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deliver us from evil, forgive, forgiveness, John Philip Newell, Matthew, The Lord's Prayer, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
What does one say about the prayer that Jesus himself taught that has lasted and been learned universally since? I don’t even remember learning the Lord’s Prayer – the Our Father. It has just always been a part of me, albeit not always followed to the letter. It seems sometimes that the most difficult part is the line that says, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive…”
I noticed this morning that the gospel didn’t end with the hope of being delivered from evil. There was an addendum of sorts (MT 5:15) that puts a fine point on the forgiveness issue, as if Jesus is saying, “Did you get that? Did you hear what I said? Let me be really clear about this.” It seems that if we don’t forgive others, God will perhaps withhold forgiveness from us. (If you forgive others their transgressions, your Heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions.) That was rather astonishing to me, given my perception of God’s love and grace. It struck me this morning as a deeper way to live the gospel – a sure way to share in bringing light to the world.
I had decided that most likely everyone who reads what I write would find those thoughts rather overstated, like something that we already knew and wouldn’t find it necessary to be reminded of…so I picked up John Philip Newell’s book, Praying with the Earth, in search of something more thought provoking. I found the prayer for Thursday morning (today) to say the following:
We wake to the forgiveness of a new day. We wake to the freedom to begin again. We wake to the mercy of the sun’s redeeming light, always new, always gift, always blessing. We wake to the forgiveness this new day. (p. 34)
Why am I not surprised? From the shock of thinking that I won’t be forgiven if I fail to forgive sometimes, I find myself reassured that I can always start over – every day – to try again. That doesn’t let me off the hook but it certainly helps me to forgive myself for my failure – which then gives the impetus to try again. So God is still the God who forgives me but that forgiveness is not a free pass to heaven. I am responsible to live always from a heart steeped in forgiveness of others as my very own self. Really and truly…every time.
The gospel in today’s lectionary is probably the most commonly known prayer in Christianity: The Lord’s Prayer, also known as The Our Father. The text is found in two of the four canonical gospels, Matthew (6:9-13) and Luke (11:2-4). Most of us know it as it comes from Matthew’s version, appearing in the middle of the Sermon on the Mount. Reading Luke this morning made me think that his version might have been easier to learn for children who had trouble memorizing prayers; it’s very succinct and yet seems to cover all the requisite items for our living. It comes in Luke’s gospel as the response of Jesus when he himself was praying and one of his disciples asked him to teach them to pray. Luke reports him telling them: “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed (holy) be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread and forgive our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us, and do not subject us to the final test.” Period – the end.
The prayer we know as “The Lord’s Prayer” or the “Our Father” can be found in two of the four canonical gospels – Matthew and Luke – and, although translations vary, the wording of the two is virtually the same. What differs are the verses that follow. Luke, chapter 11, gives an example of what Jesus meant by telling a story. Today we have Matthew’s version which tells people how they are to act when doing spiritual practice – not looking gloomy and neglecting their appearance so people know they are fasting, etc. (That always makes me smile as I know how easy it is to moan to let others know when I am in pain from some small injury or distress…). I noticed something in between Matthew’s directives this morning, however, that surprised me and made me wonder if I will ever have a new thought that doesn’t touch on our relationships in today’s world situation. (See the past few entries of this blog.)
When I was a child, memorization was the way we learned things like the multiplication tables or our spelling words. Repeating them over and over secured them in our memory so they became part of the fabric of our being. This happened with prayers as well. In early Christian monasteries, where some members were illiterate, the daily repetition of the Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary – up to 150 times a day or week – eventually had an addtional, deeper benefit. The constant repeating led people to a meditative state from where one might contemplate the mysteries of Christ’s life. Out of this practice the rosary was born.
Today’s gospel contains what is probably the most familiar text in Christianity. We know it as The Lord’s Prayer. (MT 6:7-15) Recently I listened to a series of lectures about the prayer by Neil Douglas-Klotz, a scholar of Aramaic, the language that Jesus likely spoke in his everyday life. I went looking this morning for his translation because I found it beautiful and expansive of what I have known since early childhood. I found first a comment about Aramaic, then a translation in first century Aramaic and finally, Klotz’s translation using more modern terms. I share them all here for those of us whose love of words affects the feeling level of our prayer and as one more way to connect to others on our planet who speak different languages but whose hearts are united.
