Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread

Whenever we pray the Lord's Prayer, we ask for our daily bread. What is that, anyway? This sermon considers just that question. Are we only asking for food... or for something far deeper? What do you think?

In our travels through the Lord’s Prayer, we have finally arrived at the point at which we’re going to ask for something for ourselves. We haven’t done that yet. Until now, we have focused our prayers completely on God. We’ve acknowledged God’s relationship with us – and our relationship with God – and we’ve prayed that what God wants might actually happen. “Thy kingdom come” and “thy will be done” are the language that we use to pray for that, but those requests are actually two sides of the same coin! ”Come on, God, bring it on!” we’ve said. “We can’t wait for the wholeness and peace of your kingdom!” And that is all that we’ve asked for so far. But now, we begin to ask for ourselves. We ask “Give us this day our daily bread.” “Our daily bread.” What is that, anyway? Is it literal bread? Are we asking for a nice loaf of Pepperidge Farm thin sliced wheat? Do we just want food to fill our stomachs? Or is “our daily bread” something more than that?

In both the Old and the New Testament, the word “bread” is frequently a symbol for more than just food. Sure, sometimes it means literal “bread,” but “bread” often stands for basic human needs. It can mean “food” in a generic sense – any food, not just bread. After all, we all need to eat food in order to survive. Other times, “bread” means basic physical needs like clothing or shelter. And sometimes, the word “bread” has a spiritual meaning. When Jesus tells his followers in the gospel of John that he is the “Bread of Life,” he doesn’t mean that he is going to literally fill their empty stomachs with himself. On the contrary, he takes great pains to explain to them that if they are only looking for physical food from him, they should go someplace else. The bread that Jesus offers us is spiritual, meant to feed the hunger of our souls. (If you want to see what Jesus says about being the Bread of Life, you’ll want to read John 6.)

So, what does “our daily bread” mean here in the Lord’s Prayer? Are we asking for food, or for something else? Maybe it will help us to find the answer if we look at another story that both Matthew and Mark have included in their gospels. Actually, it’s a set of stories – two stories that have been stuck together because they’re meant to be read together. Each story helps to throw light on the other one. The clue that tells us that these stories go together is the language that Jesus uses. In both stories, Jesus asks someone, “What do want me to do for you?” In other words, “What do you need?” As we consider these two little stories, listen for the Lord’s Prayer echoing in the background: “Give us this day our daily bread.”

The main characters in the first story are two of Jesus’ disciples, James and John. Tradition calls them “Sons of Thunder” because they were in-your-face kinds of guys. James and John never beat around the bush! You always knew exactly where you stood with the two of them. In this story, they come strutting up to Jesus like they own the world. “Teacher,” they begin, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask!” Well, that’s some nerve! It reminds me of the teenager who comes to his parents on the day before Thanksgiving with an enormous Christmas list that includes the brand names of all the gifts and where they can be purchased. “This is what I want for Christmas,” he says, “and if there’s room under the tree, I can give you some more ideas.” But their nervy request doesn’t seem to throw Jesus off his game. He simply replies, “What do you want me to do for you? What do you need?” Their request is stunning. “We want you to let one of us sit on your right hand and the other on your left hand in glory.” In other words, they want all the glory of God’s kingdom for themselves. They want Jesus to appoint them his top advisors – two junior Messiahs who will share the power when Jesus finally takes over. They want glory and power and prestige. And Jesus says, “No.”

Now compare their request with the one in the second story of the pair. The main character in the second story isn’t one of Jesus’ disciples at all. It’s a man named Bartimaeus, a blind man who sits along the road to Jericho and begs for whatever scraps he can get out of the people who pass by. Bartimaeus doesn’t strut up to Jesus and ask for glory. He can’t even see Jesus! Other people have to tell him that Jesus is passing by! But when he hears that Jesus is there, he starts to yell over and over at the top of his voice, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me! Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus asks him the very same question that he asked James and John. “What do you want me to do for you? What do you need?” But how different his answer is! Bartimaeus doesn’t want any glory. He isn’t interested in power or prestige. He just wants to be able to see something! And what is Jesus’ response? “Go,” says Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” “Immediately,” says the gospel story, “immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus along the road.”

What a difference in these two little stories! In both, someone wants Jesus to act on their behalf. In both, Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you? What do you need?” In the first story, the request is for power and glory. Those may be things that we all want, but they aren’t things that any of us need. But in the second story, Bartimaeus only asks for what he needs – his sight. And after he gets it, he doesn’t run off and use it for his own benefit. Instead, he follows Jesus.

