Wings to Chew On

Mt 7:7-12

It’s probably rude to try and get into the mind of Jesus, especially studying a set of verses in Matthew that were said by him almost 2,000 years ago. You might imagine Jesus rolling his eyes at such an attempt. “Just listen to my words, you annoying thing, you!”

And yet, I am impudent. I am skeptical. I am woefully cautious about taking the words of scripture at their face value. I need more meat on the bones. I need to tackle the gristle hiding the protein of the scriptures. I need to ingest the verses like buffalo wings dipped in Ranch dressing.

I don’t think Jesus rolls his eyes at our impudence, skepticism and caution. He hands us the meatiest wings, the sharpest knives, and mind-blowing spices. We don’t annoy him. Quite the contrary.

Consequently, I went searching, extremely hungry at this point, for comparisons in other scriptures that would add to or subtract from the following Gospel reading for February 18th:

Ask and it will be given to you;
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. MT 7:7-11

Many of us are skeptical (or, maybe it’s just me) about the rudimentary and formulaic words in Matthew. We would like to put a fence around Jesus’ words about asking and receiving. We tend to introduce checks and balances regarding Jesus’ seemingly over-the-top unbelievable offer.

I find it Interesting that this string of verses, and the scene where Jesus says them, are unique to Matthew. That uniqueness means that we need to look for some other references.

And I found some. Or, rather, Jesus set them up for me.

We have terrific supporting documentation from the gospel by John. John reports two similar statements where Jesus speaks about asking and receiving:

• If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you. By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. JN 15:7-8
  
• And whatever you ask in my name, I will do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it. JN 14:13–14
  

And, there we have it. John has described the underlying condition for qualitative success at asking, seeking, and knocking in Jesus’ direction. The clear exception to getting whatever the dickens we want simply by asking Jesus is described clearly. We must “remain in (Jesus) and (his) words remain in (us).”

Aha! There is a barrier to entry. It’s not all that simple, after all. Who can remain in Jesus but his disciples? How can we maintain the living Word of Jesus within us unless we are his disciples? Discipleship most likely precedes the cornucopia.

Our skepticism, therefore, is satisfied. The simplistic sounding formula has barbed wire. Such expected negative results make skeptics happy. Until we are good little Christian guys and gals we shouldn’t expect to get any old stuff simply by hailing Jesus like a cab. We need to remain in Jesus, which probably takes a lot of focus, and his words must remain in us, which requires a lot of memorization, in order for the formula to work.

And our reward for this discipleship? What do we get by following the formula? We will bear fruit, lots of fruit, and become Jesus’ disciple. Fruit is nice. I like fruit.

The incentive isn’t all that enticing. What about what I ask for? Do I still get that stuff?

Something is still missing here. In essence, Jesus is saying that what we are asking for isn’t really about us, is it? No, it’s about the Father. So, there’s another big piece to this puzzle. Jesus will only do what we ask of him in order to glorify the Father. That sounds OK, as long as I get my stuff. But, there’s a hidden bit in there that clearly points out that the Son, Jesus himself, must get the recognition. That’s not what I was expecting, but as long as I get the yacht, the gold, and the party times … it might work out OK for me.

But, then, something comes along and takes the wind out of the sails on getting that yacht, or finding that pot of gold, or getting into the fancy parties where all the celebrities are. What we want is not what Jesus is talking about at all. Not that he won’t get you those things, mind you. It’s just not really for us. He is talking about us putting his name on the yacht he gives us, and then we probably have to go out and rescue immigrants floating around in the sea, praising God the whole way. He’s talking about taking our financial windfalls and opening up a homeless shelter full of smelly people, and we must name the shelter after the Holy Spirit. He’s talking about preaching to the celebrities we get to meet up with about how short is this part of our eternal existence, that Jesus has some good news about that, and then we probably never get invited back.

So much for visions of wealth, leisure and fame.

Last night, at a a monthly book club that I attend, the insight into Jesus’ very specific formula to our seeking, knocking and asking came from an unexpected reading. The group I meet with is made up of several Catholic men, and we often review Catholic authors from early centuries in Church history. Our readings last night were taken from writings by Meister Eckhart, the 12th and 13th Century theologian and mystic. In our review of different things he wrote we ran across a fascinating quote from one of Eckhart’s sermons:

“Some people want to see God with their eyes as they see a cow, and to love Him as they love a cow — for the milk and cheese and profit it brings them. This is how it is with people who love God for the sake of outward wealth or inward comfort. They do not rightly love God, when they love Him for their own advantage.”

Holy Cow. (In a matter of speaking.) The depth of Matthew's scripture is about love and advantage.

Skepticism isn’t a bad thing when it leads me to hear the voice of a 13th Century Dominican priest who nails the problem I have had with Matthew’s words of Jesus. The nail he drove? Advantage. It’s all about God’s advantage, not ours. The key to understanding Jesus’ mind is in his actual words, not in our self-centered mindset. “So that the Father may be glorified in the Son.” So that we will “bear much fruit and become (Jesus’) disciples.”

If we get anything at all. If we find anything at all. If doors ever open, it’s for God’s glory and Jesus’ edification. That’s not to say that getting, finding and opening aren’t rather awesome in the process. It’s just that the reason we get, find and enter are for our eager witness, and we should ask because we love God.

If life were a tennis match this set of verses in Matthew would be explained as us playing tennis across the net with Jesus, standing proudly in our shorts to a packed house of billions, stacked in stands a thousand times the size of Wimbledon's center court, and many millennia more ancient than the oldest court on earth. We hit the ball back and forth with Jesus, as the vast audience jockeys their heads back and forth in unison, and we arduously, methodically return the tennis ball so that Jesus hits aces over the net, fires impressive serves and whirlwind returns, only possible due to our crafty deference to him. We play so that Jesus can win. And not just win, but achieve unmatched greatness.

“Advantage, Jesus!” the referee (probably Thomas the apostle) shouts out. And God the Father smiles on Jesus from an enormous, high(est) definition Jumbo Tron hanging from the sky. The breath of the Holy Spirit weaves through the crowd in a rippling wave as everyone stands and applauds so loudly that the tennis net frays into pieces of thread. And there we are, standing with our tennis racket at our side as the crowd cheers Jesus. And most important of all, we are grateful to have been invited onto the court with Jesus. We are ecstatic that we had practiced our back hand well enough to keep the ball within Jesus’ easy lob, securing his win. Jesus raises his arms and everyone gets a mint julep and a bowl of ice cream. And with flair, we reach across the net and tell Jesus that he’s the greatest that ever was. We tell him we love him, and we boldly ask, “When can we do this again!”

Somehow, we need to move away from our advantage in prayer, and realize that when the advantage belongs to Jesus all is going as it should be. We don't just listen to Jesus, but chew on the words until we hear what he’s saying. This may take us a lifetime. But, once we hear what Jesus is urgently, consistently telling us, we can grasp and celebrate what it means to love Him, and give Jesus the advantage over ourselves.

Why is it better this way? Why should Jesus, the author of the universe, the center of all human history, be the one who has taught us that to glorify the Father is the point of all creation? Is it because he’s the brother who loved us to his death and secured our eternity with his creation-changing resurrection? Why does it make sense to point to the sky and say thank you when we cut a perfect miter for trim around a window? Why does it make sense when we get the house cleaned 30 minutes before the guests arrive to say, “Thank you, Jesus. I didn’t think we’d make it.”

The answer? God is not a dairy cow.

Who’d have thought that would explain it?