NOTES for Luk 11:9-10

The apostle Paul tells us: now these three remain: faith, hope, and love (1 Cor 13:13), and through his word faith, hope, and love became the most important Christian virtues. People speak often and at length about what faith and love are. But what is hope? "Put not your trust in princes, in sons of men" (Ps 145:3), we sing at every liturgy. This is a kind of apophatic definition of hope. Our hope cannot dwell in the world of passing human relationships. This is sometimes hard to understand and accept, because we are used to hoping in one another; that, it would seem, is our brotherhood. But something else is meant here. Each of us is weak and sinful, and for that reason alone cannot always give another person what he asks for.

But we have another kind of hope, the holy promise that the Lord will always give us what we ask of him. Only one thing is needed: that we have faith, hope, and love. Faith, so that we direct our gaze toward God; hope, so that we have the strength to wait, knock, and seek; love, so that we give the fruits of God's kindness to others. But reasoning this way, one gradually comes to the thought that the division between these three virtues is to a certain extent conditional. Faith is akin to hope, for it is just as strong; hope is akin to love, for it is just as radiant. One without the other is meaningless. And perhaps even corrupt. Think what today's passage about hoping that God will answer would mean if there were no faith and no love. Then we could be called consumers of divine grace, and nothing more.

Today's reading includes two episodes joined by the evangelist into one account. It begins with the disciples' question about prayer, in response to which Jesus offers them, and through them all of us, the "Our Father" (vv. 1-4). Luke, as one can see, focuses chiefly on the importance of asking, and of asking persistently, as a necessary condition for receiving what is asked (vv. 5-13). It would seem that God is not a human being who needs, like a forgetful or unfriendly steward, to be reminded again and again of what is requested. On the other hand, persistence in this case turns out above all to be evidence that a person remembers his request and that it is truly important to him. Indeed, is it worth granting a request that the one who asks forgets the very next day? One can ask this way only for trifles; important requests are those that a person who truly cares about them is ready to repeat again and again, confirming the seriousness of his intentions.

The same seriousness is at issue in the second part of today's passage. The point is not only that the very idea of casting out demons by the power of their ruler was absurd (vv. 17-18, 21-22). The point is also that for those arguing, everything Jesus did was a kind of game, something remotely resembling their own disputes, which were undoubtedly fascinating but, in essence, demanded no commitment. This explains the demand for a sign that would prove Jesus right (vv. 14-16).

The proof had to be theologically correct; it had to correspond to the "right" ideas of the "right" rabbinic school in order to be accepted. And until such proof was presented, anything would do as an explanation of what was happening, including absurd claims about the "prince of demons." But Jesus Himself was not going to play these games, because for Him everything He did was absolutely serious. And He tries to explain to His listeners the full seriousness of what is happening (vv. 24-26). The games are over; what is at stake is a person's spiritual life and spiritual death.

But professional disputants, as one can see, have no concern for that. What matters to them is whether Jesus will manage to outargue them or not. And in their disputes they lose the Kingdom without noticing it. For the Kingdom is not a game; it is serious. And forever.

There is something common to today’s readings from Genesis and the Gospel of Luke. Abraham speaks with his guest (guests?), while understanding that he is speaking with God. This transforms the entire conversation into prayer. Does this prayer achieve its purpose? If the purpose was to intercede for Sodom and Gomorrah, then no! But if its purpose was to deepen the relationship with God, to discern His will and to penetrate the depths of His mercy, then yes, that purpose is achieved! The entire passage from Luke’s Gospel concerns the same thing. What should our prayer be like, and what is its purpose? Jesus’ answer is the prayer “Our Father” and the acquisition of the Holy Spirit.