What do we want… and what do we need? That question that lies at the very heart of our request, “Give us this day our daily bread.” When we ask God for our daily bread, we’re asking not for what we want but for what we need. There’s a difference between those two things, and it’s a difference that many people don’t understand. Yes, you need new jeans for school. No, you don’t need $90 jeans with the name of a designer stitched across the back pocket. You may want that, but you don’t need it. We get our wants and our needs confused all the time. That’s because Madison Avenue does such a good job of convincing us that we need all kinds of things. We are surrounded by appealing images – on TV commercials, in magazine advertisements, on billboards along I-75 as we drive to Dayton. We’re told that we need the fastest car, the most stylish clothing, and the most delicious food. But we don’t need those things! What we need is enough food to survive, enough clothing to keep us warm, the love and support of friends and family, and the guidance of God. Those are our real needs. That’s what we’re really asking for when we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

There is a poem that illustrates beautifully the difference between our wants and our needs when we ask in prayer. I do not know who the author is; perhaps no one knows. We would do well to keep it in mind when we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

I asked God for strength that I might achieve.
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy.
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have people’s praise.
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life.
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all people, most richly blessed.

 

Thy Will Be Done

This sermon, the third in a series examining the Lord's Prayer, considers what we are asking for when we pray "Thy will be done." What is God's will, anyway? Do you agree with my answer?

“Thy will be done.” We have come to the third petition in our series of sermons considering the Lord’s Prayer. We began by calling God “our Father,” that title that is at the same time the most loving and the most respectful. Then we joined in praying that God’s Kingdom might finally arrive, that kingdom where all are loved and nurtured and fulfilled. And now, we’re asking that God’s will might take priority over our own desires.

But what is God’s will, anyway? I know that there are lots of people who are ready to explain it to me if I ask them; and even if I don’t ask them they’ll probably explain it to me, anyway. They’ve got God’s will all figured out, locked in a box of certainty so tight that no whiff of doubt would ever dare to waft in. They’ve got God’s will down to a science! God’s will is… this; and God’s will isn’t… that. I have a sneaking suspicion, though, that the people who say they know the most about God’s will are the ones who really know the least about it.

After all, just listen to some of the claims that people make about God’s will. I have heard God’s will used to explain all kinds of events that I’m pretty sure God has very little to do with. I have heard God’s will used to explain both picnic weather and hurricanes, missed punts and winning touchdown runs, pink slips and unexpected promotions, joyful weddings and difficult divorces, and pretty much anything else that you can imagine. If something thrills us to the core of our very being… well, then, it must be God’s will. But if an unexpected disaster occurs without warning… well, some people claim that must be God’s will, too! Can all of this be God’s will? And if that isn’t the case, how do we sort out what God’s will is, anyway?

Sometimes, the only thing I’m sure of is that we can’t neatly define God’s will. Just when we think we’ve got God’s will firmly in our hands, it slips away from us like a wiggly little fish. We really can’t put God’s will into a box, no matter how hard we try! Maybe a better approach is to see what God’s will looks like. What did Jesus do in the pages of the gospels? After all, if Jesus is God, then Jesus’ will is God’s will, too. What did Jesus choose to do?

Well, Jesus chose to do all kinds of things. Jesus chose to accept people. He met them where they were, and he was happy with their little baby steps as they moved towards a more authentic relationship with God. Jesus chose to teach people. He offered to lead them out of their ignorance so that they knew more about the God they worshipped. And Jesus chose to heal people. That’s the heart of the little story that we heard just a few minutes ago. It takes place early in Matthew’s gospel (Matthew 8:1-4). Jesus has called his first disciples and preached the Sermon on the Mount. He has already become known as a great healer. Matthew mentions that Jesus has healed those “with various diseases, those suffering severe pain, the demon-possessed, the epileptics and the paralytics…” (Matthew 4:25). Huge crowds are following him, hanging on his every word. Suddenly, he is confronted by a leper. “Lord,” the leper begs, kneeling at Jesus’ feet, “if you are willing, you can make me clean.”

It’s a challenge, although it’s a respectful one. We have to read between the lines to hear what the leper is really asking. “Jesus,” he’s saying, “you’ve healed all kinds of other people, but none of them had a disease that would kill them. None of those other folks were thrown out of society and left to die slowly all by themselves. What about me? Will you heal me, too? I know that you can heal me, but do you want to heal me? Are you like all those Pharisees, who tell me that my disease is some kind of punishment from God, or will you heal me so that I can go back to my family and my friends? Which is it, Jesus? What’s God’s will for me?” Jesus doesn’t hesitate even for a heartbeat. “I am willing,” Jesus voice rings out. “Be clean!” The leper is healed immediately.

