DEBTS AND TRESPASSES


And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.
(Matthew 6: 12 – NAS)


When I was young, the church I went to used “trespasses” in the Lord’s Prayer. I did, of course, know of the other translation. It would be one of the things when traveling, when we would visit a church somewhere. Were we to be debtors or trespassers?

I would think about how we see those as two different things, very different it seemed to me. So how was it that whatever the Greek word was at this point would translate acceptably as such different things?

To my young mind, I understood the need for forgiveness of trespasses. That word (and the negative aspect of it) was fairly easy to grasp. “No trespassing” signs were a common plot device in many older cartoons, so even the very young could follow that it meant the you weren’t supposed to intrude on someone else’s territory. From there it was easy enough to extend it outward and see that any act when infringed or damaged someone else’s “territory” whether physical or psychological or spiritual was a trespass of sorts. An injury of sorts.

So it was easy enough to understand the need for forgiveness of trespasses. Especially if you committed the trespass unintentionally.

But debt was a different matter.

A debt, to my youthful mind, was something you owed someone else, usually because they had given you something. So what did it mean to ask that our debts be forgiven?

When you’re young, you think in the most basic terms. In this case, money. Suppose I owed my brother a dollar, if that debt is forgiven, I don’t have to give a dollar back to him.

On the one hand, that seemed like a very desirable thing. Especially if I no longer had a dollar to return to him. I wouldn’t have to worry about his constantly asking for a dollar I no longer had to give him. But on the other hand, it seemed kind of unfair. After all, I had gotten the benefit of the dollar. Didn’t he deserve to be repaid?

Of course, there is a condition on this. “As we forgive those who ....”

Ah, ha! So this isn’t just a blind waving away of all the things we got wrong, intentionally or otherwise.

How well do we forgive others, when they trespass against us, when they are in our debt for any reason?

It’s human nature to remember injuries done to us and debts that are owed us. When we are intruded upon, we feel the damage. When we give out of our means we know we have shortened our own supply in order to benefit someone else. We remember these things because they are significant.

But to forgive them? To set them aside? That’s not so easy.

Most all of us keep a mental ledger of injuries and debts, whether we admit it or not. Quid pro quo, this for that, is a very common factor in life.

At this point, we start to realize what a difficult process forgiveness is. Yes, certainly, we desire to have our own infractions forgiven. To know that we are relieved of the burden of knowing we have injured someone, that is a joyful feeling. But our sense of justice balks at being relieved of our debts to others. We know full well that we have benefited from something given by someone else, something they gave out of their own means. But to be forgiven our debt to that person means it’s likely they will never receive a recompense for what they gave out. That just doesn’t seem right.

The weight of indebtedness can be crippling. So much of our life has been supported by the assistance of others, in so very many ways. From the small debt to the person who made way for us in the grocery line because we were in a rush and they only had one item to the person who helps us out financially in a major emergency. The small debts we accept easily enough. The big ones we often respond to with “You don’t know what this means to me. I can never repay this!” Often when we say that last one, we are talking not about the debt of the actual money, but rather the significance of the help at that moment.

To have debts like that forgiven is to lighten our hearts, to let us accept the gift and bless the giver and move forward without being entangled in trying to balance things out on our own.

But Jesus in instructing us to pray this way is making us equally responsible for how well we extend this grace to others. “As we forgive those who have trespassed against us, as we forgive our debtors.” We are asking to receive just the type of forgiveness we give to others.

Which is where I come to a screeching halt.

So, it is not just about asking to be forgiven for my own mistakes and injuries I have done. It was easy enough to ask for that, for the Lord knows that I’ve made those mistakes and committed those injuries – many inadvertently, but some intentionally. It is about how well I can let go of requiring retribution or restitution for what has been done to me or what I have given others.

That’s not so easy.

“You hurt me.” We want our injuries to be understood and acknowledged. We want the other person to apologize, to ask for forgiveness.

But that’s not what Jesus seems to be supporting here. He doesn’t say “Forgive those who have injured you only when they ask for it.” He’s saying that basically we are to be living in such an attitude that we can forgive even as things happen to us. Pretty much the way God goes about it. In some ways, forgiving injuries can become easy. We can humbly endure the blows of the world, and forgive the striker even as the blows fall.

