An Everyday Prayer

An Everyday Prayer

Luke 11.1-13

Lord, Teach Us to Pray

“Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”  With these words, one of Jesus’ closest followers’ requests from his rabbi a model, a manner, and a means of communicating with God. Luke doesn’t disclose the identity of this disciple; it could be anyone, John, James, Simon, Judas… Nor does Luke disclose the concern or desire that moved the disciple to make such a request of Jesus: “Lord, teach us to pray…”

Perhaps this anonymous disciple had observed Jesus at prayer, discreetly hiding to watch over and protect this one whom he had come to love so dearly, yet who remained something of a mystery. One can imagine him gazing in wonder as the lines of worry and stress dissolved from Jesus’ face during prayer; and being moved to awe by the aura of tranquility and contentment that surrounded Jesus as he came forth from his time of meditation. “Teach us to pray in thisway,” he requests, barely able to contain his wonder and excitement.

Or perhaps he was simply curious. He could see from his vantage point that Jesus at times moved his lips; but he was unable to discern any of the words he spoke.  “Lord, give us the words with which to pray…”

Finally, he was perhaps motivated by pride; pride at having been chosen to follow this wandering sage, Jesus of Nazareth.  Many religious groups in his day were distinguished by a unique prayer; a prayer that was theirs alone and, thus, identified them as members of an elite group. John the Baptist may have given his followers such a prayer, and this could have motivated the request from Jesus’ disciple. “We are surely more deserving than John’s disciples,” he asserts, “Give us a prayer that will announce to the world that we are followers of Jesus.”

Luke doesn’t disclose the desire of this disciple’s heart; a desire for a more intimate experience of God, a ritual to recite mechanically, or a badge of distinction to set him apart from his peers. Whatever the desire that motivated his request, however, he must certainly have been surprised, even disappointed at the response he received from Jesus. A prayer, yes; but a simple, humble prayer, lacking in eloquence or sophistication.  “Father, hallowed be your name.  Your kingdom come.” How could this prayer compare to the pomp and circumstance of the Roman emperor cult, where prayers to Caesar were raised to the strains of trumpets and the clash of cymbals.  “Give us each day our daily bread.” Or how could this prayer compare to that of the Pharisee standing on the steps of the Temple, praying with depth of emotion and eloquence, “O God, I thank you that I am not like one of these sinners.”  “…And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.”

This prayer is, indeed, simple and unpretentious. But it would be a mistake to confuse simple with simplistic, and to dismiss this prayer that comes from the lips of Jesus. For there is a sense in which this prayer is like a parable; a simple story that weaves events and characters from everyday life into a profound vision of God’s compassion and love.

There is always more to hear for those who are willing to listen. Consider, for example, the way the prodigal’s father reveals God’s love for us under any circumstances; or the way the Good Samaritan models God’s embrace of all, without limit or restriction.  In a similar manner, Luke’s Jesus uses this simple prayer to express a new and radical vision of God’s kingdom, and to show that it is in our everyday life – our eating and our sinning and our forgiving grudges and debts – it is in our everyday life that God touches us.

Luke doesn’t disclose precisely why the anonymous disciple requests a model prayer from Jesus. But by leaving him nameless, Luke invites us to stand in his place – to become one of Jesus’ closest disciples – and to hear this prayer anew.  Whatever our motive for requesting a model prayer from Jesus, we are invited to hear and share in Jesus’ vision of God’s kingdom.

Your Kingdom Come

In a short yet provocative book entitled The Alphabet of Grace, Frederick Buechner suggests that all the letters of the alphabet – the A’s and B’s and C’s down to the Y’s and Z’s – are the means by which the invisible becomes visible. By this he means that all the intangible qualities in life that we so desire – history, poetry, the wisdom of the philosophers, the holiness of the saints, the grace of God – all the best in life becomes visible through its alphabetic garb; through the words that give it expression.  “H and I and J, and K, L, M, N are the molds that our innermost thoughts must finally be pressed into if we are to share them; O, P, Q, R, S, T, U is the wooden tongue that we must speak if we are ever to make ourselves known, that must be spoken to us if we are ever to know.”

Through the words of the prayer that he offered to his disciples, Jesus gave expression to his vision of God and God’s kingdom. That which is invisible, intangible, always just beyond our reach, becomes visible in the words of this prayer. And just what is the heart of this vision that I have labeled new and radical?  Just this, the request for God’s kingdom not as a political reality or a future, heavenly event sometimes called the second coming, but as a present and abiding reality in our everyday lives.