The gospels speak with one voice when it comes to God’s healing power. God’s will is never that we be punished or isolated or afflicted. God’s will is always that we be healed and made whole, whatever our illnesses may be. The gospels are full of stories about Jesus healing all kinds of afflictions. Jesus heals all the senses. He opens the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf; he restores speech to the mute, and restores useless, withered hands. Jesus makes broken bodies whole. He makes the lame walk again, straightens bodies that are crippled, and even heals paralytics. Jesus heals fevers and stops chronic blood flows. He casts out all kinds of evil spirits that cause what we might call mental or emotional illnesses. Jesus even restores life to the dead.

I counted up all those healing stories; and you might be surprised at just how many there really are in the gospels. Mark has the fewest, at “only” 13 healings. But then, Mark is also the shortest gospel. Matthew contains 14 stories of healings, while Luke has the most at 16. John only offers 4 healing stories, but his gospel trumps the others in quality if not in quantity. John’s gospel tells us about the raising of Lazarus, the man who had already been in his grave for four days when Jesus restored him to life. And that count doesn’t include the many times that the gospels say things like, Jesus cured “all who were sick or possessed by demons.” If these are added in, too, the total number of healings mentioned in all the gospels is an astonishing 58 – and that’s assuming that I didn’t miss any! The gospels leave no doubt that God’s will is for healing.

So… where is God’s healing today? In this world of MRIs, EEGs, EKGs, and CAT scans, does God still heal? Of course! Where do you think the wisdom came from that led to the development of all those life-giving medical tests? Whose hand guided the development of the medications that save so many lives today? God still guides the insight of the research scientist and the skill of the surgeon’s hand. Why do you think so many doctors now pray with their patients before surgery? They know, too, that God is the ultimate source of healing. We are simply God’s agents who help bring about that healing! Of course, some wounds can’t be healed by taking a pill. But God has those covered, too. When an alcoholic stays sober for 20 years; when a bullied teenager regains her self-respect because friends stand by her and support her; when a bereaved spouse is able to reach past the chains of grief and loves again – that’s all a part of God’s healing power. God heals minds and souls as well as bodies. And thanks be to God for all of it!

So, when we pray the Lord’s Prayer, and we ask “Thy will be done,” I don’t think that we’re praying for good weather or a winning basketball team or a fat check to deposit in the bank account. Sure, all those things are nice; and we’re absolutely right to thank God for all the blessings that fill our lives. But when we pray “Thy will be done,” we’re praying for something much bigger than just a blessing here and there. We’re asking for the same thing that we’re asking for when we pray “Thy kingdom come.” We’re praying that all of God’s children might be healed of whatever is afflicting them so that everyone might be filled with the health and wholeness that God intends for all of us! Because that, my friends – that is God’s will.

 

Our Father...

This sermon is the first in a series on the Lord's Prayer. And it begins at the beginning. What does it mean to call God "Our Father"? My sermon offers at least one answer.

“Our Father, who art in heaven: hallowed be thy name.

It’s a respectful way to begin a prayer. But it’s also very familiar. We could begin our prayers by addressing God as, “Almighty God, ruler of the universe...” and sometimes, we do just that. But Jesus told us that we can call God, “Our Father…” That’s not a royal title like “Your Majesty.” It’s a family name, one that indicates a loving relationship. Father. Papa. Dad. Those names can remind us of summer days spent picnicking in the park, and winter evenings spent building a birdhouse that would be hung over the patio in the spring. It brings to mind firm, but gentle guidance; and times when we were told, “It’s for your own good.” It reminds us of advice freely offered to us, if not always gladly received (especially if we happened to be teenagers at the time).

Most of us are honored to be able to call God by such a familiar name; but some folks don’t feel that way. They’re the people who have experienced fathers as something negative. Their fathers weren’t very good ones. Some of them were beaten by their fathers. Others were ridiculed, or neglected, or even abused. People who have had experiences like that don’t want to call God “Father.” They don’t want to have anything to do with a God who ridicules or punishes or abuses the people who worship him. And I can’t say as I blame them. But Jesus never intended for us to experience anything negative when we call God “our Father.” Maybe it would be helpful to consider what Jesus did want the title “our Father” to say about God.

