The Lords Prayer
AFTER THE FALL OF THE SOVIET UNION I was privileged to lecture in Riga for the Latvian Lutheran Church. Most of the participants in the seminar were between the ages of 25–35. This meant that all of their education had been in the communist state system, which was determined to indoctrinate them in atheism. I asked one of the young women about how she came to faith.
“Was there a church in your village?” I asked.
“No, the communists closed all of them,” she replied.
“Did some saintly grandmother instruct you in the ways of God?”
“No. All the members of my family were atheists.”
“Did you have secret home Bible studies, or was there an underground church in your area?”
“No, none of that” came the answer.
“So, what happened?”
She told me the following story:
At funerals we were allowed to recite the Lord’s Prayer. As a young child I heard those strange words and had no idea who we were talking to, what the words meant, where they came from or why we were reciting them. When freedom came at last, I had the opportunity to search for their meaning. When you are in total darkness, the tiniest point of light is very bright. For me the Lord’s Prayer was that point of light. By the time I found its meaning I was a Christian.
The Hebrew verb palal means “to pray,” or “to intercede.” It comes from the root, pll, which carries the idea of “intervening” or “interposing.” One who prays “interposes” himself or herself between God and some other thing, condition, or person. The Bible assumes that people will pray to their God, since they are dependent upon Him for everything (our sin makes prayer even more of a necessity). The power of prayer is simply amazing because it changes not only the world, but also the person praying. It touches not only the supplicant, but also the very heart of God
However, the prayers of the Old Testament differ in many respects from those of the surrounding ancient Near Eastern cultures. The biblical examples of prayer portray Yahweh as a God who listens, not a deity who is distant or must be cajoled into attending the affairs of humanity.
Sumerian and Akkadian prayers included more petition than their Egyptian counterparts. For example, the Prayer of Lamentation to Ishtar begs the goddess, “Accept my prayers. Faithfully look upon me and hear my supplication” (Prayer of Lamentation to Ishtar 3–5). These prayers portray gods who are disengaged from the affairs of humanity and must be cajoled to take notice: “I am kneeling; I tarry (thus); I seek after thee” (Prayer to the Moon God, 21). Additionally, Sumerian and Akkadian prayers are less optimistic than those of ancient Egypt and focus on petitions and acknowledgement of sin more than creation and life. For example, the phrases “How long?” and “be appeased” recur throughout the Psalm to Marduk. The Akkadian Prayer to the Gods of the Night depicts the great gods of Old Babylon—Shamash, Sin, Adad, and Ishtar—asleep in their chambers, indifferent to the concerns of their devotees. These prayers often included the consultation of omens, oracles, and magic rituals as a way of appeasing the gods’ anger and arousing their attention (Lenzi, Akkadian Prayers, 9–68). By contrast, the biblical prayers portray a God who is eager to listen to the concerns and cares of His people: “I call out to Yahweh; he answers me from his holy hill” (Psa 3:4).
Another notable difference between Israelite prayers and those of other ancient Near Eastern cultures is that while Israel’s neighbors praised their gods for their attributes and character, the Israelites praised Yahweh for His involvement in human history. Descriptions of the gods’ beauty and fragrance dominate the prayers of Egypt, just as the Akkadian prayers hail Shamash as true, just, and glorious. For example, Ishtar is “strong, exalted, splendid” (Hymn to Ishtar, 22–24). By contrast, the prayers and hymns of the early biblical tradition, while careful to note Yahweh’s attributes, continually refer to His acts. Yahweh’s deliverance of His people from Egypt and His defeat of opposing kings and armies are recurring themes in the biblical prayers
an apparent sharp contrast that appears in the two opening phrases of the Lord’s Prayer. In the first phrase, Jesus teaches that God is like a father who loves us. On the other hand, God is holy, and that holiness demands purity, which translates into righteousness. As that holiness is demonstrated we sense that we are unclean. Indeed, Israel’s sin caused the very holiness of God to be defiled.
How can love and holiness be brought together? The first draws us to God, while the second, as with Isaiah, causes us to withdraw.
The holiness of God requires purity and righteousness. When such lifestyles are not exhibited God cannot ignore their absence. But God is also love, and the love of God is affirmed by his title of “Abba” (Father). These two aspects of the known nature of God are conflicted in the heart of God by the reality of the lives of his people. Hosea understood the problem. The cross of Jesus is the ultimate solution to that problem.
Let it come—thy kingdom,
let it be done—thy will.
The above rough translation preserves the literal Semitic word order preserved in the Greek text