Our Father

Matthew 6:9-13

May 7, 2023 • Mount Pleasant UMC

So for the last three weeks, we’ve been talking a lot about these six words—words I hope you know by now and might even be wearing around town on your t-shirt! Love God, Love People, Love Life. As I hope you know by now, doing these things are the way, we believe, we are going to accomplish our mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. But there is something else we need to do before we do any of that, because without this action, the other actions are done in our own strength and we won’t get very far. That first action, that first step is prayer. Bishop Trimble is fond of saying, “No prayer, no power. Much prayer, much power.” Prayer is and must be the basis of everything we do.

And I can feel some of you rolling your eyes, at least internally. Prayer is hard. I’ve tried it, I’m not very good at it, and I’m not sure my prayers have ever gotten through the ceiling. Will it ruin your image of me as your pastor if I tell you that I find prayer hard and frustrating at times, too? It is hard but I keep coming back to it because, honestly, there is something within me that needs to connect with God, and the way we do that is through prayer.

 

         One day, Jesus came back to his disciples from a time of prayer, and Luke says that one of his disciples—probably Peter, if I were to guess—said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1). Prayer was not a new thing to those disciples; devout Jews prayed the Shema twice a day, that prayer from Deuteronomy 6 we talked about a few weeks ago: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (6:4). And there were eighteen other prayers that were used at various points throughout the day. The Jews had been a praying people for centuries (Mulholland, Praying Like Jesus, pg. 12). And, let’s face it, humans in general are praying creatures. Even people who don’t believe in much at all still have this desire to reach out to someone or something beyond themselves. I think the disciples had watched Jesus for a while now, and they noticed something different in his prayer life. Perhaps they thought he had some secret for effective and easy prayer. “Teach us to pray,” they say. Of course, he already had. Chronologically before the moment in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus had taught a crowd (that included at least some of his current disciples) a prayer we call “The Lord’s Prayer.” He taught it as a part of the Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew 6. I think it’s misnamed; he gave it to us, so it’s really “the disciples’ prayer,” but whatever you call it, as we seek to undergird our vision with prayer, there’s no better person to learn from than Jesus himself.

So when the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray, Jesus begins with these words: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name” (6:9). That’s a mouthful, just the first line, and in the brief time we have this morning, I want to try to unpack it just a little bit, because knowing who we pray to affects the way we pray. There are a lot of phrases used in the Bible to describe or name God, particularly in the Hebrew Scriptures. God is called El Shaddai, or “God Almighty.” He is called, “El Elyon,” which means “God Most High.” Sometimes we hear the words “Adonai” (meaning Lord) or even “Yahweh,” which is how God revealed himself to Moses: “I am that I am” (Exodus 3:14). Jews will not say the name “Yahweh,” and most often in their public prayers refer to God as, “O Lord our God, King of the universe” (Hamilton, The Lord’s Prayer, pg. 6). But Jesus didn’t use any of those names when he wanted to teach his followers how to address God. Instead, he called God, “Our Father.”

The word “father” does show up in the Hebrew Scriptures referring to God, but it is always as an analogy (Carson, “The Gospel of Matthew,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 169). Until Jesus came along, no one dared to directly call God “Father.” In a sense, they had always kept God at a distance, and then along comes this traveling rabbi from Nazareth who challenges the way they’ve always talked to God. Not only did Jesus use the word “Father” to talk to God; he called him “Abba,” which little children still use today in Israel to call to their Daddies. It’s scandalous! You can’t talk to God like that. He’s the Lord and creator of all there is. Calling him “Father”? What was Jesus thinking?

Aside from the fact that Jesus is the Son who is one with the Father (a whole lot of doctrine that would take more time than we have to unpack), Jesus is really wanting us to remember in our prayers that God is personal. God is not like the Roman gods the people would have been familiar with, beings who were self-centered and really uninterested in humans unless they could torment them. God is not “The Force” from Star Wars. God is not the same as “Mother Nature” or the earth. God is personal. God is a father. He can be known. We can talk to him and expect him to talk back to us. He is loving toward his children, and he wants to be in a relationship with us.

