O God, protector of those who hope in you,
without whom nothing has firm foundation, nothing is holy,
bestow in abundance your mercy upon us
and grant that, with you as our ruler and guide,
we may use the good things that pass
in such a way as to hold fast even now
to those that ever endure. (Roman Missal)
Father Anton Luli, an Albanian Jesuit who died in 1998, endured an astonishing 42 years either in prison or in labor camps, all because he was a Catholic priest. Seventeen of those 42 years Father Luli spent in solitary confinement. It is difficult to imagine how martyrs like Father Luli can hold onto their faith in the midst of suffering, even as they experience such great loneliness and deprivation, even as they face torture and death.
Our gospel story today can give us the impression that the persistence that Jesus teaches means nothing more than constant prayer, ceaseless asking, seeking, and knocking. But I think that if that is our conclusion, we are incorrect. Persistence in praying is not nearly as important as persistence in believing that our God is good even when things look bad. Persistence in praying is not nearly as important as persistence in believing that God is a loving Father even when snakes and scorpions are everywhere. It is this kind of persistence—a stubborn conviction that God knows what is best for us and somehow, someway, everything will work out in the end—that Jesus wishes for us in those dark moments of fear and loss, in times of sickness, unemployment, failure, and betrayal.
Admittedly, faith in the midst of suffering can be a real struggle. It requires us to put aside our usual ideas about how God works and where God is and see his activity and presence in new and challenging ways. Faith in the midst of suffering requires lots and lots of persistence.