The Prayer — Matthew 6:7-13

Introduction

Today is a good day.

Jesus’s finished work is our great hope. We get to celebrate that hope today!

Jesus taught his people how to pray. We get to dwell on that teaching today!

I have one goal for this message:

That you would leave this place understanding the fundamental relationship between those two things.

I’m going to explain that relationship now, in a few different ways, and then we’re going to see that relationship in the text.

Outside of the finished work of Jesus, this prayer doesn’t make sense.

You can’t mean these words if you don’t hope in Christ’s finished work.

The finished work of Jesus is the cornerstone, the foundation, and the scaffolding of this prayer.

We’re going to explore this passage, Lord willing, over three weeks.

Today, we’ll study the prayer at a very high altitude, and we’ll explore what it has to do with Christ’s death and resurrection.

You’ll see in just a moment that the prayer is split logically into two halves.

Next time, we’ll slow down and explore God’s holiness, God’s kingdom, and God’s will.

Finally, we’ll dive deep into our frailty, forgiveness, and hope.

The Text

Matthew 6:7–13 ESV

“And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Pray then like this: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

The Context

Okay, let’s backup for a moment for a bit of context.

Starting in chapter six, Jesus starts to draw some boundaries around true righteousness (little r).

You should be giving generously, but do it secretly, to make sure that you’re not seeking the praise of people.

You should be praying, but secretly. You shouldn’t ever pray to earn the respect or attention of people.

You should be fasting, but don’t let anybody know. Because the goal should be seeking God’s presence, not man’s praise.

This section culminated in a set of choices, which really amounts to one choice:

Pick a kingdom to invest in.

Your stuff.

Your attention.

Your allegiance.

Your behavior is a window into your kingdom citizenship. So stop investing in the crumbling kingdom and start investing in the coming kingdom.

Just about halfway through this section Jesus pauses, shifts his attention a bit, and offers the most important aside in the history of the world. Since that moment, this prayer has become central in the faith, practice, liturgy, and theological imaginations of nearly every sect of nearly every generation of Christianity.

It’s difficult to exaggerate the significance of this prayer.

For how we think about God.

For how we think about ourselves.

And, ultimately, for how we think about the gospel.

The Preface

Before we get into the prayer itself, let’s reread the preface.

So Jesus begins teaching his disciples how to pray by teaching them how not to pray. He says:

Matthew 6:7–8 ESV

“And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

Don’t “heap up empty phrases”

What does this mean?

Remember that Jesus sometimes prayed all night (Luke 6:12) — so it cannot be a prohibition to pray for a long time.

Remember that Jesus sometimes repeated himself in prayer (Matthew 26:44) — so it cannot be a prohibition broadly against praying the same thing more than once.

Remember that Jesus taught his disciples that they should keep praying for the same thing and never give up (Luke 18:1) — so it cannot be a prohibition against returning to speak with God about the same thing on countless occasions.

It means unnecessary, meaningless repetition for its own sake.

The word he uses here is onomatopoetic. That means it’s a word that sounds like what it’s describing. The word is “battalogeo” or “battal” in Aramaic. Blah blah blah blah is the idea, and we’ve got a word like this in English: Babble. Don’t go babbling on.

And if we want to understand this, we can look back into ancient pagan practice. We could reflect on the pagan assumption that if you called on each god by name, one or two would be more likely to listen. And if you kept repeating yourself, like a mantra, you’d hold their attention almost like a spell.

But we don’t really have to look that far back to see this sort of prayer. In our weak moments, we can babble on, too. In weak moments, we find ourselves repeating “Lord Jesus” every sentence or two, asking for God to do this or that, provide this or that, move in this or that way, in mindless repitition — not from a sense of desperation, but because it just feels more prayerful to repeat yourself. Sometimes from a sense of rote obligation we repeat liturgical prayers without heart nor mind engaged.

Don’t assume you’ll be “heard for your many words.”

Jesus says that God doesn’t work that way. He isn’t a lifeless idol.

He isn’t distant. He isn’t short-sighted. He needn’t be woken up. He doesn’t have a short-attention span.

God isn’t like the gods.

He is your father.

He knows what you need before you have a mind to ask him.

Now don’t miss that, because that framework is important.

God is your Father, and he already knows what you need.

How we pray, Jesus says, should reflect that stunning truth.

What follows, then, is the sort of prayer that takes that truth for granted.

In other words, if you believed that you are God’s dearly loved child, and that he knows what you need even before you ask, you’d pray like this.

Read together with me.

Matthew 6:9–13 ESV

Pray then like this: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

There’s a lot here, and some of it will have to wait.

But this morning I want to highlight three things that this prayer is doing.

First, this prayer CELEBRATES GOD’S HOLINESS.

“Our Father...”

I think a lot of attention is set on the opening, “Our Father.” Rightfully so. Because wow, what an earth-shaking revelation, what a tremendous evidence of grace. But let’s set that aside, just for a moment, to reflect on what follows.

“…in heaven,”

I want to highlight these words because we often pass over them, but they are our first introduction to a major theme in this prayer, in this sermon, and in Jesus’ ministry.

We are reminded where God, our Father, actually is. He is high above us. He is where there is no sin, where there is no foolishness. He is in heaven, and we are on earth, and his ways are high above our ways. In a slight turn of phrase we’re reminded not only that God is near to us in one sense, but profoundly that he is far above us in another.

"Hallowed be your name.”

The holiness of God, just alluded to, is now explicit. But not in the way you’d expect. I expected to find just now the words, “You are holy.” Or, “we praise you because you are holy.” Yet although the holiness of God is assumed, implied, structurally everywhere in this passage, that isn’t the content of our prayers. It goes without saying that God is holy. We are to pray that the world would see, and honor, and celebrate God’s name.