Forgiving debts as we go along is not as easy. If we loan someone money, on the understanding that it IS a loan, we expect a return on it. That’s reasonable, that’s fair, and when we’re the debtor, we understand that. It’s why we fall into great distress when we cannot repay such a debt. It is fair and right that our benefactor be repaid. When we are the one who has given something out, we expected a return at some point. It takes a lot of strength to let go of that expectation.

When we get beyond mere money matters and into other types of debts, we don’t often pay attention to the fact that we do regard them as debts. “I helped you with that thing, I expect you to return the favor.” That type of thinking lingers in the backs of our minds. Quid pro quo. We want to feel that we got something out of our actions.

“Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”

Forget about asking for return favors from those you have helped. If they give back, it is grace. But not because of quid pro quo.

That is what Jesus wants us to strive for.

Forgive us as we forgive others.

I know I am in desperate need of forgiveness – we all are. However careful I am, I know it’s possible to do injury to others. There are debts of caring and support and encouragement that I can never repay fully: the givers cannot possibly know how deeply important some small gift was at the moment they gave it. I need forgiveness.

How well do I forgive others? That’s where I trip up. Am I holding on to some unvoiced expectation of recompense for something? Am I harboring the sting of a wound I received? Am I holding on to the memory of something given that went seemingly unacknowledged and never repaid?

Maybe we need to add something here: “Help me to forgive, Lord, because I’m not very good at it.”

Happily, the forgiveness of God is more far-reaching, deeper, all-encompassing than we can possibly imagine. But we still need to learn how to do it ourselves.

DAILY BREAD

Give us this day our daily bread.
(Matthew 6: 11 – NAS)


It’s so simple and straightforward. What more needs to be said?

A lot, actually.

Jesus will have more to say later about how anxious we get about our basic needs, but here He pares it down to the most immediate element.

We need to eat.

And by teaching us to pray for this, Jesus makes it clear that God knows this is necessary to us. Our bodies need sustanence in order to function.

But He also is pointing out that we don’t need a lot to be functional. “Our daily bread.” The basics of what we need to get by. Fuel for energy.

He doesn’t tell us to ask for feasts, for treats, for favorite foods. He tells us to ask for the staples of life, our daily bread.

That’s not to say that He thinks there is anything wrong with feasts or treats. But just that it isn’t what we should be focusing on or spending our precious time asking for.

And it’s our daily bread. Not tomorrow’s bread. Not next week’s bread. Today’s.

I once wrote about this and spent time discussing the length of time required to prepare bread for a day. That usually a household would spend a portion of the day baking and preparing the bread needed for the next day. I observed that for us, that meant that part of today’s job was preparing the basics for the next day.

I’m not going to say I was wrong about that, because often, that is indeed part of what our day ought to be concerned about.

But here and now, I think I will cut even closer to the bone. Jesus says we are to ask for what we need to eat today. And I think He wants us to believe completely that God always responds to this particular part of the prayer.

We tend to hold back when things get tough for us. We keep looking forward to tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. If we are short on money, and don’t know where the next dollar will come from, we start thinking “Well, I don’t need to buy that sandwich today. I had some meat yesterday, and if I don’t think about it, I can get through the day. I’ll drink a lot of water, that’s it. Besides, I need to lose some weight.” So, we don’t eat, because we don’t know if we’ll have money for when we get really, really hungry tomorrow.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

I’ve been as anxious about tomorrow as anyone. I’ve put off eating today because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get anything tomorrow, and if I could just get through today, that’s one more day along, and I’d be able to get bread tomorrow. I’ve been acting as if my prayer was “Get me through today, Lord, so I can get bread tomorrow.”

The Lord wants us to pay attention to the here and now. We have no guarantee about “tomorrow.” The world could break apart in the next hour. There is only this moment, and God is in this moment with us.

We need to eat.

“Give me this day the daily bread I need.”

Not what I want, what I need. What I want would be a nice slab of fresh prime rib beef, with horseradish, mashed potatoes with a touch of garlic served with butter, fresh green peas still firm, a salad of greens and other garnishes with juicy sliced tomatoes with a Thousand Island dressing. That’s what I want. What I need is some protein and energy, maybe in the form of scrambled eggs on toast, maybe some liquid yoghurt.

Daily bread.

We’re not being presumptuous to ask for basic food needs. We are not being frivolous with money when we buy the sandwich we need right now instead of paying some bill.

