The Lord's Prayer: Camellia Jiles
The following is a homily shared at our Eucharist Service on July 24, 2022:
He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” So he said to them, “When you pray, say:
Father, may your name be revered as holy.
May your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.
And do not bring us to the time of trial.”
And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything out of friendship, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.
“So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asked for a fish, would give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asked for an egg, would give a scorpion? If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
-Luke 11: 1-13, NRSV
The Lord’s Prayer is something that all of us have said countless times. At this point it’s difficult for me to not say it absentmindedly, mumbling through it quickly without processing the words. When I get to “amen” is when I realize that I wasn’t paying attention and try to say it again without spacing out. This rarely works. At times, I’ve had to squint my eyes shut and grip my chair to make it through the whole thing without getting distracted, and when I finish I feel like it was the hardest 30 seconds of my life.
So considering how often I recite this prayer while thinking about something else entirely, I’m grateful to be reminded of its perfection. That this is how Jesus teaches the disciples to pray always strikes me as a surprisingly simple answer to the question: how do we pray? No matter how many times I practice lectio or any other form of prayer, I find myself groping for the answer to that question: how do I pray? Am I focusing enough? Am I praying for the right things? Why can’t I stop getting distracted? I don’t have anything to say. But it’s true that the Lord’s Prayer can teach us how to pray and what to pray for. These words address all of our needs.
When we wish for people to come to know God, we can pray that His name be revered as holy. When we need to overcome the powers of fear, anxiety, tragedy, and injustice, we can pray for His kingdom to come to earth. When we need the Lord’s provision, we can pray for our daily bread. When we desperately need freedom from our sin, we can pray for the Lord’s forgiveness, which reminds us that we must forgive each other. When we need the strength to resist temptation, we can pray for His deliverance. Prayer often feels like fumbling around in the dark, but let’s not forget that Jesus has given us words to say. And when we don’t have the strength to say them, the Spirit intercedes for us, carrying our inner groanings and desires to the Father, who will answer these prayers because He gives good gifts to His children.
When we say the Lord’s Prayer in a few moments during the communion liturgy, try your best to really savor each word, knowing that these words themselves were given as a gift of the Lord’s provision and love for us. Amen.