God’s name is a very Jewish way to say God himself, in all his character and work, as he’s encountered by his creatures.

The hope of Christian prayer is that we ourselves, together with every tribe and tongue and nation, would see God as he is. That we would revere him in awestruck praise, because he is holy, righteous, powerful and good.

“Your kingdom come,”

And we don’t stop there. It isn’t enough that God might be seen as holy, and righteous, and good. We are desperate for God to reign — that God in his holiness and righteousness and goodness would come and fix the world.

We’ve encountered this notion already, once in John’s preaching, and many times in Jesus’s teaching. The kingdom of God in Matthew isn’t a far-off, future reality. The kingdom of God is already, and not-yet. Already, it’s coming. The voice of one crying out in the wilderness was the first glimpse of the Kingdom of God. And since that moment, we get glimpses of God’s reign scattering the darkness, like torches in a dark land. Those glimpses teach our hearts to hope in the renewal of all things in the fullness of God’s future kingdom.

“your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

It’s been a silent backdrop until this moment, but every word of this prayer has alluded to this broken and wicked world.

Sin has corrupted all things, and the darkness reigns. We weep because of it. All suffering, all hate, all violence — we have made this world a dark, terrible place in our sin.

Wickedness is not God’s will. He hates sin, and he won’t have it. In his righteousness and justice and wrath God ends sin. That’s his will.

That’s why every glimpse of the heavenly hosts is spotless, glorious worship. God is good, and he makes things good. So where God is, there is no sin, no darkness, no violence.

We long for the day when God’s will (as we see it done in heaven) is done on earth.

This prayer begins with a celebration of God’s holiness. He is far above us. He is perfect and good and righteous. And we desperately long for his righteous reign here, on earth, because without it we are lost. Keep reading.

Second, this prayer ADMITS MY WRETCHEDNESS.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

I think perhaps the most profound moment in this prayer is how seamlessly we shift from a reflection on God’s awesome power — his awesome holiness and righteousness, his awesome reign — to our sincere frailty.

We are dependent upon God even for the bread we eat every day, because God is the giver of every good gift. Every breath, every meal, every friend. Just then, when your synapses fired and your mind conjured the image of friends and meals — that was because God has held you together in his infinite power.

We need God, desperately. And that desperate dependency hangs upon his pardon. Keep reading.

“…and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.”

Woven throughout this prayer is a recognition of the wide chasm between the righteousness of God — his holiness and goodness — and the wickedness of man.

Here, we admit (frankly and soberly) that we are as much a cause of that chasm as any other man.

We are wretches, hopelessly damned rebels. We have rejected God’s good and gone our own dark way.

In a word, we are the problem. Not just because we have sinned (past tense) against God, but because we are inclined to sin (future tense) against God.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

These two statements — “Forgive us, and keep us from temptation” — taken together, represent a sort of portrait of our wretchedness. Even in the face of God’s grace, we are weak. “Prone to wander, Lord I feel it.”

We have sinned, Lord, and if you don’t get in the way we’ll keep sinning.

After reflecting on God’s goodness, we remember our badness. After reflecting on God’s power, we remember our weakness. After reflecting on God’s holiness, we remember our wickedness.

God is the solution. We are the problem. And that’s the brilliant complexity of this prayer.

Third, this prayer RESTS IN GOD’S MERCY.

Every step of the way, this prayer seems to take for granted God’s mercy. Or perhaps presuppose God’s mercy.

Here’s what I mean:

The prayer begins with a bold assertion that God is our Father.

Although we confess that God is Holy, Righteous, Just, and Powerful....

…and although we admit our own frailty, wickedness, and weakness...

…we still call God Father, look to God for rescue, look to God for provision, look to God for forgiveness, and look to God for guidance and protection.

Do you see the issue?

In the one hand, we celebrate that God is holy — that he hates sin and overthrows the wicked to rescue the world.

And on the other hand, we admit that we are the wicked whose sin has broken the world.

Yet we call this Holy God our Father, and we confidently turn to him for forgiveness, for patience, for rescue and final deliverance.

And my question is, How?

When I sinned I made this holy God my great enemy. How can I now call him “Father?”

His kingdom come is the great ruin of all wicked men. How can I, a wicked man, hope in his Kingdom?

On what basis can I rest in his mercy?

Easter is the answer.

Jesus bore the penalty for our sins on the cross. That’s how.

Jesus took my sin and he gave me his righteousness. That’s how.

Because he died, I stand forgiven. That’s how.

I, a wretched sinner, can celebrate the Holiness of God because Jesus, the spotless lamb, was sacrificed on my behalf. All of God’s wrath earned by my sin was poured out on him. I have a Great High Priest whose blood was spilt to cover my sin once for all, and who sat down at the right hand of God because the job was done. That’s how.

I don’t have to fear God’s wrath any longer, because Jesus took that wrath. All that’s left is grace and mercy. That’s how.

There’s only one way that wretched sinners can celebrate God’s holiness. The work of Christ.

It’s the only way to make sense of this prayer, because without his covering we are enemies of God.

If he hadn’t absorbed God’s wrath, God’s holiness and God’s kingdom are very bad news for people like us.

If he hadn’t traded my sins for his righteousness, I’d stand before God condemned.

But he did die in our stead.

And he did rise on the third day, declaring victory over death.

And he did sit down at the right hand of the Father, because the work of my redemption was done.

And he does intercede on my behalf, every moment from this day until the dawn of his kingdom.

In Christ, I can celebrate the holiness and righteousness and power of God.

In Christ, I can confess my sin and frailty without fear.

In Christ, I can look with confidence in his gracious care.

In Christ, I can call God my Father, and look forward to his coming righteous kingdom.

Christ’s finished work is the only way this prayer makes sense.

Application