Preamble
Although the Lord's Prayer is a fixture of many liturgical traditions, and recited at least weekly, if not far more frequently, both in public services and private devotions, it is rare to hear an exposition of what it means. It is often said before or after the sermon, but not often made the subject of the sermon. In my forty some years of highly diversified church attendance, and in my mother's above eighty years of such attendance, neither of us has ever heard a sermon on the Lord’s Prayer, even though we've recited it week after week, month after month, and year after year. So when, as often happens, the preacher lets me down, I must be my own preacher and preach to myself.
The Lord's Prayer is recorded in two different versions with two different settings (Mt 6:9-13; Lk 11:2-4). Although Matthew sometimes reorders material from a historical to a thematic scheme, there is no reason to attribute the variant form to his editorial activity. Jesus was an itinerate preacher who had frequent occasion to repeat and paraphrase the same message.
The Matthean version, being more expansive and symmetrical, has become the favored form in liturgical usage, and that is the version I'll comment on. The Lord's Prayer is customarily divided into an address, followed by seven petitions. Since, however, I regard v13 as a typical case of Hebraic parallelism, I would divide it evenly into a balanced pair of tricolic petitions.
It is also customary to see the first pair of petitions as more Godward and forward-looking, whereas the second pair are more manward and ephemeral. This enforces spiritual priorities by putting the kingdom of God ahead of immediate need.
In addition, the Lord's Prayer is book-ended between the two key trials in the life of Christ, one at the very beginning of his ministry, and the other at the far end. And in interpreting the Lord's Prayer, I would suggest that it is useful for us to mentally picture this prayer with the temptation of Christ (Mt 4:1-11) in the foreground, and the Garden of Gethsemane in the background (26:36-46).
And the same time, it is the heavenly and endtime dimension that is directing the earthly and ephemeral perspective. So these paired petitions are not in a state of essential or temporary tension.
I. The Fatherhood of God
In what sense may we claim God as our Father? Does this have reference to a universal Fatherhood over all mankind? Could a Muslim pray this prayer as well as a Christian?
In the context of the Gospels and the teaching of Jesus, God is first of all a Father in relation to his one and only Son. What is in view, then, is not a general role for God, but a particular person of the Godhead. Our Father is primarily the Father of Christ, and secondarily of Christians by virtue of their union with their federal head.
We should also note the plural form. Although every individual Christian may pray the Lord's Prayer, this is the prayer of the Church. If God is a Father to us, then that makes us brothers to one another, for our vertical fellowship in turn forms the basis of our horizontal fellowship.
Over against this stands the Sonship of Christ, who prays to the Father in the singular form. Even though Christ is human as well as divine, God is his Father by nature, and ours by adoption (Mt 5:16). We are spiritual sons of God, but Christ is consubstantial with the Godhead.
The idea of divine fatherhood in relation to mankind goes back to the adoption of Israel (Exod 4:22; Deut 1:31; 8:5; 32; Ps 68:5; 103:13; Prov 3:11-12; Isa 1:2-4; 30:1,9; 63:16; 64:8; Jer 3:14,20,22; 31:9,20; Ezk 16; Hos 1:10; 11:1; Mal 2:10).
This was, in turn, applied to the Davidic king--as a Messianic type (2 Sam 7:14; Ps 2:7; 89).
In addition to its caring connotations, fatherhood in the ancient world was a more authoritarian role that is often the case in modern times. For God to be our Father means more than Lordship, but no less than Lordship.
II. Heavenly-Mindedness
In what sense is God in heaven? Is God in one place more than or rather than other? Or, to turn the question around, is God, as a pure spirit, anywhere at all?
To say that God is in heaven means two things in particular, to wit, that God is ordinarily and strictly invisible in time and space. God is invisible in time because God is outside of time. He has no past, present or future, although he is the author of all history—past, present and future. By way of illustration, it does not make much sense to give the number three a date. Numbers, although real, are timeless entities.
