Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Andy was turning ten, and he wanted a new bike for his birthday. So he decided to ask God. He took out paper and pencil and wrote a letter to God. “Dear God, I know it’s early, but my birthday is coming up in two months. I really want a new bike. I’m gonna try to be good to my parents and my sister the next two months. I’ll need your help, because I want a bike more than anything else. Love, Andy.” He folded the paper a couple of times, wrote “to God” on the outside and slipped it under the plaster image of the Blessed Mother on his mother’s bedroom dresser. Then he went out to play.
A couple of hours later, he took back his note to God and wrote another. “Dear God, forget the first letter I wrote. I still want a bike for my birthday. I’ll try to be good to my parents and my sister for two whole weeks starting today. Love, Andy.” Again, he slipped the note under the plaster image of Mary and went outside to play.
After a few more minutes, he took back the note he wrote. And taking the image of the Blessed Mother to his room, he carefully wrapped it in newspaper and tied it up with string. He gently laid it in a shoe box and wrapped it in more newspaper and tied it up with more string. This he pushed into a dark corner under his bed. Then he wrote yet another note to God. “Dear God, my birthday is coming up soon and I really want a new bike. You know what to do if you want to see your mother again. Love, Andy.”
He might not know it yet, but Andy will soon learn that God is impervious to blackmail. Sometimes we might feel that God doesn’t hear us unless we do something special or outrageous to grab his attention. If coming to church is not your thing, you might use it to bargain. “God, I went to church. You owe me one.” If prayer and Jesus’ way of life don’t figure in you daily routine, you might try to bribe God like Andy did. “God, if I come to church every Sunday for a month, you have to help me pass the exam, or make the problem disappear, or win the lottery.” Or you might pray longer and louder if you think that’s how God would see the urgency of your need.
Children learn how and when to pray from their parents and grandparents. For some, were it not for the children, it might never cross their mind to pray before meals or before going to bed or even to come to church. Why is it important that our children learn to pray if we ourselves don’t pray or if we don’t know how teach them or if we have lost faith in the power that comes from prayer?
Jesus’ disciples asked him, “Lord, teach us to pray.” It wasn’t Jesus’ idea to teach them. They asked him. In his short time with them, Jesus would often withdraw to a quiet place to pray. And they watched him pray. His example inspired them to want what he had — not simply the words to say, but a deeper attitude and connection with One greater than themselves. Prayer was for Jesus the tangible expression of his relationship with his Father and with all creation. And he decided he would teach his disciples about having the proper attitude and relationship with God like he had.
The prayer Jesus taught his disciples endures to this day. People pray it everyday in every known language and dialect, by every race, nation, and culture. It is the model and pattern for all prayer. It comes directly from Jesus who knew what he was doing, so we strive to imitate his attitude with sincerity and reverence whenever we pray it. Yet we know there is so much we don’t grasp about these words we pray. I believe Jesus wanted us to perceive beyond his words a reality so profoundly simple we don’t even pay attention to it, to acknowledge his relationship with his Father, which was why he prayed. Ultimately, we embrace our own relationship with the Father of Jesus Christ whenever we pray the words Jesus taught us. But the words themselves may not really mean much if we didn’t first have with God that relationship of dependence and trust.
The story of Abraham from the book of Genesis is further proof of this. Whatever was going on in Sodom and Gomorrah that God felt he needed to come down and address it himself is irrelevant right now. Many spiritual writers, scripture scholars, and religious authors have tried forever to connect their alleged crimes with the ensuing catastrophe that wiped them off the face of the earth. But more significant still for our purposes is the back and forth between God and Abraham we read about today. Last Sunday Abraham welcomed three visitors to his tent. He washed their feet and offered them hospitality. In today’s reading, God shares with Abraham the purpose of his journey. And walking alongside him, Abraham spoke his mind and haggled with God. It is an accurate picture of prayer, an acknowledgement of a bond, a close relationship between God and us. Abraham knew God had the final word, yet he was not afraid to speak. He knew that God’s justice was beyond human scrutiny, yet he was not afraid to intercede. He knew his own vision was limited and incomplete, but he trusted in God’s compassion. And by welcoming Abraham’s insights and concerns, God makes known that he feels our anguish and our distress. God hears us when we cry out. God is nearer than we think. And as children do not always get what they want when they plead and moan and whine and sulk, we will not always get what we want when we speak to God in prayer. But when we speak to God, we should speak our mind, we should intercede for others. We have questions. We want answers. But we should also trust that God knows best. I once had a fridge magnet that said: “God always answers our prayers. Sometimes the answer is NO.” And I like to say, sometimes MAYBE or NOT YET.
Whatever our experience of prayer, how we learned to pray, who taught us how to pray, who we imagine it is we pray to when we pray, prayer has got to be so much more than just about the words we say. It has got to be about that intimate connection Jesus had with his Father that he wanted his disciples to have as well. You know how when little kids want to tell you something, they sometimes won’t hear anything you say until they get it all out. And when they’re done, they just walk away and don’t care to hear what you have to say? We do just that to God when we pray and we don’t know how to listen when God speaks, because God is really still a stranger to us.
And we cannot teach our children how to pray by just giving them words to say. We need to show them that we pray, and that we willingly and joyfully keep alive the faith that God nurtures in us each day. Then hopefully as Jesus’ disciples came to him, our children will come to us, to ask us to teach them because they want what we have — a genuine intimate connection with God and an attitude that speaks convincingly of that relationship. And we will need to teach little Andy that God answers our prayers, and sometimes the answer is NO. And sometimes MAYBE. And sometimes NOT YET.
Rolo B Castillo © 2025