In our previous post we considered the breadth of Jesus’s “Sermon on the Mount,” recorded in Matthew 5-7. Now we return to the center of the Sermon for a fuller reflection on Matt 6:9ff, often referred to as “The Lord’s Prayer.”
When Jesus, the master teacher, states, “Like this . . .” followed by an instruction, we His followers should take note. And on this occasion He says, “Like this pray then . . .” so we, therefore, take note of Jesus’s specific instruction on how we ought to pray:
Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Our In this archetypal example of Jesus teaching his followers to pray, it is noteworthy that He teaches them to pray communally. This after He has just warned about those religious hypocrites who pray in public in order to be seen by others. He tells us we should pray in secret, and then here He teaches us to pray together. If the teachings seems confusing or contradictory, it serves as a pedagogic device, disorienting us, as we previously noted the Sermon does so often, in order to make clear to us the importance that we do not pray in order to be “spiritual,” nor to draw attention to ourselves, but rather in sincere appeal to the Father. In secret, and with the praying community, we seek not the praise of others but the reward of God.
Father Jesus begins by addressing his prayer to the Father. That this father is God the Father is marked by the reference to heaven, and the subsequent phrase that this Father’s name is “hallowed.” That is, the one whose being is referenced by this name is one to whom we attribute holiness. Our attribution does not make the Father holy, but it affirms that we know the Father is holy. This is, to be sure, a means of making us holy, inasmuch as we live in allegiance to the One who is by nature holy. This father, therefore, isn’t an earthly father, but the heavenly father. And while Jesus himself would have reason to call on the Father as His father, He doesn’t pray, “My father . . .” but rather “our Father.”
Your kingdom come That the first appeal in the prayer regards the kingdom should be no surprise to the reader of Matthew’s Gospel. The kingdom Jesus came to reveal and fulfill is the Father’s kingdom. And for those who tire of overly-complex and opaque definitions of what constitutes that kingdom, Jesus offers what is likely the simplest and clearest description of the kingdom: it is the place where the will of God is done.
That will is done in heaven, and we pray for it to happen here on earth, on God’s earth, which when finally made new, will be the dwelling place of God’s kingdom where God’s will is ever done. But Jesus is not teaching us to ask for such a future estate, but to pray for, and to enact, the will of God today, here, and now. Wherever the ones who pray “Our Father” are, is a place where the kingdom should be erupting on earth. The kingdom should be evident, both among the community who prays “Our Father” as well as in the spheres those followers live out their daily lives.
Our daily bread From lofty notions of heaven and kingdom, we now find ourselves praying for bread. This part of the Lord’s Prayer places on our lips the plea of the beggar. We are not praying for wealthy provisions or great stocks of food. It the “this day” bread that we beg for. It is the ton epiousion bread, the bread needed for one’s existence.
The Greek adjective that describes the bread is a compound word based on the noun ousios, which means “being” or “existence.” (Though it is likely that Jesus taught this prayer in Aramaic, the apostles handed down the teaching and it was recorded in Greek. That in English we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread” indicates that translators have begun to interpret the text for us.) We learn, then, from the apostle’s teaching, that we are to pray each day for that which will sustain us on that day. Just as the Israelites were given manna each day for their sustenance, so are those who are in Christ, the one who passed through waters, wilderness, and temptation on our behalf. And just as the Israelites were warned not to hoard manna – and when they did it became spoiled and maggot-infested – so we are not to exhaust ourselves by building up treasures on this earth. That is antithetical to the kingdom, and Jesus teaches us to pray in a manner that will keep the kingdom and the Father’s will at the center of our existence.
And forgive us Jesus maintains the focus on the dailyness of life by teaching us to pray for forgiveness. The forgiveness he has in mind is double-sided. It involves our appeal for forgiveness from the Father, and it involves our willingness to forgive those who owe us. The term for “debtor” is used to refer to the one who is in obligation to another.
We all are debtors. Beyond the fact that God has endowed His creation with good gifts which I am both incapable of living without and incapable of paying back, I am indebted to God because I am a guilty sinner. It is the wonder of grace that God gives freely to us all, and it is the wonder of the gospel that I, a guilty sinner incapable of paying my debt, is released from that debt by virtue of Christ’s death on my behalf. This simple, great ontological reality forms every aspect of my life. If it doesn’t, my life denies reality (which proves a problematic way to live). One significant way that reality erupts in daily life – perhaps I should say a simple, great way – is in the way I relate to those who are in my debt.
These are great matters, yes, but they are also simple and daily. I doubt a day goes by for any us that we are not sinned against and that we sin against another. Each occasion of sin is an occasion of indebtedness, of obligation. God sent Jesus to release us from such obligation, and the kingdom is a place where indebtedness is dissolved, where our relationship to God and one another exists in the context of love, not in the context of guilt and obligation.
