Lord, Teach Us to Pray

We humans have a tendency to turn our religious beliefs and practices into something about us. Things meant to be God-focused and God-exalting, we make self-centered and self-serving.

This is sometimes true of prayer. Something meant to nurture relationship with God, we turn into a laundry list of requests. Something meant to change our hearts, we use to try to change God’s plan.

Jesus’ disciples saw something different about the way he prayed. It was not about him. In Luke 11, they asked him to teach them to pray. Why? They had seen amazing things happen when Jesus prayed. While praying at his baptism, the heavens opened, the Spirit descended and God affirmed Jesus messianic identity. While praying on the mountain, Jesus inner circle of disciples saw him transfigured and God spoke confirming Jesus as his Son. The disciples saw Jesus pray before miraculously multiplying bread and fish. They knew that when he prayed, God acted. They knew Jesus’ prayers were about his God-given mission, not his self-driven program. They wanted to learn. So Jesus taught them to pray.

To teach them, he gave them what we now know as the Lord’s Prayer. The longer and more familiar version is in Matthew 6:9-13. It starts with God, intimate (Father) yet transcendent (in the heavens). It’s about God’s reputation, God’s name being sanctified, that is, cleansed of all the grime smeared upon it by fallen people. It’s about seeing God as he truly is: holy and glorious. It’s about God’s kingdom, his rule and reign over his creation. Implication: we are dethroned and we submit. It’s about God’s will, not ours. How often we pray for our own will “in Jesus’ name,” and give no thought to whether our agenda has any resemblance to his. We say things like:

Please heal

No complications

Relieve his stress, pain

Fast recovery

Return to what she loves

And so on

There is rarely any acknowledgment in prayer of what we know to be true upon reflection: God has a purpose in our pain and does his best character-forming work during our toughest tests and darkest days.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t pray for help, relief or provision. Indeed, the Lord’s Prayer goes on to request daily bread, forgiveness, preservation from trial and salvation from evil. But all these requests come from the position of humility established by the former, God-focused lines of the prayer.

Jesus is again our example. In his darkest hour, alone and in anguish, he prayed, “Father, take this cup from me. Yet not my will, but yours be done.” And in that act of submission – and suffering – God’s kingdom came.

Let’s learn from our Lord’s life and his prayer. Let’s praise first. Let’s make it about God more than us. Let’s follow Jesus in denying our self-sovereignty and praying, “May your kingdom to come and your will be done.”

Doing Good for Goodness Sake

Why do we do good? So often it’s to get something, some reward. This is the way the world works. From the age of two, we are persuaded (or not, as the case may be) to do what others want us to do by means of a carrot and a stick. At home, in school, on sports teams, even in church. It’s not rocket science to figure out why people do this: it works. People respond to rewards and punishments.

But the question haunts me: does it work in the long run? What kind of people does it create? How do we become people who do the right thing, just because it’s the right thing, even when the reward is neither immediate nor tangible

Jesus encourages us to righteousness because it will lead to “reward” or “treasure” in heaven. I have neither space nor expertise to deal with the theological question about heavenly rewards. But Jesus is clearly not thinking about a piece of candy I can eat right now nor a gold star I can put on today’s behavior board nor a good grade on an assignment. (Nor, when Jesus speaks about punishment, is he thinking of losing my cell phone or being grounded for the next week.) The reward (and punishment) is out there in the uncertain future, and, although I have some scripturally-informed ideas about what it is, Jesus never comes right out and tells us precisely what “treasure in heaven” is. So we don’t know exactly what reward we’re working for or when we’ll receive it. Very different from all those years at home and in school. 

The question for me is: How do I raise my children to desire and pursue that reward even when it means forgoing some more instant gratification? Where’s the balance between using carrots and sticks sometimes to motivate my kids, and other times saying, just do this because it’s right. The question for you is: Will you trust Jesus when he tells you the kingdom is worth selling all you have and righteousness is worth seeking as your highest goal? Even when there’s no immediate or tangible reward, will you be good for goodness sake? Isn’t that, after all, a reward in itself?