Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. [Matthew 7:7 (NIV)]
Ask, seek, and knock—three easy instructions. Ask. Ask as if we mean it, as if we truly care about the answer. Ask as if we believe we’re being heard. Ask with the hunger of a beggar begging bread. Ask with the fervor of someone sinking in quicksand pleading for help. Ask with the thirst of a dying man in the desert requesting water. Ask as if our very lives depend on the answer. Ask.
Seek. Seek as if we were searching for something of value—not a cursory look as if we’d lost a button or dropped a paper clip. Seek as we would for a lost wedding ring, wallet, or child. Seek as we would for an exit from a burning building. Seek by adding efforts to our prayers; after all, we can’t ask God for a harvest without first planting the seeds. Seek as if we care, as if our very lives depended on finding it. Seek.
Knock. Knock as if we truly wanted to enter. Knock with confidence—not shyly as if we don’t know whose door we’re at or timidly as if we’re not sure we’re welcome. Knock and keep knocking as if we desperately need the door to be answered, as if our very lives depended on it. Knock.
We have a promise—God’s promise—and we must ask, seek, and knock as if we believe that promise! Where there is a praying heart, He promises we’ll find a listening God—a God who loves us as a father loves a child. Like a good parent, however, no matter how fervently we ask, how diligently we seek nor how hard we knock, He won’t give us stones or snakes or anything bad for us. While there will be no money for drugs when we need rehab, no car when a bicycle will do, no escape from facing consequences, and even no healing when God’s presence in our pain is enough, there will be mercy, peace, grace, patience, wisdom, strength against sin, and understanding. Rather than sell, loan or rent us His gifts, He gives them to us because He loves us! Trust His promise to generously give good things to those who ask, seek, and knock.
Hundreds of years ago, when Las Posadas was first celebrated, people gathered piñon pine branches into square piles to burn small vigil fires called luminaria to light the way for the Peregrinos as they searched for lodging. On Christmas Eve, bonfires were lit along the roads and in the church yard to guide people to midnight mass. Just as Las Posadas moved into the southwestern states as the Spanish and Mexicans came northward, so did the luminaria. When inexpensive flat-bottom paper bags appeared on the Santa Fe Trail in the 1870s, people started folding down the bag tops, anchoring the bag with a few handfuls of sand, and setting a small candle inside. Better than using precious fire wood, these luminaria (also called farolitos) became the popular tradition that continues in the southwest today.
Until learning about Las Posadas, I hadn’t given much thought to the difficulty of Joseph and Mary’s journey to Bethlehem or to how frightened and desperate the couple must have been that night so long ago. As the crow flies, it’s only a 70-mile trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem but Joseph and Mary weren’t crows and the route was not a straight one. Because of the hilly terrain, the most direct route south was the most physically challenging and, because it led right through Samaria, it also was the most dangerous. Wanting nothing to do with Samaritans, Jews typically detoured to the east before going south along the flatlands of the Jordan River, turning west at Jericho, going over the hills surrounding Jerusalem, and on south into Bethlehem—a trip of 90 to 100 miles. The trek from Jericho to Bethlehem would have been the hardest since it was an uphill hike with an elevation change of 3,500 feet! In good circumstances, people could walk about 20 miles a day so Mary and Joseph feasibly could have made Bethlehem in five 8-hour days. Mary, however, was about ready to give birth so a trip of seven to ten days is more likely.
Tomorrow (December 16) is the first day of Las Posadas. Originally a solemn Christmas novena, it was brought to Mexico in 1587 by Spanish priests. Perhaps, because it occurred during the Aztec celebration of the birthday of their pagan god Huitzilopochtli, what began as formal nine-day prayer vigil eventually moved out of the church and into the community where it became a nine-day religious pageant.
In Jesus’ day, Roman law allowed a soldier to compel any able-bodied man in a conquered province to carry the soldier’s gear one mile. A Roman mile was 1,000 paces of five feet each (a little less than our mile) and a soldier’s pack could weigh as much as 100 pounds. In a similar way, Roman soldiers forced Simon of Cyrene to carry the cross of Jesus out of Jerusalem. Such impressment by an occupying army was viewed with outrage by the Jews and yet Jesus told them to willingly carry the load beyond what demanded by the soldier.
When she lived in Florida, my mother-in-law hired a woman to do the cleaning. In spite of representing herself as a “cleaning service,” this woman had a long list of “won’ts”—won’t do windows, mirrors, get on step ladders, move furniture, or bend over to wipe the baseboards, etc. Nevertheless, she always had a long list of complaints and financial needs that she was more than willing to share.
Devotions of the Heart 