“Your kingdom come.”  What do you hear in these words?  What vision of God’s kingdom becomes visible in them?  They certainly evoked specific visions at the time of Jesus. Simon the Zealot, for example, would have heard this prayer as a request for God to deliver Israel from the trawls of Roman domination through the Messiah, the Son of David. For Simon, and for all the revolutionaries dedicated to the ouster of Rome from Palestine at any costs, the kingdom of God was a political reality; literally the restoration of the kingdom of David, a free and autonomous Israel.

Because of Zealots such as Simon, it could be dangerous to make such a request – “Your kingdom come” – within earshot of the Romans. For it could be taken as evidence of treasonous attitudes or activities. This almost certainly was the case with Jesus. Although he lived and breathed non-violence and expressed an alternative vision of God’s kingdom, he was arrested, convicted and executed on the mistaken charge of sedition against Rome.

“Your kingdom come.” Others in Jesus’ era, such as John of Patmos who wrote the book of Revelation in the New Testament, would hear in these words reference to the kingdom as a heavenly reality that will come into existence only at the end of all ends when Messiah returns on the clouds to abolish evil and unite all God’s children in peace and fulfillment. This is a powerful image of God’s kingdom that has influenced Christian thought into our day.

There are still many who think of God’s kingdom exclusively as a future reality even if they have given up the warlike images of Armageddon, or supernatural images of a rapture of God’s children. Even though Jesus’ vision did not exclude continuation, even fulfillment in the future, he did not share this futurist image of God’s kingdom.

What, then, could Jesus have meant when he prayed, “Your kingdom come”?  What vision of God’s kingdom did he espouse, if not a political kingdom or a future, heavenly reality? Surprisingly, woven intimately into his teachings on the kingdom of God is the belief that it is breaking into our midst, that it is present among us. Jesus’ teaching on the kingdom of God was not a call to arms for Simon and his friends, or a hope for the distant future such as John’s; rather, Jesus’ teaching on the kingdom of God was a celebration of God’s presence in our midst; the present and abiding reality of wholeness, peace and joy in our lives. “Open your eyes,” Jesus said in his life and in his teaching, “The kingdom of God is within you and without you, it is all around you.” This is why life for Jesus was more feast than fast, more celebration than funeral dirge, more reality than mere hope.

An Everyday Prayer

Jesus’ request for the coming of God’s kingdom as a present reality makes his model prayer an everyday prayer; a promise of God’s presence in your every day and in my every day. All those intangible qualities that we so desire in life – God’s wholeness, peace, courage, hope and joy – all those qualities become realities in the everyday events of our lives through the presence of God.

Certainly, we still experience God’s presence through the brokenness of our world – pain, suffering, illness, faithlessness, betrayal and more – and sometimes we see God only through a veil of tears. But God’s presence in our lives leaves an indelible mark of courage, a mark too deep for any brokenness to reach, and a promise of complete fulfillment in God’s glorious future.

Luke invites each of us to stand in the place of Jesus’ nameless disciple, hear anew the prayer of Jesus, and pray with him for the coming of God’s kingdom in our lives. And in so doing we will experience our every day as holy, and the most mundane events of our lives as sacred. We will find a gracious bounty in God’s nature that provides the bread that is needed for each day; we will taste God’s forgiveness as a source of courage and strength in our lives that will see us through the darkest times; and we will see God’s presence reflected in the eyes of others and so be moved to extend God’s grace to them, forgiving their indebtedness to us.

Such a life made sacred by God’s presence is recounted in a story in which God decided to become visible to a king and a peasant and sent a messenger to inform them of the blessed event. “O king,” the messenger announced, “God has deigned to be revealed to you in whatever manner you wish. In what form do you want God to appear?”

Seated pompously on his throne and surrounded by awestruck subjects, the king royally proclaimed: “How else would I wish to see God, save in majesty and power?  Show God to us in the full glory of power.” God granted his wish and appeared as a bolt of lightning that instantly pulverized the king and his court. Nothing, not even a cinder, remained.

The messenger then manifested herself to a peasant saying: “God deigns to be revealed to you in whatever manner you desire. How do you wish to see God?”  Scratching his head and puzzling a long while, the peasant finally said: “I am a poor man and not worthy to see God face to face. But if it is God’s will to be revealed to me, let it be in those things with which I am familiar.

Let me see God in the earth I plow, the water I drink, and the food I eat. Let me see the presence of God in the faces of my family, neighbors, and – if God deems it good for myself and others – even in my own reflection as well.” God granted the peasant his wish, and he lived a long and meaningful life.