Why pray? Homily for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Homily for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C). Translation of a homily, originally given in Italian in October 2019.

Why pray? Because the other team’s fans are praying, and we don’t want to give them any advantage? Because God seems a little indecisive, and maybe he needs our good advice? Because to get what we want, it helps to have powerful friends?

Unless we walked into church this morning by mistake, each of us believes that prayer is important in some way. In fact, we may feel that it is necessary. Maybe we can’t explain it, but we need prayer. Maybe we’ve learned from experience, maybe from hard experience, how necessary prayer is.

A few years ago, I was working in a parish on an Indian reservation in South Dakota, a very poor area of the country with many problems associated with drugs and alcoholism. One of our parishioners, a big Lakota man, was a rancher–a cowboy–by profession. He was also very faithful and present in the church. And he told the story that, when he was young, he almost destroyed his life with alcohol. He went to prison, lost his job, his family, everything, before he quit and began the process of recovery with Alcoholics Anonymous. Once, in the parish, we made a short video with testimonials from parishioners with the aim of inviting non-practicing Catholics to return to Church. One Sunday, after Mass, we recorded this video in the church, and I interviewed this man. “Why do you pray?” I asked him. And he replied, “If I didn’t pray, I wouldn’t be here.”

Then he started to laugh and looked around and said, “Here, yes, obviously in church, but…”

And, of course, what he was saying was clear: “If I didn’t pray, I wouldn’t exist anymore. If I didn’t pray, I would be dead.” He learned from experience that prayer has the power to change lives.

The first reading affirms the power of intercessory prayer. The Israelites do not defeat Amalek because of their strategy or their strength. They triumph because Moses prays to the Lord for them, and when he stops praying, when he lets his hands fall, Amalek prevails. The Lord’s intervention is decisive, and Moses has the power to call down that intervention through prayer–hope that Moses is rooting for your team.

But perhaps this reading seems a little simplistic. It is a symbolic scene—Amalek is a symbol of evil—and perhaps we have other practical questions about prayer: Why doesn’t God seem to have answered my prayer, at least in the way I wanted? Or simply, how do I pray? People often come to me with doubts about prayer: Am I praying the right way? Should I be doing something different? Is there a formula for getting what I want?

If you want a formula, I don’t have one. Because prayer is fundamentally communication with God. The unique core of Christianity, what separates the Christian faith from any other religion, from Islam or Greco-Roman paganism, is that we believe God wants our friendship.

But friendship is not such a simple thing. It requires a lot from us—time, honesty, respect, communication. This communication with God is called prayer.

And how should we talk to God? First of all, with sincerity. Sincerity in prayer is definitely part of Jesus’ teaching in the somewhat puzzling parable we read today. The widow says what she wants. And she says it again. And again. And again.

Every now and then someone comes to me and says, “I’m afraid to pray because I’m angry with God.” It happens. In every relationship. In a marriage. Between parents and children. It happens. I always respond, “But do you think he doesn’t know? Tell him! Talk to God and tell him you’re angry with him. You won’t hurt him. Despite your anger, he will still be God.” If you read the prophets, you will find examples of prayers that come from every human emotion—anger, joy, sadness, fear, gratitude, wonder. And from this long and often confusing history, a surprising fact emerges: that God wants to be with us in everything. In joy and in suffering. Even in suffering, because it is in those moments that true friendship becomes stronger.

Remember well the example of prayer we have from Jesus. In the Garden of Gethsemane, he did not hide his emotions; he did not try to put on a beautiful but false face. He prayed sincerely: “I don’t want this. I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want to die. Father, if it is possible, take this cup away from me.” And perhaps this sincere prayer gave him the strength to say, “Not my will, Father, but yours be done.”

When we pray, we often receive what we ask for because the Lord’s generosity knows no bounds. It has happened to me. God works miracles. But God is not a vending machine where you insert money, choose the flavor, and automatically receive your beverage. God is free. He has his own plans. His wisdom is not our wisdom. He gives us–and others–the gift of free will, and that means there will inevitably be times when we say “no” and God says “yes.” But that too is part of friendship. Our prayers cannot coerce God. Attempting to control or manipulate the divine is superstition, not Christianity.

Rereading this passage from the Gospel, a question came to mind. Thinking about my own experiences with prayer, many times I have begun by asking for one thing, saying one thing, but by the end of the prayer my idea has changed 180 degrees. I think that often God’s answer is this: without words, God speaks to us in prayer, and his answer changes us. And my question is this: in the parable of the widow and the dishonest judge, who are we? At first glance, we think we are like the widow because she makes the request. And Jesus tells us to be like her, to continue in prayer. But in prayer, God also speaks—without ever tiring—and, perhaps, it is he who is asking us, like the dishonest judge, to change.

If God gives us miracles in response to our prayer, even these are secondary–because the first miracle is friendship with God. When you go for a passeggiata, the goal is not to arrive on time at a fixed destination; the goal is to talk with friends, spend time with family, be together. In the end, the fundamental question is not why to pray or how to pray, the fundamental issue is who we are with. We pray to be with him. Jesus tells us to pray always because in the end there is nothing else but being with him—that is everything.

(Original: Italian)

Readings: Ex 17,8-13; 2 Tm 3, 14-4,2; Lk 18,1-8

Madonna di San Luca, Bologna

October, 2019