God is invisible in space because God is outside of space. Just as he has no temporal divisions, he has no spatial dimensions. By way of illustration, when I dream, my dream doesn’t occupy any space. My dream isn’t measurable in feet and inches. Yet it has its own mode of subsistence.
Thus, God is transcendent. He is not like the idols of the heathen. That is why the Second Commandment forbids a graven image of God (Exod 20:4). For God is not a scaled up version of men.
In Scripture, heaven is a realm of coming and going. It is the realm from which history is guided and governed. It is the realm from which God "comes" in redemption and judgment, in dreams and visions, signs and wonders, theophanies, Christophanies, angelophanies, and especially in the person of his Incarnate Son. And it is the realm where believers go when they die.
Because the unbeliever cannot see above eye-level, he is a stimulus-response organism, scampering through his Skinner-box and bouncing off the walls—like the brute beast (2 Pet 2:12; Jude 10) and the wind-tossed wave (Eph 4:14; Jas 1:6). But a believer, because he is heavenly-minded, can see above the fray. He is not a reactionary creature, blown about by every wind of doctrine—like a fluttering leaf. Rather, he is like a skipper who cannot see the heavenly shore for the sea spray, but has, in Scripture, a map and compass to guide him through the storm to his desired destination.
The earth-bound man is a creature of the moment, trapped in the present. He may plan ahead, but he takes the past and present as his point of reference. The heavenly-minded man is forward-looking and goal-oriented. He takes the future as his point of reference, for God has revealed the Consummation to come.
There is an asymmetry between the spiritually far-sighted man and the near-sighted man. A far-sighted observer takes in the foreground as well as the background. He sees as much as the nearsighted observer, and so much more. But a near-sighted man doesn't see as much as a far-sighted man. And what little he does observe has little meaning without a grasp of the overall pattern and plan.
A man in a twisting ravine cannot tell where or whether it opens out. Is he making any progress, or going in circles? But the man of God has the word of God, and the word of God gives him a God’s eye view of the canyon. He is looking down, and not merely ahead or behind.
III. The Name of God
In Scripture, God's name stands for an attribute in action (Isa 30:27). The name of God signifies the presence of God (e.g., Exod 23:21; Deut 12:5). God hallows his own good name or reputation when he exacts justice on the wicked and delivers the righteous. We hallow his name when we model his character in our own lives (Mt 5:33-37). And we are commissioned to noise his name abroad (Mt 28:19).
IV. The Kingdom of God
If the first petition puts stress on the transcendence of God, the second and third emphasize his immanence. To speak only of his transcendence might leave the false impression that God is remote or indifferent or inert.
By being infinitely distant in essence, God is ubiquitous in agency. The Bible employs a literary metaphor for God’s economic role (Gen 1:3; Pss 33:6; 139:16: Jn 1:1-4; Rev 13:8; 17:8). Because an author exists apart from the space-time framework of his writing, he is the author of the entire writing, unlike the characters whose field of action is bounded by the setting and storyline. And at the Incarnation, the Word above writes himself into the Word below.
The kingdom comes in the person of the coming king. The kingdom of God was present in the person of Christ (Mt 12:28). The kingdom is present wherever the Spirit of God is present.
Yet the kingdom of God has a hidden dimension as well (13:31-33,44; Mk 4:26-29), both because it has a spiritual aspect and also a future aspect. The Spirit of God is imperceptible (Jn 3:3-8). Christ directs his Church from the invisible realm of heaven (Eph 1:20-22). And the kingdom of God will come again in fullness with the Second Coming of Christ (Mt 25; Rev 11:15).
V. The Will of God
In what sense do we implore God to do his will? Classically, theologians draw a distinction between God’s preceptive will and his decretive will. God’s preceptive will is the law of God. God’s decretive will is his foreordinate plan.
On the face of it, it would appear to be beside the point to pray that his decretive will be done, for his decretive will is inexorable. Yet such a prayer is not as otiose as it may seem. For God works his will through various means—including the means of grace, and prayer is a means of grace. Prayer cannot change the will of God, but God wills that we should pray, and prayer is one of the instrumentalities that God has factored into his decree. Things shall happen on account of prayer which would not otherwise have happened. One way in which God wills is change is by willing our prayers.
