You’re permitted to call on “Our Father, who art in heaven” at all hours of the day and night with whatever you like.
In Luke 11, the disciples of Jesus beckon, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” This request by the disciples seems a bit off. One would’ve thought that, as devout Jews, they already prayed, that prayer was natural to them. But, no, prayer is anything but natural for natural-born sinners. We are born deaf to God’s Word and mute to prayer. Like the disciples, we must be taught. Our only natural prayer is the one they offer here: “Lord, teach us to pray.” And so the Lord does.
Jesus gives the words for prayer. Both Matthew and Luke record it as the Lord’s Prayer; Luke gives the abbreviated version. “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 who is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation.” Name, kingdom, bread, forgiveness, temptation—the basics. Five things we can’t live without. Add God’s will and deliverance from evil and you have the Lord’s Prayer from Matthew.
Taught by the Son of God himself, the Pater Noster is guaranteed to be heard. Jesus knows his Father best. So we can be confident that the “Our Father” is what the Father wants us to pray. All prayer that is Christian prayer starts with the prayer that Christ teaches. There’s nothing uncertain about its origin or content. Nothing tentative. No “if it be your will” in case we’re off the mark. This is the pure and holy prayer of God’s Son taught to God’s children. Consequently, no prayer should give us more confidence.
We think that God hears prayers because of their sincerity, perhaps their eloquence, their religiosity, whatever. But this is wrong. Prayer is a privilege of grace — and as the baptized children of God we stand in that grace on account of Christ. We should, then, be confident about all prayer in Jesus’ name.
So, Jesus tells a parable to that effect. It comes in the form of a question. “Which of you who has a friend will go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, for a friend of mine has arrived on a journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; and he will answer from within, ‘Don’t bother me; the door is shut, the children are asleep, and I can’t get up to give you anything?’” (Luke 11:5-7) Growing up, we had one of the kindest neighbors imaginable. John and Marie were like family to us. We regularly borrowed flour, sugar, dishes, all kinds of stuff. But knocking on their door at midnight would’ve taken “impudence.” The Greek word is ἀναίδεια, used in Luke 11:8. Definitionally, it means: a lack of sensitivity to what is proper; carelessness about the good opinion of others; shamelessness; impertinence; impudence; an ignoring of convention.
That’s an interesting view of prayer! Careless disregard for propriety. Shamelessness. Impertinence. Impudence. Importunity. Ignoring common convention. It takes a healthy dose of impertinence to pound on your neighbor’s door at midnight and expect him a smile and a loaves of bread. And it takes a lot of disregard for propriety to pound on the King of the universe’s door no matter what the time of day or night to chat about less pertinent things than provisions for hospitality.
Our Father in heaven will give because of the impudence of Christ’s faith which he gave you in Holy Baptism
But prayer isn’t merely ignoring convention, it’s an act of faith. First, you must first trust that the living God is on the receiving end. Second, you must trust that God will hear and act graciously. And third, you must trust that you are welcome and possess the privilege to toss off court etiquette and come as you are and when you please.
But Christ makes us heirs with him — equivalent to firstborn sons. We are family. Sons and daughters of God, who made us his own through the blood, merit, and Spirit of Christ Jesus. So nothing is unwelcome, nothing is a trifle when it’s a family affair.
And so it follows: “I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence—i.e., bold faith—he will rise and give him whatever he wants” (vs. 8). Our Father in heaven will give because of the impudence of Christ’s faith which he gave you in Holy Baptism (Gal. 2:16; 3:22). He hears and gives because he has made you family. If knuckleheads will get up due to pestering for snacks, then how much more so will our loving Father give to his own children?
Sometimes prayer feels like pounding on a neighbor’s door at midnight with an outrageous request. But don’t be anxious, Paul says. Pray.
“Ask, and it will be given to you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it will be opened to you.” Those are promises. “Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you” (Ps. 50:15). That is the basis for the boldness and confidence of faith that comes to God in prayer as “dear children coming to their dear Father in heaven.” It’s the childlike boldness of a toddler waking a parent for a request that couldn’t wait until morning.
