Dear Friends in Christ,
Why should we pray? Today’s Gospel recounts Jesus’ parable about the impatient judge, who was constantly being bothered by a widow pestering him for justice. If that judge will answer the woman’s need just to get rid of her and get some peace, Jesus tells us, will not our heavenly Father answer the prayers we make to him?
Even since the age of Enlightenment in the eighteenth century, 
people of a philosophical bent have questioned the value of prayer, and especially intercessory prayer. It is said, for example, that the German poet Goethe never prayed because he argued that the world was set on its course anyway. Of course, god knows what we are going to ask him in advance of our asking. But the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that God ‘is the Lord of the universe, whose order he established, and which remains wholly subject to him and at this disposal. He is mater of history, governing hearts and events in keeping with his will….’ (para 269). God did not create the world and then leave it to its own devices! He has assured us through the Scriptures that he will change events as a result of our prayers. The world is not just a machine ticking over like a watch. It is more a unity, directed by an infinite mind which we call God. So, we must keep praying, as Paul says, ‘at all times’, that is when things are good and when things are bad.
Of course, prayer can be frustrating. Sometimes our prayers never seem to be answered. But God may be leading us to the virtue of perseverance, in Greek bupomoné, which we might translate as ‘stickability’. Christian faith teaches us the virtue of fidelity even in difficult times. We also have help from others in our prayer. Out reading from Exodus tells us the beautiful story of Moses being helped to pray by Aaron and Hur holding up his arms. The Church has a role in encouraging our prayers, by giving us the right prayer to say, and by giving us pastors and Christian friends who can help us and guide us as we grow in stickability. Don’t give up!
PRAY AS YOU CAN, NOT AS YOU CAN’T
Our understanding of kingship or queenship is very much rooted in the idea of privilege and of ruling our subjects. Jesus, however, bore witness to an altogether different kind of kingship. He is the Servant King. He is the King of the kingdom of love, service and sacrifice. We are his subjects – we swear a loyalty to our King. What is wonderful about the kingdom is that rather than us just serving the King, the King also serves his people. Jesus turned upside down our understanding of what it means to be great, what it means to be regal. We are called to witness to the fruits, gifts and values not of the kingdom of this world but of the kingdom of Christ.
Today it is the Sadducees who confront the Lord. The Sadducees were an elite aristocratic group – a kind of club of socially aspirational and religiously conservative men. They rejected most of the Old Testament, accepting only the Pentateuch (the first five books) as divinely inspired. Unlike the Pharisees, they did not believe in the afterlife, the spirit world or the resurrection of the body.
Typically, the Lord refuses to answer the questions head on. He rather points to the fact that marriage is a human institution which comes to an end with death, ‘till death do us part’. That is not to say that those who are married are not reunited after death – surely they are – but they are united in a different way and in a different relationship before God. Beyond the confines of this world there is no need for marriage because both man and wife are joined together in their love and worship of God – in the same was as the angels are. 
As sinners go, Zacchaeus was a ‘big fish’ or perhaps it would be better to say a ‘big shark’. As a chief tax collector, he was responsible for other tax collectors and no doubt very experienced in the dark art of exploiting and cheating others. There was a real sense of venom and hatred for these traitors – they were seen as the scum of the earth, the lowest of the low. Ironically, the name Zacchaeus means ‘innocent’ or ‘pure’, but there was nothing pure and innocent about him. His wealth was the fruit of a corrupt tax system in which the Jewish tax collectors secured their own piece of the pie by charging a further levy and skimming off for themselves. They were literally getting wealthy on the back of others. 
‘Do you think I came to bring Peace to earth? No, I tell you, but division’. The trust is the name of Jesus divides as much as it unites. There are many in our world who despise the name of Jesus. Indeed, his name is used by many as a word of cursing. Try mentioning Jesus’ name in polite company. Sometimes even in Church circles, to mention the name of Jesus creates a hostile reaction. Why is this? It is because Jesus is God. His is the name above all other names and before him all things, in heaven and on earth, will bow down. Jesus did come to bring peace on earth but this peace was secures through the bloody suffering of his cross. First came division, hatred and violence, and then came the peace that only Jesus the Prince of Peace, can pour out, the peace of Christ in our hearts. 
Astonishingly, today in the gospel Jesus compares himself to a thief who unpredictably burgles a house. In this and other ways, Jesus teaches graphically that he will return, and that his return will always be a surprise. Yet his return must not catch us unawares: ‘Let your loins be girded and your lamps burning.’
Dear Friends in Christ 
God the Father is not like the unwilling neighbour, but is generous, kind and benevolent provider for his children’s needs. We discover who God is more through prayer, than any other spiritual exercise, for it is in prayer that the Spirit woks in us to expand not just our minds but our hearts, our imagination and our horizons.
In a story unique to St. Luke’s Gospel, we read of a remarkable and beautiful incident in Jesus’ life. Mary of Magdalene, whose feast we celebrate tomorrow, is traditionally associated with the Mary before us today but scholars think that it is unlikely to be the same person, believing this woman to be Mary of Bethany. What is clear is that, like Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany loved the Lord. In this account, she did not wash his feet with her weeping or anoint his body with expensive nard but she showed that one thing was needed, and that was to sit at the Master’s feet and learn from him
It is, however, hard not to feel some sympathy for Marth, who in this understanding embodies the apostolic approach, Mary can come across as a kind of ‘goody two shoes’. Martha on the other hand, has not airs and graces; she is a worker and not a shirker. Clearly both women were serving the Lord, but Mary, in Jesus’ own words, chose what is better. This doesn’t mean what Martha was doing in that moment wasn’t good or noble or worthy, or even right for her to be doing; it simply means that ultimately sitting at the Lord’s feet and learning from him who is humble and gentle or heart is the goal of our faith.
Some of the early Fathers of Scripture scholarship, such as Origin, St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, discerned in the parable of the Good Samaritan a much deeper meaning than helping our neighbour. They approached the parable allegorically – in other words, as a device in which the characters or events represents or symbolise real people and real events and communicate a hidden and profound message. Approaching Scriptures allegorically can open up deeper and deeper layers to its meaning. Some theologians dislike this approach because they fear that we can read into the text significance which the original author did not intend. But they themselves often approach Scripture in the wrong way, studying and discussing it like a Shakespeare play or another ancient text. Scripture is the divine Word of God and by its very nature there are always hidden depths to plumb.