Now, I recognize that the image of “Father” is a hard one for some folks. Some of us had amazing fathers, and the memories associated with that word are positive ones. Others had dads who were absent, or abusive, or indifferent. For some, the word “Father” brings up painful memories. And so some people advocate for getting rid of that name for God and instead using “Creator” or something like that. The problem is we’ve gotten it backwards. We shouldn’t judge God by the actions of our earthly fathers; it should be the other way around. “Your earthly father is not the pattern for God’s fatherhood, but God is the pattern and example of what a father is meant to be; that is one who is steadfast, faithful, loving, kind, compassionate, merciful and present” (Hamilton 9). God is always a good, good father, even when our earthly fathers fail us. Pope Francis invites us “to remember that, regardless of whether our human fathers loved us deeply or abandoned us entirely, or whether our fathers died or were simply absentee, we are not orphans. In fact, there are no orphans, for we all have a Father who loves us” (Hamilton 11). This God to whom we pray is our father in heaven, our good and great protector who, like a good father, is always concerned about the things that concern us and wants to hear from us (Stott, The Message of the Sermon on the Mount, pg. 146). He is our Father.

And he is, Jesus says, our Father. Isn’t it sort of amazing Jesus doesn’t teach his disciples to pray to “my Father”? This isn’t necessarily a personal prayer, though it can be prayed personally, but even when you pray it alone in your room, you are reminded from the very beginning that you are part of a community. God is not just your Father or my Father. He is our father. As we will see in the weeks to come, everything about this prayer is rooted in community because Biblical faith is centered on community. I say it often here: the Bible knows nothing of individual faith. Our faith is rooted and shaped and formed and experienced best in community—and for us, that means the Body of Christ. “We live in a world that is focused on my, mine, and me, for Jesus teaches us to pray our, us, and we” (Hamilton 6).

One of the horrible after-effects of the Covid pandemic, one that I believe we will be dealing with for a long, long time, is the result of the social isolation we were all subjected to. We were told that, in order to “flatten the curve” and stop the spread, we needed to practice “social distancing.” Not only were we to stand 6 feet away from others if we were out and about, we were expected not to go out and about. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most people still stand 6 feet apart or so in a line. But during and after the pandemic came an “epidemic” of loneliness. This week the surgeon general issued a warning about this epidemic, because research shows that loneliness and isolation are linked to sleep problems, anxiety, heart disease, addiction and self-harm, among other things. The advisory issued by the government says that social connection is as essential to humanity as food, water or shelter (CNN Online, 5/2/2023). Of course it is; that’s the way God made us, and that’s the way he designed life to be lived. We are made to be in community, and there should be no greater community for us to find the connections we need than the church. Jesus demonstrated that by establishing a community of twelve disciples who learned to live their faith together, and he taught them in this prayer the vital necessity of community. God is “our” Father. “The prayer reminds us that our faith is intended to be lived out with others, and that our prayers are prayed with others and for others” (Hamilton 7).

I believe part of the reason we are so angry these days is because we have isolated ourselves in various ways. We’ve divided into like-minded camps, and we unfriend anyone on social media who disagrees with us in the slightest way. Jesus doesn’t do that in this prayer. God isn’t just the God of the people who are like you. He is “our” Father—all of us. He is the God of Methodists and Baptists and Pentecostals and all the other labels. He is the God of Protestants and Catholics and Orthodox. He is the God of liberals and conservatives, of every color and ethnic group, of all nations and peoples. He is even God over people who don’t believe in him. Crazy, huh? “Our Father.” If we share the same Father, then we are family, whether we like that crazy cousin or not. I know—at this point, I’ve quit preaching and gone to meddling, so let’s get back to the prayer.

So once we’ve clarified who it is we are praying to, we move to the first petition or request Jesus teaches us to make—and, contrary to our normal ways of praying, it is not something for or even about us. You know how it usually is; we start praying and immediately go to asking for what we want. “God, please heal…please watch over…please give me…” And so on. That’s not how Jesus tells us to begin. His first request is for something to happen to the Father: “Hallowed be your name.” That’s an unusual word, isn’t it? “Hallowed.” I’d be willing to bet the only times you ever use it is when we pray the Lord’s prayer or when you talk about “Halloween” (cf. Hamilton 16). It’s an old word that means “to make holy.” Now, we don’t make God holy; God is holy by his very nature. When we pray, “hallowed be your name,” we are asking that God be given the reverence and the honor that God is due. In The Message, Eugene Peterson puts that request this way: “Reveal who you are.” So how does that happen? How is God’s holiness, who God really is, revealed? Well, it’s through you and me; through the lives we live in his name and in his power. In essence, we are praying something like: “God, help us to live in such a way that you are glorified through us.” Jesus already told us to do that earlier in the Sermon on the Mount: “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). How do we “hallow” God with our lives?

