Give Us

We often hear preachers (and others) invoke the analogy of God as vending machine, an image that is supposed to--and should--repulse us, make us ashamed, give us pause. Our culture is immersed in a gimme mentality. We are spoiled little kids, expecting that we will be given whatever we ask--if we ask often enough and effect the whining attitude most appropriate for the particular situation. Some clergy attack this attitude full force, condemning those of us who indulge in the asking. Others, however, embrace the asking, claiming it as our right (much like a child spending his inheritance before the passing of his parents). These clergy, and their followers, argue that we have the right to expect whatever we want. These folks incur the full ire of those who take the previous attitude, both camps claiming divine right.


We have to ask, though, how can it be so terrible to ask if it is in the prayer we are to model? It is, as in so many other things, a matter of moderation--it is all perspective and degree. We have to remember, this is Christ modeling for us the way we are to pray: this is part of our instruction in how to be Christian--how to be Christ-like. God wants us to ask because asking puts us in our place. We tend to get it all backward (which is one of our more endearing qualities as human beings): asking does not put us in control; asking places us in submission.


Give us, then, is a request--not a demand and not an order. By asking, we are, in essence, admitting that we cannot do it on our own. Asking means that we need God--something we tend to forget in our independence-is-everything culture. We divide things into two categories: those things we think we can do on our own and those things for which we admit we need God. In actuality, there is only one category, for without God we can do nothing, whether we admit it or not.


The Medieval world view had a place for everything and the expectation fo everything to be in its place--they called this idea the Great Chain of Being, a hierarchy of all things: God at the top, followed by the trinal triplicity of angels (three sets of three kinds of angels each, each with its own position and function), which was followed by man, then the animals, then vegetables, and finally minerals. Within each category was its own hierarchy; for example, the animals were ranked from the lion, the most perfect animal to the medieval way of thinking, down to the lowliest animal, the worm. Medieval scholars created elaborate tomes, called bestiaries, listing all the known animals in the proper places.


Even man was divided and listed according to place, with man superior to woman and royalty superior to peasant. I am not suggesting we adopt the medieval mindset of taxonomy for looking at our world, except that God is above (and beyond) all things. God, in the medieval milieu, was seen as superior to all creation, man included. Our culture embraces the idea of equality and egalitarianism to the point of thinking that there are no divisions: children think they are equal with parents, students think they have the same rights as teachers, beginning employees believe they should be paid the same as twenty-year veterans. And some of us--though we might never admit it, even to ourselves--see ourselves on par with God.


We live in a culture in which many authority figures wish to escape the perceived stigma of being the authority figure. Some parents and teachers attempt to establish themselves as friends--non-threatening buddies who can be trusted, who never have to reprimand or discipline anyone about anything, who are fun and hip and cool. These adults evidently believe they are helping the kids in their care. They seem to think that with all parties on the same level, no one will feel bad, everyone will rise to the highest expectations, and we will all live happily ever after. I think they are either too lazy or too insecure to function as they should in their roles. More significantly, though, is that the kids in the care of such so-called adults want what they do not have.

It might be argued that these kids want what they do not have merely because they are kids and they are doing what kids do--rebeling by nature. However, I have taught some of these kids, the ones whose parents treat them as equals or whose teachers in other classes try to be the kids' friends. (I often have to admonish student teachers about not falling into the mire of trying to be the students' friend.) These kids all want to have someone set boundaries, someone to watch over them, someone to be in charge. Perhaps it is only my experience, but it seems that kids have a natural need to have the authority figures in their lives: they need the security and the structure inherent in the traditional parent-child and teacher-student relationships. We, also, have that kind of need. We need God.

Our asking God for things--whether it be bread or shelter or health or guidance--shows that we need God, and God wants it that way. He wants us to need Him. He wants us to ask Him. He wants us to realize our place in His kingdom, and that place is in submission to Him. We might get the things without asking--many people have bread and all kinds of other things without ever asking for them. The point, though, is not the getting; it is the asking. By asking, we are acknowledging God's place in our lives. By asking, we are accepting our place in God's kingdom. By asking, we become more aware of our relationship with God.