Matthew 6:7-13
“When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
“Pray, then, in this way:
Our Father in heaven,
may your name be revered as holy.
May your kingdom come.
May your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And do not bring us to the time of trial,
but rescue us from the evil one.
“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you,
We begin a new series today called “Asking for a Friend: Real Questions. Honest Faith.” Usually we say Asking for a friend jokingly, when we want to know something for ourselves but might be too shy or embarrassed to ask. Yet, over the past several weeks we have gathered questions that you want answered. We’ve taken those questions, grouped a few, and over the next eight weeks we will answer each of them. In a literal sense, these people have asked their question, not just for themselves but for you too. Because I am certain with each question someone else sitting here or watching will say, I had the same question. You are the “friend” in this series.
And what a gift it is to have thoughtful, honest questions raised about all sorts of faith things: from prayer to evolution, biblical interpretation to politics, heaven and hell, and more. We will do our best not to provide simple, sure answers, but to wrestle openly, honestly, faithfully with the questions raised. A favorite quip in our household comes from a college professor Katelyn and I both had who said, one’s faith is only as strong as their willingness to question it. Hopefully this series will do exactly that; strengthen our faith through the questions we engage.
So to our first question, “what exactly do we mean when we say, ‘thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.’” I love this question for lots of reasons. It is concise and clear, as are all the best questions. It’s one of the rare occurrences when Jesus gives exact words to say. We often get things to do, fewer things to say, and even fewer to pray. So I’d say that it’s worth our study.
And lastly, it is about something so familiar that rarely, if ever, do we stop to ask, what am I, what are we, actually saying? We pray this prayer aloud, together, every Sunday. You probably say it throughout the week. But when was the last time you wondered “ what am I praying for with this prayer?”
But beware, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done” is a dangerous prayer. Dangerous for the world as we know it, and for us.
It’s dangerous for the world because it is, in part, a political prayer. I’m guessing you never thought you were bringing politics into your prayer life every time you said the Lord’s Prayer—but indeed we are. And we can blame Jesus for that. Because in those three little words—thy kingdom come—Jesus is saying an awful lot.
The kingdom on earth in Jesus’ time was Rome. A few wealthy men ruled, including Herod. Those who served the empire or its military were well off. There was no middle class. Everyone else—local businesspeople, artisans, and especially fishermen and farmers—were peasants, including Jesus.
Herod was the ruler of Galilee, where Jesus grew up and began his ministry. But Galilee was under Roman rule, which meant Herod answered to Rome, not to his people. Like all earthly empires, this one hurt people, kept power in the hands of a few, and disregarded the lives of many, especially the people Jesus spent most of his time with.
So when Jesus says thy kingdom come, he’s saying: “things are not as they should be.
This empire of violence, oppression, and greed must be undone—stopped, even replaced.
And in its place, give us your kingdom, Lord.”
Which, if we pay attention to how Jesus describes it, is a rather radical thing to pray for.
A kingdom where the last are first and the first last?
A kingdom like a wedding party where the invited guests refuse to come, so people off the street—good and bad alike—are welcomed instead?
A kingdom described as seeds and weeds and small, insignificant things? That’s what Jesus wants us to pray for?
A kingdom that couldn’t be more at odds with the world as it is?
Yes. Exactly.
Jesus praying that prayer—and telling others to pray it too—was a threat to Herod and to Rome. Which shouldn’t surprise us. After all, Jesus had been a threat to the kingdoms of the world since his birth.
What that means for us is that we too are asking for God’s kingdom to come, reforming all the violent, oppressive, greedy kingdoms of this world. It means we recognize that things are not as they should be in this world: hungry children dying in Gaza, a week ago today 5 kids were shot not 10 miles from here, the wealthy growing wealthier while others are crushed by scarcity.
And because of all that and more, we long to be part of God’s kingdom—a kingdom of grace and mercy, of debts forgiven and cheeks turned, of self-sacrifice and love. When we pray thy kingdom come, we are praying not only for us to be in the kingdom, but for the kingdom to be in us. That we might be God’s kingdom at work in the world. Sounds pretty dangerous to me. But perhaps no more dangerous than the next part: thy will be done.
And for this I need to share a story about my son, Clive. He is a wonderful, joyous, and downright defiant little creature. I have never known someone so uncooperative in all my life!
Last week we were trying to get breakfast together. I asked him, "Do you want some oatmeal?" and he said, "No! I want candy!"
"No buddy, we don’t eat candy for breakfast."
"But that’s what I want."
"Clive, you can’t eat candy for breakfast."
"I want blue candy for breakfast!"
I thought, I can’t even think of what candy that might be…
So I said again, "Clive, we can’t have candy for breakfast, it’s not good for us."
To which he responded, "But it’s yummy and I want it!" and then proceeded to sprawl on the floor and cry. All I could do was laugh.
But it made me think: this is how God must see us. Wonderful, joyous, but downright defiant little creatures who do what they will, regardless of whether it’s what God wills for us.
When we say, “thy will be done”, we’re recognizing that the things we want are not always what they should be; like blue candy for breakfast, or whatever the newest, greatest product is.
We live in a culture that says the perfect life is always one more purchase away—one more pill, one more upgrade, one more new thing. But the life we want is always just out of reach.
So we pray thy will be done.
We beg God to take away our heart’s desires and replace them with God’s desires.
That’s dangerous.
Because God’s will might not look like what we want.
It might hurt. It might be uncomfortable. It might change us entirely. That was the case for Jesus, after all.
When we say those four little words, we’re really saying: Have mercy on us, Lord.
Don’t let things happen just because we want them to.
Give us patience.
Give us grace.
Give us strength.
To bear whatever you ask of us—
crucifying our will,
And raising up your divine will in its place.
That’s a dangerous prayer indeed.
We’re not just confessing that the world is marked by sin and sorrow—we’re admitting that we are too. So we ask God to change us so that we might go and change the world, little by little, bit by bit, until this world and those on it feel like we are in heaven, which is the goal, isn’t it?
And by this, I don’t mean heaven, as a place, but as a condition - because to be in heaven is nothing other than being with God. So when God’s way of doing things takes over the world and our hearts, we will be with God and God will be with us in the best, fullest way possible. In that way, earth will be as it is in heaven.
And that sounds even better than blue candy for breakfast.
Amen.