Having said all that, it isn’t immediately clear why we should pray that God’s decretive will be done, inasmuch as his will is always done. Why the future tense? I’ll return to that question in a moment, but let us turn for now to the other definition.
Unlike the decretive will of God, his preceptive will can be resisted. So it might seem to make more sense if we implore him to enforce his preceptive will. Yet that, too, is somewhat problematic. For as long as unbelievers are unbelievers, they will often flout the law of God. So, short of universalism, which is unscriptural, what is the scope of this petition? To whom does it apply?
Now we need to go back to the future tense. The petition is that God’s will in heaven converge with his will on earth. In heaven, at present, there is no divergence between his decretive will and his perceptive will. In heaven, his decretive and preceptive wills already coincide.
But on earth, they shall only converge at some point in the future. At present, God’s decretive will is done on earth, but not his preceptive will. And yet it is his decretive will that his preceptive will be done on earth, but not at present. God’s preceptive will is enfolded and unfolded in his decretive will, for he wills that his law shall one day rule the earth as it now govern the heavenly realms. So God’s decretive will for the world encloses his preceptive will inasmuch as his law and his decree converge at the Consummation of the church age. That is where history is headed. And we, upon our knees, are agents of history. In our little way we make a big difference, for God multiplies our prayers like so many loaves and fishes.
VI. Our Daily Bread
This petition receives its own exposition a few lines down in what Jesus says about the birds of the air and lilies of the field. At one level, bread and water and protective clothing are the bare minimum of what we need to get by. And unlike some, Jesus is not so monastic and heavenly-minded as to disdain the body and its humble needs.
Yet underlying all this is the providence of God. If we put God first, then these other things will be supplied; if we have the wellspring, then we will have the well water.
And these are more than pretty platitudes. For this petition comes fresh on the heels of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, where ministering angels supplied his need; and that, in turn, recreated the experience of the Israelites, who received their daily manna from heaven.
This is not, of course, an excuse to despise the ordinary means of production and become beggars after the manner of St. Francis. Even before the fall, labor was a creation-mandate, and Jesus supported his mother and half-brothers as a carpenter—even though he could have supplied them by daily miracles instead of manual-labor.
A leading feature of the Lord’s prayer is its spare simplicity. It distills life down to the bare essentials—consisting in six brief petitions. The Lord’s Prayer is not only a model of prayer, but a guide to life. For we should live as we pray, and pray as we live. And so the Lord has given us both an outline of how to pray, and an outline of how to live, for they chart a common course.
Many men and women have tried to simplify their lives and strip things down to the bare essentials. But the trick is in knowing what is essential. For some, it’s a back to nature movement. If we could just get back in touch with the rhythms of the natural world—eat organic food and use biodegradable Tupperware, then that’s what life is all about. For others, it’s all about investing in our social circle. If we put friends and family first and live for the good of others, then that’s what life is all about.
But neither neighbor-love nor nature-love are God-given priorities. Only the author of life can tell us the essence of life. You cannot love your neighbor unless you know how to love your God.
VII. Fatherly Forgiveness
Nothing may seem more obvious to us than the need of God’s remission for our manifold sins and transgressions, but, of course, many unbelievers go through life without any such assumption. Yet they are like the birds of the air who receive the sun and rain with no concernment of their source. Without a second chance, none of us would have a chance. This is why we’re inclined to give a man a break. We cut him some slack because we would like to call in a few favors when we screw up. The forgiveness of God is gratuitous, but our forbearance is more self-serving.
Depending on the presence or absence of grace, sin will either draw you to God or drive you from God. Consider the difference between Saul and David. Both men began well, then fell into sin. The difference is how they dealt with their moral failings.
When Saul was chosen as king, he hid among the baggage (1 Sam 10:22). Here was a man without any worldly ambition. How rare! How refreshing! Our first impression is favorable. We like him all the better for being so bashful and shy of power. Yet once he was broken into the job, his initial reluctance dissipated like a mist and he became insanely jealous of any rivals to the throne. Instead of repenting of sin and reversing course, he continues down that twisting, tampering path until he finds himself wedged in headfirst.