In Jesus’ day, the title “Father” had a very particular meaning. A “father” was in all respects the head of the household, responsible for the well-being of his entire family. A father made sure that there was food on the table, and clothing on the backs of his wife (or wives) and his children. A father taught his religious traditions to his children, making sure that they knew what god to worship, and what behavior that god required of them. A father arranged suitable marriages for his children, and welcomed new daughter-in-laws into his family after his sons married. A father was the family hub, the center of all the family activities, whether those activities were for business or for pleasure. That sounds like God, doesn’t it? God expects to be the hub of our lives, too. God is involved with every aspect of our lives, whether we’re talking about how we make a living, how we treat our fellow human beings, or what we do in our spare time.

But there’s another side to calling God “our Father,” and it’s one that we tend to forget. Because children in Jesus’ time depended on their fathers for almost everything; they were expected to obey him without question. After all, tradition reasoned, fathers have much more education, much more wisdom, and much more experience than their children do. They’ve lived longer! They know more! No good son would ever think of defying his father after he had been asked to do something! When we call God “our Father,” we are admitting that God knows what is best for us; and that we will do what God asks of us. After all, that’s what dutiful sons and daughters did in Jesus’ time. Good children listened to their father’s wishes and did their best to comply.

We’ve almost lost that aspect of calling God “our Father.” We’re ready to rely on God for our basic needs, but we seldom think about what we owe God in return. We’re good at doing our own thing, blazing a new trail, and marching to a different drummer; but obeying God? Not so much. But the truth is that whenever we’re in a relationship – as we are when we call God “Father” – that relationship always has two sides to it. God cares for us… and we’re expected to do something for God in return.

Now, when we talk about “obeying God,” we have to be careful not to fall into legalism. When many people think of “obedience,” they envision long lists of rules that they believe God wants us to follow. The Pharisees fell into that trap. How do you obey God? Why, you follow the rules! Do you remember what Jesus said about that? He called the Pharisees “whitewashed tombs” that were lovely on the outside, but rotten in the middle!

So if obeying God isn’t about following rules, what is it about, anyway? Amos told us. “Let justice roll down like mighty waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Micah told us, too. “What does God require of us? To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.” And certainly Jesus told us. When he was asked about the greatest commandment, he replied, “Love God with all your heart and mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.” In the end, obeying God isn’t about following a bunch of rules. It’s about trying to be as much like Jesus as possible: loving, just, merciful, courageous, and wise. After all, if God is our Father, then Jesus is our brother, and we should be living as much like Jesus as we possibly can! And how can we do that? Why, we ask God for help! We can’t possibly obey God unless God helps us do it!

You may remember the story about the boy who was clearing out a little plot of ground where he wanted to plant a summer garden. As he worked, he came upon a big rock right in the middle of the patch of ground. The rock was enormous! The boy tried to lift it out, pull it out, push it out, and dig it out, but with no luck. As he worked, his father came over to watch him. “I can’t get this rock out,” the child complained. “I can’t budge it.” “Have you tried your best?” his father asked. “I sure have!” the boy replied. “I’ve done everything I could do to move that rock.” “No, you haven’t,” his father replied. “You haven’t asked me for help.”

God, our Father, offers to supply everything that we need. In return, he asks us to live with justice, with mercy, with compassion, and with love. And he is ready to help us when those things are too hard for us to do by ourselves.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

What a blessing to be able to begin a prayer that way!

 

On His Father's Side

I preached this sermon on Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday before Lent. Why did Jesus allow the disciples to see him transfigured on the mountain? My sermon considers a possible answer to that question. You may find it useful, too.

“So, what’s his backstock?” I heard that question lots when I was growing up. Whenever I would mention the name of a new friend I’d made at school, my father would ask it. “So, what’s his backstock?” It’s a question related to “Where is he from?” But “Where is he from?” is mostly about location – he’s from Covington, or Troy, or Philadelphia – while “What’s his backstock?” is about family. What my father was really asking is, “Who is his father? Who is his mother? Who were his grandparents? And his extended family – who are they?”

Sometimes the answer brought a nod of approval. His family members were good, hard-working folks who sent their children to school faithfully and made something of themselves. Other times, my dad shook his head in disapproval. Oh, that was the family who had a lot of money, but never paid their bills. That family never lent a helping hand to others who were in need. That family was just out for what they could get. I never liked Dad to judge my friends by their family history, but he had a point – we are formed by our backstock.

I heard a song on the radio last week that asked the same question about Jesus. Those of you who listen to Bluegrass gospel may know it already, but I had never heard it before. It imagines the Pharisees asking the 12-year-old Jesus in the Temple about his family history. “What’s your backstock?” they want to know; and Jesus’ answers are revealing.

