By Lindsey Smith, Indigenous Missionary Lead
Ask, Seek, Knock – Matthew 7:7-11
I think if we were honest with ourselves, we would acknowledge that there have been times in all of our lives when we have approached the promises of God like a vending machine. We look at our options, contemplate what we want, and finally decide we’ll select the item behind the combination C3. We put in the formula, hit the select button, and wait for that weird corkscrew thing to work its magic.
I think that is how many of us, myself included, have found ourselves approaching Matthew 7:7–11. We ask, we seek, and we knock—hoping that God will deliver the things we long for and growing impatient when that is not the result we receive. Maybe we find ourselves in the midst of an extended wait. Maybe we realize that the door we knocked on opened to something we really didn’t want—instead of Skittles we ended up with peanut M&Ms—or worse Swedish Fish (you can fight me on this later).
Perhaps the problem isn’t that the machine is malfunctioning, but rather our culture has led us to overfixate on inputs and outputs. The problem is that Jesus was never handing us a vending code or a pattern to follow to achieve our desired results. The words of Matthew 7:7 aren’t a formula for getting things. They are an invitation to a table, to a relationship with a Father who knows and loves His children.
That’s where the original language helps us. When Jesus says “ask, seek, knock,” the verbs are present imperatives—keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking. But what’s really interesting is that He says them in the plural form: you all keep asking, seeking, knocking. Yes, Jesus was speaking to a crowd, but it is worth noticing, especially for those of us steeped in cultures that value individual pursuit over community. The goal of Jesus’ teaching—Kingdom living and Kingdom building—was never meant to be an individualized pursuit. There is power in a community of believers who are collectively asking, seeking and knocking with a unified desire to see the King of the Universe take dominion over this broken world.
There’s also a relational quality built into what Jesus is sharing here. As I read this passage I consider the way that a simple relationship is formed. We begin by asking questions, desiring to know more of this person who we have met. Or, we, like a child who trusts that their Father cares enough to listen, make requests fitting of His ability to answer. We then seek, not just with words but with our lives turned toward Him. Like two people desiring to know one another more thoroughly, we pursue deeper understanding, knowing that relationship thrives as we share more of ourselves and learn from each other. Finally, we find ourselves knocking, staying at the threshold until the door opens. No one knocks on a door just to say they got inside; we knock because we expect to be welcomed into fellowship with the one who lives there.
Jesus anchors all of this in the goodness of the Father. He explains that even flawed parents know how to give what is good and not bait their kids with a stone when they askfor bread or a snake when they ask for fish. How much more, He says, will your Father in heaven give what is truly good? Luke’s version makes it plain: the best gift is not a thing at all, but the Holy Spirit—God’s very presence with us.
This perspective wrecks our vending machine paradigm because this is the furthest thing from a one-sided, formulaic transaction. It is a table of communion to be shared with the Lord and with the rest of those whom He has made in His image. What Jesus is teaching us is not how to get better at getting what we want, but how to draw closer to the Giver Himself. Asking, seeking, and knocking are meant to be the progression through which we pursue a deeper relationship with the King, so that we might receive more of Him as the collective citizens of the Kingdom that will endure forever.
For more information and to support Lindsey click here.