Press: 1996), Robert Strand relates the story of a young boy named Benjamin who wrote a prayer-letter to God to ask for a baby sister. “Dear God, I’ve been a very good boy. . .” and then stopped, thinking that God might not be convinced by his claim. Taking a new sheet of paper, he began again, “Dear God, most of the time, I’ve been good. . .” Again he stopped, dissatisfied that his plea was not sufficiently moving. After a few thoughtful moments, the young boy got a towel from the linen closet and laid it carefully on a chair in the living room. Then he went to the mantle over the fireplace and very slowly lifted down the statue of Mary. He had often seen his mother carefully dust the statue and knew it to be a special family heirloom. Very gently, Benjamin placed the Madonna in the middle of the towel, carefully folding over the edges. Then, after he secured the towel with rubber bands, he carried his parcel back to his desk, took another piece of paper and made his third attempt at a letter. . . “Dear God, if you ever want to see your mother again. . .” Strand entitled his amusing story “Irreverent Manipulation;” however, given today’s readings from Genesis and Luke, it is feasible that Benjamin was being neither irreverent or manipulative. Perhaps his child’s heart already knew that he could be bold and daring in his prayer because he knew himself to be loved by a bold and daring God.

Abraham approached God with a similar boldness and daring. His was not an irreverent attitude but one of familiarity borne of a comfortable and trusting friendship. Abraham’s God had been shown to be loyal, generous, understanding, kind, patient and willing to endure human weakness and frailty. Therefore, Abraham was not afraid to broach and even bend the limits of propriety. Bargaining, in what sounded like an auction in reverse, Abraham pleaded the case of Sodom, whittling down to few the number of innocents that might cause God to spare the city. He did not manipulate God but was absolute in his reliance on God’s mercy and magnanimity. He could pray so convincingly because he was so convinced of the God to whom he prayed.

Jesus, in today’s Lucan gospel, counsels believers to pray to God with the same boldness, daring, familiarity and conviction as did Abraham. Like the friend who importuned another in the middle of the night, Jesus’ disciples are not to be hesitant in their approach; nor are they to doubt that whatever they ask or seek from God, will be granted. In fact, the followers of Jesus are to pray with a boldness and a daring that surpasses that of Abraham because we have been blessed with the privilege of praying to God as our Parent. This blessing assures us each and all, of a loving and a caring that surpasses any human counterpart. As Louis Evely (We Dare To Say Our Father, St. Paul Press, Bombay: 1964) explained, to be a parent is an initiative of love; it is to give oneself, to love another before they love you, when they do not yet love you, when they do not yet exist. To love another as a parent is to make theirs the most powerful, the most imperious of all calls. But human parental love, no matter how devoted, altruistic or prodigal, pales before the love of our Parent-God. This, Jesus affirmed when he said, “How much more will the heavenly Father give. . .!”

Given the example of Abraham and the teaching of Jesus as offered in today’s readings, each member of the gathered assembly might give some consideration to the quality, style and attitude of their own attempts at prayer. If Abraham seems too bold and daring then perhaps we are not sufficiently at ease and familiar with God. If his manner appears irreverent, then perhaps we are not completely convinced of God’s desire to become personally involved and available to each of us. If the behavior of the importunate friend at midnight arouses a sympathetic annoyance in us for the one so inconvenienced, then perhaps we have yet to believe in the doting, patient and parental love of God. Only in so believing can we truly pray as Jesus taught and as we ought.

GENESIS 18:20-32

In his classic study, The Idea of the Holy (Oxford University Press, London: 1923), the German theologian, Rudolf Otto (1869-1937) described the encounter between God and the believer as mysterium tremendum et fascinans. The awareness of the mystery of the transcendent, all holy God stirs a creature-feeling in the human heart and a sense of religious awe somewhat akin to a faith-filled fear. Despite the impulse to recoil in dread from what is perceived as so wholly other, the believer is nevertheless drawn toward the divine, whose very being fascinates and attracts. In the exchange between God and Abraham over the fate of Sodom, both elements of what Otto called the numinous experience are present.