St. Paul wrote to the Philippians, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7).
Are you anxious? Then pray. Dare to let your requests be known to God. Even when the door seems shut and God seems occupied, bring your prayers before him because he’s there for you. Sometimes prayer feels like pounding on a neighbor’s door at midnight with an outrageous request. But don’t be anxious, Paul says. Pray. Pound on God’s door. Come to his feast of welcome. Speak to him at Mass. There’s a promise for you: The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Prayer isn’t a means to an end, but an end in itself. Prayer is the exercise of trust that God will not ignore you because you are in Christ.
The promise of prayer is peace. Peace that flows from Christ into your baptism, into the gospel word, into the Eucharist meal. True, lasting peace. “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?” (Luke 11:13). The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, and peace (Gal. 5:22).
We give good gifts to our children. We give them what they need, not always what they want. God doesn’t promise to give us whatever we ask, or that we will find whatever we seek, or that every door we pound on will be opened. To be in God’s favor does not mean that God does you favors. He promises that in this exercise of holy faith called prayer you will find peace and God will bless you for Christ’s sake with the Holy Spirit.
Consequently, prayer isn’t a means to an end, but an end in itself. Prayer is the exercise of trust that God will not ignore you because you are in Christ.
We must never forget that our prayers are never heard on their own merits. St. Paul reminds us that we don’t even know how to pray in the first place, but the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with unutterable sighs and groanings. Our words, mediated by the Son, are delivered to the ear of the Father by the Spirit who recasts them according to the will of God. That’s why we don’t always get what we ask. The prayer we pray and the prayer God hears are blessedly different. The Spirit retools our prayer. So pray all the more confidently that we have two divine intercessors: Christ our Sacrificial Lamb who stands evermore before the throne, and the Holy Spirit who ever intercedes for us.
And if that wasn’t enough, the book of Revelation shows us that saints and martyrs in heaven are praying for us, too, praying for the entire Church (Rev. 6:10), and that their prayers—along with those of all the saints—are offered by the twenty-four crowned elders before the throne of God (Rev. 5:8; cf. Ps. 141:2). The Apology to the Augsburg Confession says in Article XXI sections 8-9: “We grant that the angels pray for us. For there is a passage in Zech. 1.12, where the angel prays, ‘O Lord of Hosts, how long will you withhold mercy from Jerusalem?’ To be sure, concerning the saints, we grant that in heaven they pray for the church in general, just as they prayed for the entire Church while living.” Indeed, section 27 even says, “We grant that the Blessed Mary prays for the Church.” It is these prayers that certain angels offer as incense before God (Rev. 8:3-4).
Nevertheless, all prayer, mine, yours—even that of the holy martyrs, heavenly saints, angels and archangels, and the Virgin Mary herself—all prayer goes through the eternal High Priest, that is, through Jesus Christ who is the sole mediator between God and Man (1 Tim. 2:5). When we knock on God’s door at our bedside, dinner table, and Communion Rail, it’s not the Father who comes to the door or table or in the Chalice but Jesus the Son with the Holy Spirit. It’s as if Jesus goes to the Father and says, “Father, You have to answer. It’s one of the family. One that you have made your own through my blood.” This is why the same Article says, “For we know that we must place trust in the intercession of Christ because it alone has God’s promise. We know that the merits of Christ alone are an atoning sacrifice for us.” It is little wonder why, in 1555 due to criticisms arising from the Reformers, even the “Ave Maria” concludes, “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death.” Pray to whom? Pray to the only Savior—Christ Jesus, who alone mediates for God’s family.
You’re one of the family. You are baptized. You’re permitted to call on “Our Father, who art in heaven” at all hours of the day and night with whatever you like. And he will listen because of holy faith that clings to Christ. Jesus hung on a cross so that you might have bold access to the throne of God’s grace (Heb. 4:16). And the Eucharist assures us that a hole to heaven remains torn open through which the Son of God comes to give himself to you and to take your prayers.