“Unlocking the Door”
Luke 11:1-13
In the spirit of full disclosure, I will tell you that sometimes I get a little annoyed with Jesus. Sometimes I feel like he’s just not being very helpful.
And this is one of those times.
I read and I study this passage from Luke, and the annoyed part of me thinks: “Really, Jesus?!? In what universe does portraying God as a lazy, not-very-neighborly neighbor who has to be badgered into doing the right thing seem like a good idea?”
I read through the whole thing again, and, by the time I get to the end, the part about both earthly parents and God giving their beloved children what they ask for, I am ready to tear my hair out.
“Really, Jesus?!?” I say again. “Do you really want to make it seem like prayer is all about getting what we want? No wonder so many of us misunderstand prayer!”
And then it occurs to me to read the passage again—slowly and prayerfully this time, asking Spirit to open my heart and mind to whatever word or gift this passage might have for me, and that I might hear that word or receive that gift through particular phrases or specific words.
And that’s when I settle on the middle section of the passage, the part where Jesus says,
And I tell you: Ask and you will receive. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened to you. Everyone who asks, receives. Whoever seeks, finds. To everyone who knocks the door is opened.
There is a part of me that still wants to argue with Jesus—Everyone who asks, receives? Everyone? Really, Jesus? It’s hard not to think of every parent in Gaza praying desperately for food for their children. It’s hard not to think of people I know who are desperate for change in their lives and feel like their prayers are going unanswered.
But then I remember that the primary way God answers prayers is through God’s people. And that another way God answers prayers is through our willing hearts, transformed minds, and Spirit-directed actions. God answers our prayers by changing the way we see and feel and, over time, conforming our hopes and desires to God’s own.
And then I come back to that last sentence:
To everyone who knocks the door is opened.
And then I remember something our dear friend Lucio Perez said about prayer when he was in sanctuary here at our church, living behind doors that were closed and locked to keep him safe from our government, doors that also separated him from his wife, his children, his home, and his freedom to come and go.
It was July of 2019, meaning Lucio had been in sanctuary for almost two years. I had come to the church on my day off to take care of some sanctuary-related business and, as I prepared to leave, I began talking with Lucio about prayer.
“Prayer is the key that opens the door,” said our dear brother, who at that very moment was facing more locked doors in his life than most of us ever will.
La oración es la llave que abre la puerta.
Prayer is the key that opens the door—the door to our hearts, the door to healing, the door to peace, the door to hope, the door to freedom, the door to growth, and the door to transformation. Prayer—in all its many forms—opens doors for us in ways that few other things can, including the door to the Holy, the door to Love, the door to joy.
Friends, if we knew that all good things lay on the other side of a closed door, wouldn’t we sit outside that door, anxiously awaiting its opening? And if we discovered that the door was locked, wouldn’t we gather all our friends and family to help us look for the key? And once we had the key in hand, wouldn’t we want to use it to open The Door to All Good Things?
Wouldn’t we?
Well, as Lucio said, prayer is the key that opens the door.
Now, I understand that many of us don’t see prayer that way. We feel we don’t know how to pray, or we don’t really believe in it, or we think we don’t have enough time to do it, or we feel that, perhaps on more than one occasion, we asked and didn’t receive. We sought and didn’t find. We knocked and the door did not open. And so we’re done with prayer, thank you very much.
I get that.
But I also believe prayer has more to do with changing myself than with convincing God to do what I want. I’ve come to believe that persistence in prayer has less to do with changing God’s mind than with changing my heart. I’m beginning to understand that I find a lot of things when I seek God in prayer, among them peace of mind, an awareness of God-With-Me, a sense of connection with other people and situations, hope, and a clearer sense of how I’m feeling and what I really need and want—and why.
And this is one of the reasons I sit down in front of my laptop most Friday mornings at 10 o’clock to join one, sometimes two, friends from my spiritual direction program. Our cameras and microphones are generally turned off, but we are there together, one friend meditating, another sitting in silence, and me doing some combination of contemplative prayer, intercessory prayer, and meditation. After half an hour, the Zoom call ends and we each go about our days.
It is a simple thing, but I have found that the schedule and the company—even if unseen and unheard—help ground me in an additional life-giving prayer practice. I look forward to the time and come away feeling refreshed, and more connected to the Holy, myself, and other people.
Prayer is powerful—especially when we do it with others.
Prayer changes things—especially us.
Whenever Jesus returned from his prayer time, his disciples noticed something: He was more fully himself. He was more at one with God. He had a certain clarity and authority. He radiated love. He was filled with joy. And he was at peace—despite everything.
The disciples wanted some of that. They wanted all of that. And so they said, “Lord, teach us to pray.”
Notice that while Jesusoffered them a sample prayer, he did not give them a list of how-tos. There are a thousand ways to pray—and prayer is not always the same as saying prayers.
Barbara Brown Taylor says “prayer is waking waking up to the presence of God no matter where I am or what I am doing. It is doing all the things while keeping our attention focused lovingly on God.”
Sometimes it’s as simple as sending God’s blessing to someone when we think of them, or letting the news break our hearts and then taking our pain to God.
The most important thing about prayer is to do it, Jesus said. Ask. Seek. Trust. Keep knocking on heaven’s door. Keep opening your heart to Love.
The right prayer is the one we actually do.
I have a handout on prayer that I put together several years ago, and I’d be happy to email it to you, and . . . it seems to me that the best way to learn to pray is to pray. To talk to God as we would to a friend. To talk with God as we would with someone who loves us and cares for us. To cast our cares on the one who knows our every need.
I don’t pretend to know how prayer “works.” I have seen answers to prayer that I never expected. And I am still waiting for answers to prayers I have prayed a thousand times.
Prayer is about relationship with God. Prayer is about connection. Prayer is about imagination. Prayer is about participating with God in the creation of new possibilities. Prayer is about coming to see ourselves, our situations, and the world through God’s eyes and with God’s love.
Prayer invites us to ask for help, and it gives voice to our hopes and longings. Prayer encourages us to hope, and it validates our longings; Jesus never tells us to dial back our desires. Instead, he encourages us to bring them to the One who loves us more than we can even imagine.
Prayer also makes us more loving, as we become more aware of, and connected to, the needs of others.
To pray is to make ourselves vulnerable. To pray is to acknowledge our need. To pray is to express our wants and hopes, and thus to open ourselves to disappointment. To pray is to live as if we are not alone. To pray is to access Spirit power. To pray is to let go and let God.
I saw a clip of Governor Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania speaking to Stephen Colbert on “The Late Show” the other day. The governor, who is Jewish, talked about how many people had told him they were praying for him and his family after an arsonist set the governor’s mansion on fire.
“I actually could feel their prayers,” Shapiro said. “I felt strengthened by their prayers. . . . Prayer is not only powerful; it is universal. It can lift people up.”
Beloveds, may we make of our lives an unceasing prayer. May we pray as if our prayers will open doors and hearts and possibilities.
The key is in our hands. May we love God, our neighbors, and ourselves enough to use it.