Abraham recognized his finitude and human unworthiness before the just judge of all the world (v. 25); his admission, “I am but dust and ashes”, affirmed his self awareness. With the same breath, however, Abraham declared that, despite the fact that he existed in polar opposition to God, he presumed to speak to God. Walter Russell Bowie (“The Book of Genesis”, The Interpreter’s Bible, Abingdon Press, Nashville: 1952) explained that Abraham “did not think too largely of himself, neither did he believe too little.” He was not overconfident; nor was he cowardly because he knew (in the biblical sense) that his dust and ashes had been: (1) breathed into existence by the very breath of God (Genesis 2:7); (2) called to become a covenantal partner of God (15:1-18), and (3) blessed with the divine promise of land, progeny protection and prosperity (12:1-3). Later, Abraham’s descendants would refer to him by the title “Friend of God” (2 Chronicles 20:7; Isaiah 41:8; James 2:23); it was in that capacity that he audaciously pleaded the cause of Sodom.

Today’s reading is a sequel to last Sunday’s first reading; herein the Genesis author tells his readers where the Lord and the two angel messengers went after their extravagant meal with Abraham, viz., Sodom. Whatever the sin of Sodom, its reputation has survived the centuries such that the mere mention of the name of the ancient city speaks volumes about human depravity. However, this text is less an exposé on sin than it is an exploration of the issue of justice, and in particular divine justice. As Reginald Fuller (Preaching the Sunday Lectionary, The Liturgical Press, Collegeville, MN: 1974) has explained, Abraham is the mouthpiece of the conviction that, as a God of justice, Yahweh would not destroy Sodom if it also meant the destruction of a few innocent people along with the guilty majority. The sacred worth of the individual is upheld; even for the sake of a few, God promised mercy. As the story of Sodom is played out in the next chapter of Genesis, the wickedness of the city is thrown into even sharper relief. In the end, the city was destroyed for the lack of even a few innocent people.

Today, both Abraham and Sodom teach contemporary believers valuable lessons. Abraham was so attuned to the character of God that he knew that a sweeping and general judgment of Sodom to be unjust. Walter Russell Bowie (op. cit.) noted that Abraham knew that what was highest in his own heart was his clue to the right nature of God. That which to his own conscience seemed lifted above all doubt must be divine in origin and authority. Sodom, with its legendary depravity warns those who struggle to remain innocent of the contagiousness of sin. Those who tolerate the evils perpetrated in human society and who refuse to protest against them by word and example leave themselves prey to be swallowed up by them.

COLOSSIANS 2:12-14

Soon after king Tamatoe of Huahine (one of the South Sea Islands) became a Christian in 1818 C.E., he discovered a plot against his life. Some of his people, disgruntled at his conversion, were going to seize him along with the other converts to Christ and burn them to death. Tamatoe organized his allies, captured his opponents and confined them. Fully expecting to be executed for their crime, the plotters were amazed when they were led forth from their cells to a feast that the king had prepared for them. So poignant was this signal of their king’s forgiveness that many were drawn to join him in the faith. In today’s second reading, the author of Colossians offers his readers similarly poignant signals of God’s forgiveness for sinners.

Before being buried with Christ in baptism, humankind was dead in sin. But because of the forgiveness God has extended to sinners in Christ, all who believe are raised to life. The power of God to pardon sin and to breathe new life into the dead is so absolute that the ancient author described it in terms of canceling a bond or charge-list (v. 14). The Greek word for bond or charge-list is cheirographon. A hapax legomenon (a word that appears only once in scripture), this term was used in extra-biblical writings to refer to an autograph and/or, more technically, to a hand-written bond of debt or a promissory note. Some scholars have interpreted this bond or I.O U. as the obligation to the law prior to the coming of Jesus. Most, however, understand the bond as humankind’s guilt and indebtedness to death because of sin. This debt, says the Colossians author was cancelled or wiped out by God.

Another graphic Greek term (pun!) exaleiphein (to wipe out) referred to a practice common among scribes in the ancient world. Because both papyrus (paper made from the pith of the papyrus or bulrush) and vellum (or parchment, made from the dried skins of animals) were quite costly, and because ink in the ancient world contained no acid (a property that makes it indelible), thrifty scribes would reuse paper by exaleiphein or wiping off the old ink and applying new. By using this special term, the author of Colossians assured his readers that their sins were literally wiped out or erased from the mind and memory of God. Therefore they should no longer be haunted by them or suffer any anguish.

