This morning’s Gospel reading is Luke 11:1–13:

Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.” He said to them, “When you pray, say: 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 in debt to us, and do not subject us to the final test.”

And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend to whom he goes at midnight and says, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, for a friend of mine has arrived at my house from a journey and I have nothing to offer him,’ and he says in reply from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked and my children and I are already in bed. I cannot get up to give you anything.’ I tell you, if he does not get up to give the visitor the loaves because of their friendship, he will get up to give him whatever he needs because of his persistence.

“And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish? Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg? If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”

Persistence, even as Jesus describes in in our Gospel reading today, is one of the qualities that people struggle to identify with virtue. Too often we experience it as obstinacy, denial, or simple impatience.

For instance, no one believes the child virtuous who persists in asking on long car rides, “Are we there yet?” My father had a pretty good strategy for dealing with that one; he made me “navigator” and taught me how to read how far away we were at any one point. When I turned into a parlor lawyer in my teens, he and Mom had less patience with me, and for good reason.

It’s not just with children and teens that persistence seems more like pestilence than a virtue. We have all known pushy people who won’t take no for an answer in one context or another. At times it seems like an offense to our egalitarian sensibilities, or at the least exploits a perceived or real inequality in the relationship and/or situation.

Why does this person’s need or desire trump my own, or at least why does he think so, we ask ourselves? And why should I validate his “persistence” by giving in? If we do so merely to alleviate the headache of dealing with the person, it inevitably feels unjust, perhaps even a capitulation in the face of bullying.

Thus it seems odd indeed that in the relationship in which the power imbalance is greatest — that between the Father and his children in Creation — Jesus advises us to “persist” in just this manner. It’s counterintuitive in light of that imbalance — but it shows the Father’s love for us, and reveals a deeper purpose and meaning for prayer.

The example Jesus gives in this instruction on prayer probably drew chuckles of recognition and understanding from his audience. If the friend doesn’t succeed on the basis of the personal relationship, he’ll get his way by annoying the other man and depriving him of sleep. No doubt a few or more of the disciples might have had similar experiences with family members and friends. In fact, it’s tough to read that example and not draw the conclusion that Jesus was having fun with his friends in using it.

So what does that mean? In one way, Jesus is emphasizing just how much love the Father has for us. Even if we would be annoying to everyone else (and surely are at times), the Father takes joy in our petitions to Him. The act of asking is a blessing in itself, as it acknowledges in some small way our right relationship with the Father. In bringing our needs and woes to Him, we build that relationship a little at a time, moving us to put the Lord more and more at the center of our lives.

The value of prayer extends well beyond that, however. Jesus makes an extraordinary promise in the second part of this passage. He says that prayers will be answered, because the Lord is a perfect Father who wants to give us all that is good and none of that which is bad. He will do so, Jesus promises, through the gift of the Holy Spirit, who will come to dwell with each of us who opens our heart to Him.

What does that mean? Jesus is talking about the process of formation. Once we begin to pray — and especially when we become persistent in it — we open our hearts to the Holy Spirit, who then transforms our hearts for more effective prayer. Our “hearts,” in theological terms, are the conjunction between our will and our knowledge, the place where our decisions get made. By opening ourselves to formation by the Holy Spirit, we gain knowledge, align our wills to the Lord’s, and thus gain wisdom and happiness by avoiding sinfulness and destruction.

In fact, one can say that the Lord gives us the tools and the knowledge to become “navigators” ourselves on the road to salvation. It’s one thing to sit around demanding to know whether we’re “they’re yet,” and to demand punch and cookies all along the way. By working on our relationship with the Lord through persistence in prayer, we invite the Holy Spirit to form us so that we can pray more effectively for the things that matter — our own salvation, and those of others with us. We can stop merely coming along for the ride and instead work with the Holy Spirit to chart our course. In that way, we can ensure we never get lost — and if we do, that we can find our way back to the road.

That takes persistence, sometimes in the face of crushing disappointments in a fallen world. Jesus promises us here that such persistence will pay off where and when it matters.

The front page image is a detail from “Calling of the Apostles,” a fresco by Domenico Ghirlandio, c. 1481, in the Sistine Chapel. Via Wikimedia Commons.

“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.  For previous Green Room entries, click here.