It feels as though the world is on fire. Would you agree? As though hearts smoldering with rage are responsible for every news story, behind every social media post, maybe even beating inside our own chests. The brokenness of our world is so real and present, we could almost reach out and touch it.

Frankly, it seems like an odd time to be discussing The Lord’s Prayer. Shouldn’t we focus on fighting for justice? Wouldn’t time be better spent shoring up arguments for what’s right? Should not our prayers be bigger and bolder than daily bread and forgiven debts?

Perhaps. But also, perhaps not. I’ve spent a good bit of time thinking about and repeating the Lord’s Prayer the last several weeks, and grown certain of one thing: This prayer is a gift from the Living Christ to those he left behind; to us. And it wasn’t a gift to be reserved for football huddles or hurried benedictions. This prayer is a gift for such a time as this.

In dark days like these, it’s easy to think we’re the only ones who have ever experienced a time so rife with evil; that ours are problems unheard of. And yet, when we consider the original recipients of Jesus’ model prayer–his first disciples–we’re reminded they were on the brink of the darkest moment in history, followed by a time of uncertainty and persecution that make our current climate appear tame. When Jesus answered their request to “teach us to pray”, he knew that just a short time later, they’d watch him die a gruesome death. He knew most of those listening would be thrust into a world in which they were despised, and eventually killed, because of him. And he gave them 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.” (Matthew 6:9-13, ESV)

These words weren’t meant for seasons void of suffering. We know this because they were meant for disciples of Christ, and the life of a disciple is one in which suffering is to be expected, even embraced. These words weren’t meant to be a mere template, laid aside when we feel as though they’re not strong enough for our present situation. These are the very words of the Living God, meant to stand against the most horrid displays of evil. These are words that reflect the heart of the Savior, meant to transform our own hearts, that our desires may come to match his own.

It’s true there’s nothing magical about speaking these exact words. And it’s right for us to make our specific, personal requests known to God. And yet, it’s also true that the words of Christ are words worth repeating.

As I’ve prayed this prayer, it’s taken root in my heart, and the Spirit has used it to minister to me in moments of fear, anger, doubt and despair. This one prayer has shaped my other conversations with the Lord, as well as the words I’ve spoken and choices I’ve made as I remember it throughout my day. Here’s what it’s looked like:

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.

When the ground beneath me felt like shifting sand, these words whispered the truth that we’ve been adopted by the One whose name is holy and hands hold all things together. Remembering the God who sees and remains has given me an anchor and a hope.

Your Kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

When I’ve been tempted to put too much stock in decisions of political leaders, or place my trust in the power of humans, these words have reminded me that all nations will fall except one, and that we are but pilgrims here. As we make our way to our forever home, we’re tasked with joining Christ in the work of making this place look more like that future one.

Give us this day our daily bread.

I often feel as though I don’t have enough. Enough patience or perseverance; time in the day; wisdom. Yet, God has used these words to show me how limitations allow us to more deeply depend on him. The same Spirit who provided manna in the wilderness and multiplied the loaves and fishes dwells in us and promises to give us what we need.

Forgive us our debts as we also forgive our debtors.

When the sin and anger that infects the world feels personal and pointed toward me, my flesh longs to hold a grudge and hand out revenge. But these words have whispered a reminder that we walk in the freedom of forgiveness undeserved, and encouraged me to extend the grace Christ died to give us.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

When the darkness of the world tempts me to get lost in the muck of angry rhetoric and endless doomscrolling, these words have lifted my eyes back to Christ, who overcame evil itself so that we could do the same. I’m reminded that deliverance doesn’t come from more information on our screens, but from more knowledge in the truth of his Word.

Friends, when it feels as though the world is burning before our very eyes, we have a choice. We can choose to let the rage consume and distract us. Or, we can remember the different kind of flame dwelling in us: The Light of the World. The One who walked among us so that we might be united with him again. The One who gave us words to pray when all appears lost, so that we might once again know that we are found and kept and need not despair. His way is better. His words are sufficient. May we pray them in faith. May we allow them to transform our hearts into his likeness. For his is the kingdom and power and glory, forever. Amen