With yet another poignant signal of God’s forgiveness, our brother in Christ explained that the claims against sinners have been snatched up and nailed to the cross (v. 14). What more vivid assurance could be offered than the knowledge that our sins have been crucified, i.e. put to death, through the saving sacrifice of Jesus. As William Barclay (“Colossians,” The Daily Study Bible, The St. Andrew Press, Edinburgh: 1975) explained, these vivid pictures (or signals?) declare the total adequacy of the work of Christ. Sin is forgiven and evil is conquered. For the benefit of his readers who had a penchant for esoteric philosophies, the ancient author was affirming the fact that there is nothing that gnostic secrets and gnostic intermediaries can do for them. Christ has done it all already. To look elsewhere for salvation is futile; to continue to allow the burden of guilt to weigh upon them is senseless. Forgiven and freed, even of the memory of sin, believers are to live a new life, in company with Christ.

LUKE 11:1-13

During the latter half of the twentieth century C.E., scholarly debate has intensified regarding the Lord’s Prayer. Was it primarily an eschatological prayer geared toward future blessings or did Jesus intend to teach an existential prayer focused on present realities and needs? As Leon Morris (Luke, Intervarsity Press, Leicester, England: 1988) has pointed out, those who characterize Jesus’ prayer as eschatological, regard “your kingdom come” as the central petition and the others as elaborating aspects of the coming kingdom. This view asks God to hallow the divine name by the final destruction of all enemies, then looks for: the bread of the messianic banquet; the forgiveness God will give on judgment day; and the deliverance from the final time of trial. Those who favor an existential application of the Lord’s prayer understand it as a request for God’s help with the exigencies of daily life. Morris is correct in his assessment that there is no reason for holding the eschatological view to be sufficient unto itself, however, believers who realize that they could be living in the “last days”, should combine both meanings in their prayer.

To that end, Jesus instructed his contemporaries as well as his future disciples to pray with bold and daring familiarity, calling on God with the same trusting confidence with which a child beseeches a parent, “Abba!” In this author’s opinion, the fact that Abba is the diminutive for Father can never be over-emphasized. Jesus taught his own to call upon the Wholly, Holy Transcendent Creator and Author of the Universe as “Daddy” or “Papa.” If every believer truly understood and appreciated this privilege gift of intimacy, could prayer very again be reduced to formalism or could it be uttered in fear?

After establishing an ambiance of loving relatedness, Jesus directed his followers to pray, “hallowed be your name, your kingdom come.” Referring to these as the two “You Petitions,” John P. Meier (A Marginal Jew, Vol. II, Mentor Message and Miracles, Doubleday, New York: 1994) has explained that the two ideas of the name of God’s being hallowed or sanctified and the kingdom or reign of God being established are also joined together in the ancient Jewish prayer known as the Qaddish. Therein God is petitioned to bring about a definitive manifestation of power and glory in the lives of the people by sanctifying the divine name in time and space. Like the Qaddish, Jesus’ prayer recognizes God’s absolute holiness and implicitly expresses the obligation that those who call upon the all holy God are thereby called to be holy (Leviticus 11:45; John 17:17-19).

From the acknowledgement of the all powerful and holy God flows the awareness of self as needy and dependent (give us each day our daily bread), sinful (forgive us our sins), and weak (subject us not to the trial). However, this acknowledgement also makes a claim on the believer to offer to others the same generous mercy he/she has been shown by God (for we too forgive all who do us wrong).

The remaining verses of today’s gospel offer an illustration of Jesus’ teaching on prayer. Through the parable of the importunate friend at midnight, Jesus’ followers are to learn, by way of contrast, that God will not be irritated by our requests or unwilling to meet them with generosity. Drawn directly from the experience of his contemporaries, Jesus’ parable, no doubt, evoked a sympathetic response, in his listeners who had probably been similarly importuned by a friend. People often traveled by night on the ancient world to avoid the scorching heat of the day, therefore a midnight arrival was not unusual. Nor would it have been unusual to request bread from an already sleeping friend; the demands of hospitality required that the traveler’s needs be graciously met, no matter what the hour. The neighbor’s complaint that he and his family were in bed implied that all would be disturbed if he did as his friend requested. Most Palestinian homes were simple one-roomed dwellings in which the whole family slept. Nevertheless, and despite the disturbance to his family, the man came to the aid of his friend because of his anaideia or persistence; the literal translation of anaideia is shamelessness!

With the assurance that God is greater than every human need, more powerful than any inconvenience and more loving than can be imagined. . . “how much more will God give. . .” (v. 13), the Lucan Jesus encourages believers to ask, seek and knock, without doubt or hesitation and, like Abraham (first reading) and the importunate friend (gospel), with utter shamelessness!

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