         Hallowed be your name, Father, in our homes. Let the words spoken among the people in our homes be full of grace. The ancient wisdom of Proverbs says we are to “start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it” (22:6). I happen to think that our children’s and youth ministries under the direction of Ginger and Jess are just about the best you’ll find anywhere. They and their volunteers model Jesus in so many ways, and I know those of you who have children and grandchildren in their ministries agree with me because I hear from you often. But Proverbs isn’t talking about church ministries first and foremost. It’s talking about what our kids hear and see in our homes, in our lives as parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles and caregivers. There were occasions—I won’t say how many—where I would say or do something at home that my kids knew wasn’t consistent with what I had said on Sunday and more than once they called me out on it. I hated it when they used my own words against me! I still hate that! But they were right, and I had to apologize. They’re watching us, and they know when what we say doesn’t match what we do. If we want to hallow the Father’s name in our homes, we will do all we can to demonstrate to the young people around us the way they should go, so that when they are old they will walk in it. Hallowed be your name, Father, in our homes. Help us bring glory to your name.

         Hallowed be your name, Father, in our church. This has been the heart behind all of our talk about vision and mission in the last few weeks. Ultimately, none of this is about us, or about growing Mount Pleasant. We want to be a church that is kingdom-minded, a body that is focused on doing everything we can to see God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven (which we will talk more about next week). Pastor Craig Groeschel says one of the characteristics of churches who have “it” is that they know it’s not about them. “It is about Jesus. There’s no other name under heaven by which we can be saved, and so no other name really matters. It’s all about him” (Leading Like It Matters, pg. 140). And so we partner with anyone for whom that is also the focus and priority because we’re about his kingdom and not our own. That’s why we pastors gather on Tuesday mornings here in our chapel from all sorts of different traditions. That’s ministries like Grace Gala and Celebrate Recovery are not about building Mount Pleasant’s “brand” but about building God’s kingdom. It’s “more about what God is doing everywhere than what God is doing right here” (Groeschel 152). Hallowed be your name, Father, in our church. Help us bring glory to your name.

         Hallowed be your name, Father, in our government. Paul, writing to his “son in the faith” Timothy (1 Timothy 1:2), tells him to pray for those in authority over us “so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity” (1 Timothy 2:1-2). And this was in the heart of the Roman Empire, during a time when the Empire was becoming increasingly hostile toward Christians. Paul says that doesn’t matter; you still pray for all of those in authority, not just the ones you like or the ones you agree with. He suggests we pray that God’s name would be hallowed through the actions of our government, that godliness and dignity and justice would be the hallmarks of our leaders. Paul doesn’t say, “Pray that your view on social issues would prevail.” He says, “Pray for the people who are in leadership.” Pray for them by name, and that’s inclusive from local government all the way up to our nation’s leaders. Hallowed be your name, Father, in our government. Help us bring glory to your name.

         Hallowed be your name, Father, in our world. Throughout the Scriptures, God’s call to us is to pray and work for justice, especially in places where justice is so hard to find, places like Palestine and Israel, Sudan, North Korea, China, Iraq. We cannot begin to imagine the difficulties of life there, and we cannot begin to imagine the horrors our brothers and sisters in Christ experience in many places around the world. We’re called to pray that God’s name would be hallowed there as well as here, for God is creator of all. Several years ago, I read a testimony from a believer in a persecuted country who said they do not pray for the persecution to end. That’s what we would pray; that’s what I would pray. But, he said, they pray that they will have the strength to endure and be able to give glory to God. That’s humbling to me; what about you? Hallowed be your name, Father, in our world. May your name be glorified in all the world so “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:10-11).

We’re going to be working through this prayer over the next seven weeks, and I want to encourage you to incorporate praying this prayer into your daily devotions. Not just saying it, but praying it. Reflecting on what the words mean rather than just repeating it. If Jesus say, “Pray like this,” then I tend to think we ought to do just that: pray like this! Can you, for the next seven weeks, pray these words each day until they get deep into your soul, until these words shape all the rest of your words?

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name…” Hallowing God’s name is not just about the songs we sing on Sunday. It’s about all of our life. It’s about the way we live our lives in his honor and for his glory. And we can begin by kneeling before him, expressing our gratitude for all he has done in and for us. This morning, we’re going to take some time to do that at the communion table. Now, maybe you’re not able to physically kneel, but you can bow your heart, acknowledging the one who is above everything else. So let’s come before him this morning, our King and Lord, the one who is hallowed above all else, the one who is our Father. Let’s join together in prayer as we prepare our hearts and lives for holy communion.