The lyric, “Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz,” popularized by Janis Joplin, often echoes in our cultural consciousness, a tongue-in-cheek plea for divine favor in the form of earthly possessions. It’s a sentiment that, while delivered with a wink, touches upon a very real and sometimes uncomfortable question for people of faith: Is it okay to ask God for material things? This question, while seemingly simple, delves into the heart of our spiritual desires and the nature of our relationship with the Divine.
We’ve all encountered that friend, perhaps a bit theatrical, who throws books – specifically, religious books – at the wall in frustration. These aren’t just any religious books; they are often texts on prayer that promote what might be termed “outrageously selfish theology.” Books that suggest we need to “direct God’s attention to our greatest needs” or “remind God of our requests to jog His memory” are prime candidates for a forceful toss. This kind of thinking, while perhaps intended to empower believers, often feels shallow and misrepresents the nature of an all-knowing God. The Divine, often referred to as the Ancient of Days, hardly suffers from memory lapses.
However, the core question remains valid: Is it permissible to bring our material desires before God in prayer? On one hand, scripture seems to encourage us to ask, and to ask boldly. The Apostle Paul urges us, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Philippians 4:6). Jesus himself, in the Lord’s Prayer, instructs us to ask, “Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11). These verses seem to provide clear support for bringing our needs, even our material needs, to God.
Yet, complicating this picture is another teaching from Jesus, just verses prior to the Lord’s Prayer. He states, “your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6:8). This raises a significant point: if God already knows our needs, especially our material ones, is it truly necessary, or even spiritually mature, to focus our prayers on them?
The prosperity gospel, a prominent movement in contemporary religious culture, often leans heavily on the scriptures that encourage asking. Its proponents advocate praying for wealth, health, and worldly success, often quoting verses like, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives… Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?” (Luke 11:9-11). These passages are used to suggest that God desires to bless us materially and that we should confidently ask for these blessings.
However, a purely materialistic interpretation of these scriptures misses a crucial depth. While it’s comforting to believe God wants the best for us, like any loving parent, spiritual maturity calls us to a higher aspiration. Discipleship, at its core, is about growing to be more like Jesus, shifting our focus from earthly desires to the things of the Spirit, the Heavenly, the Holy. The prosperity gospel, in its emphasis on material gain, risks missing this transformative journey.
The key oversight of the prosperity gospel lies in the true intention behind Jesus’ words to “Ask… seek… knock.” These commands are not primarily about accumulating possessions, but about pursuing deeper spirituality. Jesus concludes this teaching by saying, “How much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13). The ultimate gift, the highest blessing, is not material wealth, but the Holy Spirit itself.
It’s not that God is indifferent to our needs, including our material ones. Expressing all our needs in prayer is a vital part of our relationship with God. However, as our intimacy with the Divine deepens, a profound shift occurs. We begin to cultivate a trust and contentment that transcends our external circumstances. Our financial status and material possessions become less defining of our well-being. Instead, our yearning grows for spiritual fulfillment, for a closer connection to God’s presence and power in our lives.
Consider the experience of the book-throwing friend. His ministry led him to serve in impoverished communities in Africa, Asia, and among heroin addicts in European recovery houses. These are individuals whose prayers often arose from profound anguish and desperation. They prayed for fundamental needs: release from addiction, reconciliation with fractured relationships, and spiritual reconnection. They prayed for miracles, and in many instances, they experienced answers that defied explanation. God showed up, often in unexpected and supernatural ways.
For many around the world, praying for material things is not a request for luxury, but a plea for basic necessities. A stable job, food for their families, medicine for a sick child – these are prayers born from genuine need, and God certainly desires to hear them.
However, for those of us living in relative stability and affluence, particularly in places like Canada, constantly petitioning God for material things can represent a spiritually stunted perspective. It’s akin to aiming too low on the “Divine scale of blessings.” As we mature spiritually, our prayer focus should elevate. We should seek more of God’s living presence and power to be active in our lives, praying for a connection with the Holy One that unlocks the transformative potential the Divine Spirit envisions for us. This includes the unexpected, the unexplainable, the supernatural.
Let our prayers of asking become a catalyst for a power that surpasses all expectations, a power that erupts from our lives and our communities of faith, transforming individuals and the culture around us. Let our highest and most fervent prayer echo the ancient plea, “Come, Holy Spirit.” Perhaps then, the desire for a Mercedes Benz will pale in comparison to the desire for a deeper, more meaningful connection with the Divine.