God knows what we need. He knows our prayers before we lift them up. What He loves is that we come to Him in our need. But He wants us to stay focused on the immediate. It’s not “Stock my cupboard with all of this week’s meals.” It’s not “Make sure there is always something in the cupboard, just in case.” It is “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Here. Now. What we need.

I admit it. I find it hard some times to stay in that middle ground. I either want my kitchen so stocked up that I have a multitude of choices about what to eat, or I start holding onto the pennies so tightly I start thinking “I only have X amount of dollars. If I don’t eat today, I can go buy foodstuff tomorrow and I’ll be one day further along.” On that second option ... just how foolish can I be? If I don’t eat today when I am hungry, I spend the day hungry and not as well focused on the work that is immediately in front of me. I won’t be any better tomorrow. On top of that, having not eaten today, when I go to the store tomorrow, I will be shopping hungry, and thus inclined to spend more on edibles that are less than necessary.

We need to trust the Lord when we pray this. And act as if we really believe that He will provide for our daily needs, no matter what.

It’s easy enough to do when we are prospering in even very modest ways. We give thanks over our food and roll onward. The challenge is when supplies are short, for whatever reason.

“Give me this day my daily bread.”

And the Lord provides.

GOD’S WILL BE DONE


Your kingdom come.
Your will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.

(Matthew 6: 10 – NAS)

We pronounce this part of the Lord’s Prayer all the time, but do we ever think about what we are saying? We know the words, that is certain. And we often pray for “God’s will” in our lives, by which we usually mean “Keep me from making stupid and sinful mistakes.”

Do we really think about what it means to call for the coming of God’s kingdom? To ask that His will be done in the here and now the way it is done in heaven?

What does that mean, anyway?

What do we know of heaven and its actions?

For one thing, we know that obedience to the will of God is constant and immediate. When the Lord says to one of His angels “Go”, the angel goes. It does not become a matter of consulting a schedule, or checking availability of transportation, or finishing off some other task first. It does not involve arguing with God about timing or finances or personnel needs. God says “Do this” and it is done.

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

What is it that we think we are praying about when we repeat these words?

Are we expecting to see other people all around us jumping to do God’s will? That somehow, in some vague way, the design and desire of the Lord gets fulfilled by some mysterious and invisible means?

Are we paying any attention to what we are asking? To what Jesus has already conveyed about what the will of the Lord is?

Are we, any of us, ready to be humble, merciful, righteous, meek, steadfast according to the descriptions given in the Beatitudes? Right here? Right now? On earth as it is done in heaven? I don’t think we are. We may recite the Lord’s Prayer every morning of our lives, and then the minute we step out the door, we forget about fulfilling God’s will here on earth the way the angels leap to His directions immediately.

We chastise and rebuke our friends when we think they are flaking out – and we forget the Lord’s call to speak and act in mercy toward others. Our dignity becomes offended and immediately we demand the recognition due to us – and we forget about being humble and meek and trusting that the Lord knows our worth. We hold to our own understanding about what is needful in circumstances, ready to fight for “the cause” – and we forget that we have been instructed to be peacemakers not warriors.

And that is just asking for God’s will to be done in the world! Do we ever think of what we are asking when we seek “God’s will in my life”? We are usually thinking “Dear Lord, please let Your will be the same as what I want to do – let Your will be that I get this job, finish this task, have this relationship.” Do we ever think God’s will might be the exercise of courtesy and mercy to the clumsy and forgetful waiter that served us yesterday? Or being the peacemaker who yields to the roadhog jerk driver who cut us off on the freeway, making us miss our exit?

Instead, we pray for God’s kingdom to come, and the exit our homes expecting to be treated like kings.

God gives into our hands the authority of heaven: it is ours to command, to do His will here and now on earth as it is in heaven. And what do we do with it? We drop it on the doorstep, and go out into the world anxious, feeling helpless and downtrodden.

What are we thinking? We ask that God’s kingdom come, but we don’t look for it. We tell ourselves that it will happen “Someday”. “The Lord will come ... someday. But we can’t know the day of His coming.” But that is about the Lord’s return physically to the world. His kingdom is already here, among us. Jesus told His followers this time after time after time, and yet we still don’t “get it.”

The kingdom is here, now. We call for it and it is with us immediately, on earth as it is in heaven.

Perhaps we do not have eyes to see or ears to hear. Perhaps we are just closing our eyes and ears to the presence of God’s kingdom around us.

“Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

I’m not very good at the instant obedience. I want to discuss things, plan things, evaluate things. “As it is in heaven” – that’s a real challenge to perform. Or the simplest thing in existence.

FIRST THINGS FIRST


Pray, then, in this way:
"Our Father who is in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name."
(Matthew 6: 9 – NAS)


Jesus had just told His followers not to bombard the Lord with meaningless repetitions, not to make a big display of their acts of prayer. He realized that they needed a model for intimate simplicity, and so He gave us this prayer that we call “the Lord’s Prayer.”

Jesus wants us to remember just who we are having the prayerful communication with.

“Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” (Deuteronomy 6: 4-5 – NAS) This was something the ancient Hebrews were supposed to remind themselves of every day. But human nature being what it is, it’s probable that people fell into not paying attention to what they were saying (if they did recite it) or not saying it at all.

And then there is, of course, the other biggie: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before Me.” (Exodus 20: 2-3 – NAS)

When He had spoken about the making of oaths and vows, Jesus had addressed the matter of the holiness of the name of God. This was a matter that many Jews took very seriously in that day (as many people do today), to the degree that they would not say aloud “I am that I am” in Hebrew at all. There developed a cloud of alternate names and titles that stood between the believer and the Divine, to such a degree that all sense of true intimacy had been removed.

Jesus changed that. Not only did He remind those who listened to Him that God behaved towards His creatures as a father does to his children, the Lord desired that level of familiarity and intimacy. Jesus did this by telling His followers to address the Sovereign of the Universe by calling Him “Father.” Our Father. Not some remote personage. Not some entity who belonged to someone else. Our Father.

“Who is in heaven.” Because we need to be reminded that this world is not the only thing. God is beyond all this, even though He is simultaneously right in the midst of it.

“Hallowed be Your name.”

We don’t really hallow much these days. Not in the sense of making things truly holy. We have this impulse for reverence, this desire to give that devotion to something. But we tend not to pour it upon God, the one object that ought to receive it. Instead, we “hallow” sports stars (as long as they stay winning) and entertainers (as long as their works stay “good”). We “make holy” victims of accidents and senseless crime. I don’t mean to say that these people are not worthy of our respect. They often are. But we confer upon these fellow humans more devotional energy than we ever direct at the Lord God.

Do we pray as if God were the Divine Answering Machine, taking our messages and delivering the goods to our doorstep like pizza?

I think we do, far too often. And I’m as guilty of that as the next person.

Jesus wants us to remember firstly that God is God. God is Holy. We come before the Lord, the most awesome presence existing. His name is hallowed, and we need to remember that.

But ....

We may also call Him “Father.”

Not just any father. Our Father. My Father.

For those who come from damaged homes, where their relationship with their father is riddled with abuse, neglect, folly, it may be hard for them to connect with this. Such people know intuitively what their relationship with their parents should have been. But because they suffered so badly, the very word “father” may have terrible resonances. They cannot get beyond the contamination their worldly father brought to the title. Perhaps that is why Jesus included the qualifier “who is in heaven.”

The Lord is what any father ought to be: loving, protective, the provider of shelter and food, supportive of his children.

And He is ours.

Jesus tells us to look beyond whatever we have known or experienced in life, to look to the Ultimate and know that the Lord is here for us, always. Both unbearably holy and pure while also being envelopingly intimate.

I was recently thinking about the Lord’s Prayer, partly thinking ahead toward writing this and the following posts and partly because my circumstances have made me focus on my complete dependence upon the Lord. I mulled over how Jesus moved toward teaching this prayer to His followers. I thought about how I’d learned the prayer at a very early age in Sunday School. I remembered how as a child dusting the knick-knacks in the house each Saturday morning, one of the items was a lovely smallish shell with the Lord’s Prayer carved on it: I would pause and read it every time I dusted it. I know the Prayer well.

But, because of my circumstances, it occurred to me to look at the Prayer a new way – or at least, new to me. I was so used to the plurals in the Prayer, our Father, our daily bread, our trespasses (or debts). But what if...? What if, instead, I made it personal?

“My Father who is in heaven, hallowed be Your name.”

I was shocked at the change within me when I made it personal. The “community-think” of using the plural terms has the power to still keep the Lord at a distance.

Jesus wants us to pray with deep intimacy. God is holy and God is intimate. In your “prayers in secret” let God come close.