The kingdom comes on earth as it is in heaven, and the Father’s will is done, when Christians forgive promiscuously. Every day we are to release others from their debts, just as freely and lavishly as God has released us. There is to be no holding guilt “over the head” of the one who sinned against us. Instead, just as the Father has forgiven us, and forgives us continually, so we are to forgive. It is a fundamental form of charity, of giving, for the follower of Jesus. Instead of giving enslavement and enmity, we offer release and love. We who have been reconciled to God in Christ become reconcilers ourselves. As St. Paul says, we have been given a “ministry of reconciliation,” and that ministry is carried out in terms of daily forgiveness.
Our debts We must say something else about this forgiveness. Too often when we consider the Lord’s Prayer, we think of forgiveness as something that is mainly, or exclusively, “spiritual.” That is, we view sin as mainly an offense against some spiritual principle, or, more properly, against God, but not often enough do we understand the “earthiness” of our sin.
When Jesus speaks of sin as “debt” he evokes notions that run far and wide in human existence. We know from the teaching of Jesus, for example, that it is a sin to accumulate riches but not help those in need. To give water, food, clothing, and shelter is indicative of the person who loves God and does the Father’s will. How clearly do we perceive our debt to God who graciously gives us abundant provisions, and our resulting debt to those in need, around us and around the world? Our failure to love people in this way, to be sure, is a sin.
Too often the church downplays the significance of such reflection on the Lord’s Prayer and the teachings of Jesus. Too often we interpret Scripture like the Gnostics, defining most everything in terms of spiritual need, when the biblical teaching of the kingdom is so concerned with the earth, with the flesh, and with the here and now. Jesus’s teaching is so very worldly in this sense.
I use the term “worldly” intentionally. The world isn’t bad. It is God’s good creation. And while it is corrupted by sin – human sin, mind you – we see clearly enough in a passage like Romans 8 that Christ’s death brings redemption to the whole world – including the earth and the stuff of creation. That Christ died for the world in this sense should inform our understanding of Scripture such that we have a kind of “holy worldliness” about us. And we should remember, when we look at a passage like the Lord’s Prayer, that our inability to see how God is concerned for the here and now, for the mundane (of the mundus, the world) aspects of our life, is a sign that our exegesis of Scripture sometimes suffers not for being too “worldly,” but for not being “worldly” enough.
Lead us…deliver us As God guides us into the world to meet those worldly needs and to minister reconciliation, we pray that He spare us temptations and deliver us from evil. We know from the Scriptures that we will be tempted. Jesus Himself was tempted – led into the wilderness by the Spirit in order to be tempted. Yet we pray God’s reprieve, knowing all too well our own frailties. And we make our final plea, deliver us from evil, with the full assurance that God’s kingdom will one day come in its fullness, all hunger will be satisfied, all debts finally forgiven, and the tempter bound. On that day, we will be delivered from all evil.
Today as we hear Jesus, and do what He says, with God’s help we live out evil’s defeat ahead of time, as it is in heaven.
Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Our In this archetypal example of Jesus teaching his followers to pray, it is noteworthy that He teaches them to pray communally. This after He has just warned about those religious hypocrites who pray in public in order to be seen by others. He tells us we should pray in secret, and then here He teaches us to pray together. If the teachings seems confusing or contradictory, it serves as a pedagogic device, disorienting us, as we previously noted the Sermon does so often, in order to make clear to us the importance that we do not pray in order to be “spiritual,” nor to draw attention to ourselves, but rather in sincere appeal to the Father. In secret, and with the praying community, we seek not the praise of others but the reward of God.
Father Jesus begins by addressing his prayer to the Father. That this father is God the Father is marked by the reference to heaven, and the subsequent phrase that this Father’s name is “hallowed.” That is, the one whose being is referenced by this name is one to whom we attribute holiness. Our attribution does not make the Father holy, but it affirms that we know the Father is holy. This is, to be sure, a means of making us holy, inasmuch as we live in allegiance to the One who is by nature holy. This father, therefore, isn’t an earthly father, but the heavenly father. And while Jesus himself would have reason to call on the Father as His father, He doesn’t pray, “My father . . .” but rather “our Father.”
Your kingdom come That the first appeal in the prayer regards the kingdom should be no surprise to the reader of Matthew’s Gospel. The kingdom Jesus came to reveal and fulfill is the Father’s kingdom. And for those who tire of overly-complex and opaque definitions of what constitutes that kingdom, Jesus offers what is likely the simplest and clearest description of the kingdom: it is the place where the will of God is done.
That will is done in heaven, and we pray for it to happen here on earth, on God’s earth, which when finally made new, will be the dwelling place of God’s kingdom where God’s will is ever done. But Jesus is not teaching us to ask for such a future estate, but to pray for, and to enact, the will of God today, here, and now. Wherever the ones who pray “Our Father” are, is a place where the kingdom should be erupting on earth. The kingdom should be evident, both among the community who prays “Our Father” as well as in the spheres those followers live out their daily lives.
Our daily bread From lofty notions of heaven and kingdom, we now find ourselves praying for bread. This part of the Lord’s Prayer places on our lips the plea of the beggar. We are not praying for wealthy provisions or great stocks of food. It the “this day” bread that we beg for. It is the ton epiousion bread, the bread needed for one’s existence.