“What’s your name, boy?” they ask. “On my mother’s side,” Jesus answers, “my name is Jesus. But on my father’s side, they call me Emmanuel.”

“Where are you from?” they ask. “On my mother’s side, I’m from Bethlehem. But on my father’s side, I’m from the New Jerusalem.”

Finally, they ask, “How old are you?” The answer? “On my mother’s side, I’m 12 years old. But on my father’s side, I’ve always been here.”

It makes you think, doesn’t it? On his mother’s side, Jesus was a man just like all other men. He got hungry and tired, he got sore feet and a sunburn, and he put on a few pounds when he ate too much of Martha’s cooking. Maybe he even had allergies when the pollen kicked up in the springtime! But on his father’s side, Jesus was something very different – a part of God himself. Although he was born in Bethlehem, he had always existed. He helped to create the universe, and he sustains it by his grace. All the universe and all the time that ever existed can’t contain him!

Now, that’s very difficult for Christians to understand, let alone to live with. Although we believe that Jesus was fully human and fully divine, we tend to be lots more comfortable with one side of Jesus than with the other. My guess is that most of us are more comfortable with his mother’s side. We focus on the ways that Jesus is just like us. We appreciate the fact that he understands all of our joys and all of our hurts. We are reassured that he offers us friendship in all circumstances. But we can’t ignore his father’s side! Jesus isn’t just a warm, fuzzy guy who is always ready to sit down with us and share a cold beer while we’re watching the ball game. Jesus is the incarnation of the God who made us – the God who expects us to live with integrity and honesty and love for one other. It’s tough to keep both sides of Jesus in balance as we both love him and worship him.

It was tough for the disciples, too. They had to learn a lot about Jesus in only a couple of years! And they began by learning about Jesus from his mother’s side. They learned that Jesus was full of wisdom. They heard him interpret Old Testament teachings very differently than the Jewish teachers did, and they watched him go toe-to-toe with those teachers over fine points of the Law. They learned about the Kingdom from Jesus in ways that they could understand. They remembered Jesus’ parables that pictured the Kingdom of God as a mustard plant, as yeast in the middle of a batch of dough, and as a priceless pearl. And they saw Jesus provide for the needs of all kinds of people. They watched him drive out demons, heal a paralyzed man, and feed a huge crowd with five loaves and two fishes. But they hadn’t yet understood that Jesus was divine. So when Peter confessed that he believed Jesus was the Messiah, Jesus knew that it was time for his disciples to see his father’s side. They saw that side on a mountain, during the event that we call the Transfiguration.

Matthew tells us that Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him up to the top of a high mountain. While they were up there, Jesus was transfigured in front of their eyes. His clothing became radiant – as white as snow when the sun shines on it – and his face shone with heavenly glory. No less than Moses and Elijah appeared to talk with him. The disciples were overwhelmed with the splendor! If they had any lingering questions about whether or not Jesus was the Messiah, surely those questions disappeared in the glory of Jesus’ presence – the glory that could only come from God. Peter blurted out an offer to build three shelters – one for Moses, one for Elijah, and one for Jesus. Was Peter planning to stay on that mountain permanently to offer them the reverence that they deserved? We don’t know for sure. What we do know is that the words had no sooner left Peter’s mouth than a cloud of divine glory surrounded the disciples, and they heard God’s own voice proclaiming Jesus to be his own beloved son. There was no more doubt about who Jesus was on his father’s side.

And then – perhaps surprisingly – Jesus led them back down the mountain. Jesus may have been divine on his father’s side, but his place was among all the mortal human beings who are like his mother. Jesus had one more thing he needed to teach his disciples, now that they knew who he really was. On his mother’s side, his life would end on a cross on a lonely hill, executed by the power of Rome and surrounded by criminals. But on his father’s side – on his father’s side, Jesus would be raised in glory – raised from the grave after three days, and then raised to a throne in heaven to reign over all creation until the end of time. That’s what the disciples had to learn about this Messiah who was both human and divine.

And that’s what we have to keep in mind as the season of Lent begins. The Jesus whose face is turned towards Jerusalem – the one who is headed towards his cross – is the same one who will break the bonds on death on Easter morning. The cross will not be the end. Evil will not be victorious. Death has no claim on any of us if we live in Jesus! So you see, it’s really not important whether we would rather think about the human Jesus, from his mother’s side, or the divine Jesus, from his father’s side. What’s important is that, as his path leads through the cross on Good Friday to the empty tomb on Easter morning, Jesus is on our side!