David was also a sinner—in some ways worse than Saul. Saul strikes out in blind desperation—like a rattlesnake writhing in a wildfire, but David is more cunning. Saul is too simple and straightforward to be as devious as David. David, as a complex man, was capable of a quite diabolical duplicity and guile. But as a deceiver, he is incapable of self-deception. And as a child of God, he had an honest self-image. He knew his need of forgiveness—and pulled back before flying over the abyss.
VIII. Brotherly Forgiveness
The best exposition of this petition is provided by our Lord’s parable of the two debtors (18:23-35). If God has saved us from hell, then we can afford to be magnanimous. If we give a condemned man a meal of steak and lobster on the eve of his execution, the least we can do for a hellbound sinner is to offer him the milk of human kindness before his appointment with the brimstone firing squad. Fellow feeling demands no less.
Jesus says that those who live for this life have their reward in this life (6:2,5,16). In the long run, they have everything to lose, and we have everything to gain. So all we need is a modicum of patience, for the poor in spirit receive their reward in heaven (5:12; 6:20), while meek shall inherit the earth (5:5). And this goes to show the practical value of a heavenly frame of mind. It is the same lesson that Asaph had to learn (Ps 73).
Yet the necessity of forgiveness is not absolute. Nowadays, every mother’s son seems to think he knows all about the nature of Christian forgiveness. Even unbelievers, if they know nothing else, suppose they’ve got this much down pat.
Now let's go back to the parable of the two debtors. Who were the parties to this parable? Who was to forgive whom? This is an obligation we must extend to our brothers, but not to unbelievers (18:21,35; par. Lk 17:3-4). The parable is an illustration of church discipline (18:15ff.). And if a professing believer is impenitent, then he is not forgiven, but instead, is shunned and treated as an unbeliever (v17).
There is a difference between forbearance (e.g., 5:43-48) and forgiveness. We show mercy to unbelievers, but forgive fellow believers. We bless our enemies in the hope that God may bless them with faith. By failing to read the Lord’s Prayer as a prayer of the church, addressed to and for disciples within the community of faith, this distinction has been completely lost sight of in the modern church. And the time is long overdue to correct that popular misconception.
Mercy takes many forms, but there is only one form of divine forgiveness. When God forgives, he not only forgives for time, but for all time; he forgives for time and for eternity. There is one and only one remission for both—not one for time and another for all time to come. Remission is a mercy, but every mercy is by no means remission.
IX. Temptation & Deliverance
The last two clauses take the form of antithetical parallelism. In other words, they are two different ways of saying the same thing. The way in which God refrains from leading us into temptation is by delivering us from evil.
And this helps to explain the force of the first clause. As a matter of fact, God does put his people through various trials (e.g., Gen 22; Exod 16:4; 20:20; Deut 8:2,16; 1 Pet 1:7). So the force of the first clause is not absolute. It is not a petition to the effect that God should never expose us to temptation. We pray, not that we be kept from temptation, but through temptation: "preserve us from the power of temptation and keep us in the hour of trial" (e.g., Ps 141:3-4; 1 Cor 10:13; 1 Pet 1:5).
This petition has a couple of concrete illustrations, as sandwiched between the temptation of Christ in the wilderness and his soul’s travail in the garden of Gethsemane. On this very account, the disciples were admonished to pray (26:41, and they failed to persevere because they failed to pray (26:43,45).
Of course, prayer is not a rabbit’s foot. It may please God, in his wise providence, that we should sometimes succumb to sin and emerged suitably chastened by the harrowing experience of our lapse and hallowing experience of his remission (e.g., Pss 32; 51; Lk 22:31-32,54-62).
But we frame our lives according to the Lord's preceptive rather than decretive will. The secret things belong to God, but the revealed things are ours forever that we may do his will and honor his name (Deut 29:29).