The Greek adjective that describes the bread is a compound word based on the noun ousios, which means “being” or “existence.” (Though it is likely that Jesus taught this prayer in Aramaic, the apostles handed down the teaching and it was recorded in Greek. That in English we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread” indicates that translators have begun to interpret the text for us.) We learn, then, from the apostle’s teaching, that we are to pray each day for that which will sustain us on that day. Just as the Israelites were given manna each day for their sustenance, so are those who are in Christ, the one who passed through waters, wilderness, and temptation on our behalf. And just as the Israelites were warned not to hoard manna – and when they did it became spoiled and maggot-infested – so we are not to exhaust ourselves by building up treasures on this earth. That is antithetical to the kingdom, and Jesus teaches us to pray in a manner that will keep the kingdom and the Father’s will at the center of our existence.
And forgive us Jesus maintains the focus on the dailyness of life by teaching us to pray for forgiveness. The forgiveness he has in mind is double-sided. It involves our appeal for forgiveness from the Father, and it involves our willingness to forgive those who owe us. The term for “debtor” is used to refer to the one who is in obligation to another.
We all are debtors. Beyond the fact that God has endowed His creation with good gifts which I am both incapable of living without and incapable of paying back, I am indebted to God because I am a guilty sinner. It is the wonder of grace that God gives freely to us all, and it is the wonder of the gospel that I, a guilty sinner incapable of paying my debt, is released from that debt by virtue of Christ’s death on my behalf. This simple, great ontological reality forms every aspect of my life. If it doesn’t, my life denies reality (which proves a problematic way to live). One significant way that reality erupts in daily life – perhaps I should say a simple, great way – is in the way I relate to those who are in my debt.
These are great matters, yes, but they are also simple and daily. I doubt a day goes by for any us that we are not sinned against and that we sin against another. Each occasion of sin is an occasion of indebtedness, of obligation. God sent Jesus to release us from such obligation, and the kingdom is a place where indebtedness is dissolved, where our relationship to God and one another exists in the context of love, not in the context of guilt and obligation.
The kingdom comes on earth as it is in heaven, and the Father’s will is done, when Christians forgive promiscuously. Every day we are to release others from their debts, just as freely and lavishly as God has released us. There is to be no holding guilt “over the head” of the one who sinned against us. Instead, just as the Father has forgiven us, and forgives us continually, so we are to forgive. It is a fundamental form of charity, of giving, for the follower of Jesus. Instead of giving enslavement and enmity, we offer release and love. We who have been reconciled to God in Christ become reconcilers ourselves. As St. Paul says, we have been given a “ministry of reconciliation,” and that ministry is carried out in terms of daily forgiveness.
Our debts We must say something else about this forgiveness. Too often when we consider the Lord’s Prayer, we think of forgiveness as something that is mainly, or exclusively, “spiritual.” That is, we view sin as mainly an offense against some spiritual principle, or, more properly, against God, but not often enough do we understand the “earthiness” of our sin.
When Jesus speaks of sin as “debt” he evokes notions that run far and wide in human existence. We know from the teaching of Jesus, for example, that it is a sin to accumulate riches but not help those in need. To give water, food, clothing, and shelter is indicative of the person who loves God and does the Father’s will. How clearly do we perceive our debt to God who graciously gives us abundant provisions, and our resulting debt to those in need, around us and around the world? Our failure to love people in this way, to be sure, is a sin.
Too often the church downplays the significance of such reflection on the Lord’s Prayer and the teachings of Jesus. Too often we interpret Scripture like the Gnostics, defining most everything in terms of spiritual need, when the biblical teaching of the kingdom is so concerned with the earth, with the flesh, and with the here and now. Jesus’s teaching is so very worldly in this sense.
I use the term “worldly” intentionally. The world isn’t bad. It is God’s good creation. And while it is corrupted by sin – human sin, mind you – we see clearly enough in a passage like Romans 8 that Christ’s death brings redemption to the whole world – including the earth and the stuff of creation. That Christ died for the world in this sense should inform our understanding of Scripture such that we have a kind of “holy worldliness” about us. And we should remember, when we look at a passage like the Lord’s Prayer, that our inability to see how God is concerned for the here and now, for the mundane (of the mundus, the world) aspects of our life, is a sign that our exegesis of Scripture sometimes suffers not for being too “worldly,” but for not being “worldly” enough.
Lead us…deliver us As God guides us into the world to meet those worldly needs and to minister reconciliation, we pray that He spare us temptations and deliver us from evil. We know from the Scriptures that we will be tempted. Jesus Himself was tempted – led into the wilderness by the Spirit in order to be tempted. Yet we pray God’s reprieve, knowing all too well our own frailties. And we make our final plea, deliver us from evil, with the full assurance that God’s kingdom will one day come in its fullness, all hunger will be satisfied, all debts finally forgiven, and the tempter bound. On that day, we will be delivered from all evil.
Today as we hear Jesus, and do what He says, with God’s help we live out evil’s defeat ahead of time, as it is in heaven.