Some years ago, a group of Augustinians attended a 'renewal conference'. One of the topics to be explored was 'Trust', 'Who would you trust with your life?' This major topic was distilled down to one image: 'If you had to dangle from a rope over the Cliffs of Moher, who would you trust to hold the rope?' We were asked to break into groups of four to explore this topic further. One particular group consisted entirely of older men, men in their mid-to-late 70s. 'Who would you trust to hold the rope?' was duly put to this group. Each individual was asked to write down a name privately and, when all had finished, to share their 'most trusted person' with the other members of the group. As it happened, three of the men came up with the same person, James Maher (name altered for legal reasons!). This man has 'a name' for prayer and holiness among the rest. He was most faithful to the Divine Office, the Rosary and of course to his daily Mass. He was a man that could be trusted to honour out both his promises and his obligations. His track record and his 'religious credentials' were impeccable. However, one member of the group dissented. When asked to explain why, the 'dissenter' replied: "If the Angelus bell rang, as sure as God Maher would bless himself. Where would that leave me and the rope!"
The story makes two points rather neatly: (1) There is an unbreakable link between trust and prayer. All prayer is grounded in a trust in God. Ultimately, despite all our difficulties, everything is in his hands and he will our good. (2) Prayer and the humanitarian instinct are not in competition. Prayer is grounded in and driven by the needs of humanity and the needs of our world.
The incident in today's first reading is unusual to say the least. Among the unusual things about it is the power of Moses' prayer and the manner in which he expresses it. The arms of it held stolidly aloft and later propped up in perseverance by the 'supports' of Aaron and Hur. When this dramatic incident took place, the Israelites were on their homeward journey from slavery in Egypt. The first people with whom they came in conflict were the vigilant Amelakites (jealous controllers of the region's caravan routes). As long as Moses kept his arms up (like this) the Israelites were bound to be victorious. The unrelenting prayer of the widow proved equally effective in the Gospel. Even an indifferent felt he had no option but to give in! The main point seems to be that if you are persistent in prayer, as Moses was, and as the widow was, God will reward your persistence in the end, It's a point that Our Lord reinforces powerfully in the Gospel of Saint Luke: 'Ask, and it will be given to you' (Lk 11:9). The ones who knock and keep on knocking will have the door opened to them in the end.
My immediate reaction to that, from my own personal experience, is that it's not true. In the course of our lives, I suppose, we have all prayed fairly persistently for all sorts of things that were never granted. We have prayed particularly for the people we loved, that they might be spared an unfair burden of suffering. As far as I could see, these prayers went unheeded. The suffering went on. I've known people in my life who prayed with far greater persistence than I ever did. As far as I could see their prayers weren't answered either. But I have met people who told me that everything she ever asked of Jesus was granted. They are the people I would love to strangle. Their world seemed so cosy and guaranteed! Heavily subsidised from heaven. This just doesn't conform to the everyday experience of the great majority of people.
It may be that a lot of the time we pray for the impossible. We pray that people won't get sick or that they won't die or that there won't be accidents on the roads. Such happenings, however tragic, are in the nature of things. God cannot be held responsible for what happens on the roads, and if none of us was to get sick or die before our time, the pattern we see in nature would have to be completely reversed. In that case, what we'd be praying for is a different world. Even if that is true, when we are not praying for a different world, why is it that God doesn't appear to answer? Why is Our Lord insisting in the Gospel that persistent prayer pays off?
It seems to me - again from my own experience - that there are occasions when it does. People are cured at times, for instance. Otherwise they are all telling lies in places like Lourdes. There are other situations where God's providence seems to be clearly at work. I do believe too that while God doesn't answer every prayer precisely as we want, he does answer persistent prayer in a way that is helpful to us. And the clue to what he does is in the last sentence of today's Gospel: 'If you then, evil as you are, know how to give your children what is good, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!' (Lk 11:13). The Holy Spirit is given to us for three main reasons - as a source of guidance, as a source of resilience and strength, and as a consolation. He comes to bring us through, really. How often have you heard people say that God gave them the strength from somewhere? Our God is not deliberately deaf He tells us himself that he does listen. I think we can take him at his word. The Jesus presented in the gospels is utterly trustworthy. He is not the type of character who would lead us up the garden path. He was utterly honest, at enormous cost to himself. He is the one we could trust to hold the rope over the Cliffs of Moher. I don't know what your prayer is today. There may be something bothering you very much. I know that in a gathering like this there are bound to be people who are troubled. Beneath the surface of celebration or normality in life, you have worry or anxiety or pain. If that's your state of mind, then we pray, in this Mass, especially for you. We pray that the Holy Spirit will bring you two of his greatest gifts - peace of mind and the grace to cope. Our Lord does insist that perseverance pays off, even if in ways that we had not bargained for.
Home