I won’t go any farther with this line as I dealt with it a great deal in .
Jesus deftly put his listeners, who were frustrated with the times God hadn’t lived up to their initial take on ask, seek and knock, in the role of the authority that would need to occasionally restrain themselves from giving something that they might love to give, but cannot.
In doing so, he made a strong point.
Last Christmas, all three of our kids asked for cell phones. All three. AT&T loves us.
When they made that request, Tracy and I started to consider it. We asked ourselves if getting them the phones violated the values we try to live by, we asked ourselves (and them) why they were asking for them. Were they chasing status at their school? Would these be gifts that they would appreciate six months down the road? Had they demonstrated they could handle the responsibility of a small, fairly expensive piece of electronics? Could we afford them? What else was going on in their lives that spoke into this issue? What plan would we get? Which phones don’t need data plans? We asked the kids if they would be willing to have the cost of the phone and the monthly added line fee deducted from their Christmas money. We asked the poor AT&T store reps about 1,000 questions as well.
Do you know one question that never came up even once?
Did we love the kids enough to get them the phones. Didn’t even get broached.
And not because we didn’t think to talk about it. We didn’t have to. It was self–evident.
We would give our kids our phones if they needed them in a second, we would give them our arms as well. Love, commitment, dedication to their good is not the point. We would do anything for them. Except something that our greater knowledge pool determined would harm them or violate an important standard we hold. And it was love for each of them that guided us to get two of the three phones and the third something else. The third was thrilled with the decision, by the way!  🙂
I think that is the genius of Jesus’ shifting the question. He knew that doing so would remind the people that askers and  askees have different questions.  That when you love someone and have been entrusted with the task of leading them, no simple request is ever a simple request.
Not because you don’t love them, but because you do.
So, when people ask me what I think they should do with the Matt 7 and Luke 11 verses, I say, do it! Ask, seek and knock. And know.
Know that you are loved. That you are cherished. That you are heard and cared for. And that in those occasions when God’s larger knowledge pool prevents him from doing what you ask, he is likely more saddened by that than you are.
Unless you ask for a Hokie win. There is no good reason that those wouldn’t happen, right?
Peace, Jim
