This Sunday, the lectionary invites us to ponder Luke 11:1-13. The English Standard Version supplies the title “The Lord’s Prayer.”
Luke tells us that one time, after Jesus finished praying, his disciples came and asked him to teach them how to pray, “as John taught his disciples to pray.”
Today, as in Jesus’ day, we live in an atmosphere of religious tension. There are many religions, many faith systems; many beliefs and practices; many boundary markers between communities.
Today, as in Jesus’ day, politicians recognize the power of rituals to unite people.
Raising flags, singing songs, wearing distinctive clothing, are examples of religio-political rituals.
In Jesus’ day, Emperor worship was urged on everyone. The Roman rulers and their allies, including Herod and his sons who claimed to be Jews, built temples and monuments to Caesar.
In Malaysia, we have buildings which evoke Islam. For example, architects are quick to notice the eight-pointed stars, Islamic arches, and intricate patterns in the Dayabumi Tower in Kuala Lumpur, built in 1982.
The trained eye recognizes how Dayabumi is different from the neighbouring Sultan Abdul Samad building which incorporates British and Indian elements; even a clock tower which evokes Big Ben in London.
Dayabumi replaced one icon with another. It announced that we’ve soared above the colonial era, into Islam-flavoured modernity. It publicly erased and replaced the British and Indian elements in our history. It allowed the government to proclaim that it is stridently “Islamic.”
Dayabumi was also a departure from the style of the National Mosque, built in 1965 on the site of Venning Road Gospel Hall. It’s roof is a star with 18-points: one point for each of the 13 states, and for each of the five pillars of Islam.
Jesus and John didn’t speak about architectural expressions. They spoke about lives which express God. They said we express who we are by how we live. They said our lives proclaim things to God and to one another.
John’s teaching was centred on change. It was centred on recognizing and removing sin, not on placing high value on kinship with Father Abraham.
We don’t know how John taught his disciples to pray, but we know that he did. We do know what Jesus taught his disciples to pray.
We know Jesus prayed. He prayed alone and with others; aloud and silently; for short periods and for long periods; indoors and outdoors. Jesus lived a life of prayer.
We know what Jesus taught his disciples to pray. We call it the Lord’s Prayer. We pray it every Sunday.
What’s the purpose of the Lord’s Prayer? Seven answers are most commonly offered:
First, it’s addressed to another.
Second, it’s a recognition of relationship with God as Father.
Third, it’s a recognition of God as father of many.
Fourth, it’s an admission of our smallness relative to God.
Fifth, it’s a declaration of belief in the expanding reign of God.
Sixth, it’s an admission of dependence on God for everything in life.
Seventh, it’s a plea for several things, including forgiveness of sins.
Notice that it doesn’t explicitly mention Jesus or the cross. I can think of no reason why anyone who believes in a relational God should object to it.
That leads me to the question, “is it a boundary marker?”
I don’t think so.
Was there anything distinctive in Jesus teaching? Yes, there was.
He set his face towards Jerusalem, knowing he was the Lamb of God, to be sacrificed by crucifixion and returned to life by God, via resurrection.
But Jesus answered the disciples request for a “boundary-marking prayer” by offering them a “life-shaping prayer.” Properly used,
The Lord’s prayer erases things in us.
The Lord’s prayer engraves things in us.
The Lord’s prayer leads us to embrace others.
The Lord’s prayer energizes us.
If I designed public buildings, I’d include elements from all communities.
Why? Because I’m shaped by the “Our Father” in The Lord’s Prayer.
That brings me to my title, “The Lord’s Prayer is better than a baptism certificate.”
An immigration officer asked a friend of mine to prove that he was a Christian. My friend spoke of how he prayed to Jesus before he did anything, how he read his Bible daily, how he attended worship services.
The officer was unimpressed. The officer asked for his baptism certificate.
My friend – who often arranged baptisms for others – said to the officer: let me pray The Lord’s Prayer now, in your language. And he did.
I think the officer saw how The Lord’s Prayer erases, engraves, embraces, energizes.
The officer was satisfied.
Imagine. The boundary marker of a Christian doesn’t mention Jesus. Instead, it proclaims Jesus through words and changed lives.
Peace be with you.
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