Prayer and Humility

Flik: Do you ever pray for something almost with a little twinkle in your eye, feeling a leeettle bit smug; because you're pretty sure God wants the same thing. Have you ever done a smug prayer for the reformation of sinners, or the health of your children, and thought; God wants this more than I do! 

Maybe just me. 

I was reading a tough bit of Gospel recently: (Matthew 15) 

And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.” He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” And he answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly. 

And I thought, Is Jesus being rude? then I thought, well he would be rude, if it was a case of saying what is polite or saying what is right. And maybe the right thing was for him to follow his vocation, as it was revealed to him, in his human form, at that time, and minister to the Jews. But that did not sit right. 

So then I thought, what if she was being rude? What if crying at Jesus felt aggressive, rude and entitled, it seems that it might have done, at least to His disciples. And I could kind of see how this woman could make that mistake. I mean she's asking him to banish a demon, from a little girl. He would want to do that. We know he would. 

But it still doesn't feel good to finally get to the feet of Jesus - for so many of us, the ultimate place of rest - and have to liken yourself to a dog, begging at table. 

Unless it does feel good. Like if you have been given One Last Chance to learn humility. I don't know what I imagine when I imagine a little girl possessed by a demon (honestly, I try not to think about such things!), but I am pretty sure that this situation would have afforded many opportunities to learn humility along the way. 

Mother Theresa writes that you can read a whole library of books on humility and learn nothing. The challenge is to start receiving humiliations graciously. 

In C.S Lewis's The Great Divorce, the author describes a man at the gates of heaven arguing with the angel that guards them, saying he must keep a lizard on his shoulder and be permitted entry. All the while the little red lizard whispers to him and needles him, but eventually the angel prevails, and the man allows the angel to destroy the lizard of lust for him, and it becomes the most amazing visual expression of sensuousness (which is a gift from God): a stallion. The story ends with the man riding proudly into heaven on his fabulous steed. 

This illustration suggests that it is possible, (I might add, likely, for many of us!) that we take our pet weaknesses even to the gates of heaven, the very feet of Jesus; who is Mercy itself. And then be given a second chance! So in that situation, I think you'd be pretty happy, even about having to liken yourself to a dog. 

All of which is to say, that there are things I want for my children, which I half think they should have already, given that I know God loves them more and better than I do. But I trust absolutely that 'all things work unto good for them that love the Lord.' So in future, I'm going to make a point of asking on behalf of my kids, humbly, and on my knees, preferably in front of the blessed sacrament.