Commentary - Matthew 7:7-11

Bird's-eye view

In this portion of the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord Jesus turns to the subject of prayer, but He does so in a particular way. He is not giving us a systematic theology of prayer, but is rather teaching His disciples how they ought to approach their Father in Heaven. The logic is grounded in the goodness of God as a Father. We are commanded to ask, seek, and knock, and these three commands are stacked on top of one another to emphasize the persistence and confidence with which we are to come before God. The assurance of being heard is not based on our eloquence or the righteousness of our posture, but on the fundamental character of the One to whom we are praying. He is a good Father, and we are His children. Jesus drives this point home with an argument from the lesser to the greater: if even fallen, sinful earthly fathers know how to give good gifts to their children, how much more will our perfect heavenly Father give good things to those who ask Him.

This passage is a profound encouragement to the believer. It invites us into a relationship of dependent intimacy with God. What a person feels free to request is a good indicator of how at home they feel. The Lord wants us to be at home in His house, to come to Him with our needs and desires, confident that He hears and answers. This is not a blank check for our lusts, as James reminds us (James 4:3), but a promise rooted in the covenant relationship we have with God through Christ. When we ask for things that are in line with His will, for "good things," we can be certain of a favorable reply from our Father.


Outline


Context In Matthew

This section on prayer immediately follows the Lord's teaching about judging others and the parable of the speck and the log. It also comes right before the Golden Rule. This placement is significant. Righteous judgment and loving our neighbor as ourselves are high and holy callings, impossible in our own strength. Where are we to get the wisdom and grace to live this way? The answer is that we are to ask our Father for it. The command to ask, seek, and knock is therefore not an isolated exhortation but is embedded in the practical instructions for kingdom life. It is the engine that drives the Christian ethic taught in the Sermon on the Mount. We are called to a supernatural way of life, and so we must rely on a supernatural source of strength, which we access through prayer.


Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 7 “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you."

The Lord here gives us three imperatives, each one a little more intense than the last. Asking is vocal. Seeking adds motion to the asking; you are looking for something. Knocking adds physical effort; you are at a door and want to be let in. This is a picture of earnest, persistent prayer. God is not a reluctant giver who must be worn down by our nagging. Rather, He is a Father who delights to see His children come to Him with confident expectation. This threefold command is designed to build our faith. He is not telling us to do three different things, but to do one thing in three ways: persevere in prayer. The promises attached are direct and certain: it will be given, you will find, it will be opened. This is the bedrock of Christian prayer. We do not pray into the void; we pray to a God who has promised to hear and answer.

v. 8 "For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened."

Jesus now reinforces the promise by stating it as a general principle of the kingdom. This is how things work in my Father's house. The word "everyone" is sweeping and wonderful. This is not a privilege for a spiritual elite, for the apostles only, or for those who have achieved a certain level of holiness. This is for "everyone who asks." The qualification is in the asking, the seeking, the knocking. Of course, this must be understood within the broader context of Scripture. We must ask according to His will (1 John 5:14) and not from selfish motives (James 4:3). But the emphasis here is not on the qualifications of the one asking, but on the guaranteed response from the One being asked. If you are a child of God, and you come to your Father in prayer, He will not turn you away empty-handed. This is a universal truth for all citizens of the kingdom.

v. 9 "Or what man is there among you who, when his son asks for a loaf, will give him a stone?"

Now we come to the argument that clinches the whole matter. Jesus appeals to our own experience, even our fallen experience. He brings it down to the level of a simple family interaction. A son is hungry and asks his father for bread, a basic staple of life. What kind of father, Jesus asks, would respond by mocking his son's hunger with a stone? A stone might have the shape and color of a small loaf of bread, but it is a cruel joke, an anti-gift. The answer to this rhetorical question is obvious: no decent father would do such a thing. Even in our sinfulness, there is a remnant of paternal instinct, a reflection of the ultimate Fatherhood of God. This is an appeal to the created order. Fatherhood means provision, not cruelty.

v. 10 "Or if he asks for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he?"

He presses the argument with a second example, this one with a bit more menace. A son asks for a fish. Will the father give him a snake? A snake, particularly in that part of the world, could be dangerous, venomous. It is not just a useless non-gift like the stone, but a positively harmful thing. Again, the answer is a resounding no. An earthly father's love for his child prevents him from such monstrous behavior. He wants to nourish his son, not poison him. These two illustrations work together to establish a baseline of paternal goodness. This is what we can expect from flawed, human fathers. Now, prepare for the contrast.

v. 11 "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"

This is the glorious crescendo. Jesus uses an a fortiori argument, an argument from the lesser to the greater. He starts with an astonishing premise: "If you then, being evil..." He does not flatter His audience. He looks out at the crowd, at you and me, and states the plain biblical truth about our condition apart from His grace. We are evil. Our motives are mixed, our hearts are corrupt, our best efforts are tainted with sin. And yet, despite this fundamental brokenness, we know how to give good gifts to our children. We can manage that much. The logic is therefore inescapable. If sinful fathers can do good, "how much more" will our perfect Father in heaven do good? The contrast is between our evil and His absolute goodness, our limited resources and His infinite storehouse, our flickering love and His consuming, perfect, and holy love. He is the Father in heaven, the sovereign Lord of all, and He will give "what is good" to those who ask Him. Luke's parallel account says He will give the Holy Spirit (Luke 11:13), which is the ultimate good gift that contains all other good things. When we ask, we can be confident that our Father will not give us a stone or a serpent. He will give us exactly what is good for us, every single time.


Application

The application of this passage is straightforward and profound: pray. Pray with boldness. Pray with persistence. Pray with the confidence of a beloved child who knows his father loves him. We are so often hesitant in our prayers because we are looking at ourselves, at our unworthiness, at the weakness of our faith. But Jesus directs our gaze away from ourselves and onto our Father. Our confidence is not in our asking, but in Him.

Are you at home in your Father's house? Do you feel free to ask? This passage invites us to shed our orphan spirit and embrace our adoption. We are sons and daughters of the King. Therefore, we should come to the throne of grace with confidence. We should ask for our daily bread. We should seek His wisdom. We should knock on the door for opportunities to serve Him. And we should do so knowing that our Father in heaven is infinitely more willing to give good gifts than we are to ask for them.