WALKING IN DARKNESS


But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!
(Matthew 6: 23 – NAS)

Following what he said in the previous verse, about keeping our vision, our eyes, clear, Jesus now addresses the alternative. 

What if we do let our sight “go bad”, what happens to us and those around us? Jesus says that your whole body will be full of darkness. 

Studies have shown that a patient’s mental outlook can affect the progress of their recovery from illness or surgery. When the patient is optimistic, when he lives in a spiritual state of hope and acceptance, the progress usually is quite good. But when the patient is depressed, things do not go as well. One could say that metaphorically, a depressed patient is “full of darkness.” 

What are those things that can cloud our vision, and bring darkness into our lives? 

Broken relationships certainly have the power to throw shadows over us. The loss of the light of a joyful relationship leaves us in the dark night of pain. It almost doesn’t matter how the loss occurs – whether the relationship itself turned sour or we simply lose someone to death. We grieve in the loss, and suffer the pain of the broken connection. 

Anxiety about work or income can also smother the light in our lives. Our sense of responsibility to our obligations can weight us down so much that our eyes are focused on the ground in front of our feet. We worry about planting the next step forward, so much so that our vision gets clouded and we cannot see at all. 

When we let our own internal light grow dark, hiding all that is within us, we also smother the light that ought to be shining out to others. 

We are sensitive to each other’s conditions. We have any number of expressions that describe what is basically this spiritual darkness – “under a cloud” and “he’s in a really dark mood” are just two of them. We can tell when someone else is not just having a rough time, but is caught in a fist of darkness. 

And we prefer to avoid such people. Perhaps we fear contamination of the mood. Distress that is flooded with dark fears feels toxic to other people. No matter how much they may love you, when you have let your inner light be turned to darkness, their instinct is to stay clear of it. 

I think that is why Jesus says “If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” 

Remember, He has already told His followers that they are the light of the world, that they should shine brightly and fill their houses with light. And just before this, He has described the inner light we should all be nurturing as being a lamp to the body.  

When we take darkness into ourselves, no matter what the source of the darkness is, we affect far more than our own conditions. When we carry darkness with us, it travels around us like a cloud, raining our sorrow or distress or anxiety on those around us. It touches them and affects them, and brings shadows into their days. 

How then are we to avoid this? What can we do? 

Jesus will have something to say to that in a few verses, but for the moment, the best answer is to choose light. However we can imagine that, even if it is simply giving thanks. 

We do not have to stay walking in darkness.

BRIGHT EYES


The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light.
(Matthew 6: 22)


When we talk about happy and joyful people, we often speak of them having “bright eyes”. Something about our internal state of being shows in our faces, and in particular, in our eyes. 

The eye is the organ we use to see what is around us. So it seems a bit odd for Jesus to compare the eye to a lamp. The eye does not, in fact, give out light the way a lamp does. It is “just” the means by which we see light. So how can the eye be a lamp to the whole body. 

Jesus uses the metaphor to get us to consider how we view the world around us. For our attitude shapes our physical conditions in many ways. 

We talk of those who have romantically optimistic outlooks as looking at the world “through rose colored glasses.” We mean that they are seeing beauty and softness where things are in reality otherwise. We know it is a delusion of sorts, pitiable, because eventually the Rose-Glasses Wearer will have to come into blunt contact with how things really are. 

There are those who accuse believers of deluding themselves, of wearing rose colored classes and refusing to see the world as it is. And the accusers are not just non-believers, but often fellow Christians who in their “greater” spiritual maturity seek to discourage others from following delusions. 

But seeing the world through rose colored glasses is not the same thing as seeing the world in the light of God. Filling ourselves with the light of God lets us walk IN the light, and it lets us see clearly those things around us. 

Having clear sight means that one does indeed see the world as it is, all the petty squabbles, the hazards and obstacles that get thrown in the pathway of each of us. Having clear sight means that we know and understand the difficulties around us. But it also means that we do not let what we see “cloud our judgment” or thwart our energy and determination. 

Jesus says that when our eyes are clear, we become filled with light. This taking of light into ourselves is not a benefit to us alone, but rather also to those around us. If we are filled with light, how can we not be a light to others? 

We live in a cynical age. We live in a depressed age. Life is not easy and things are not rosy, not when we consider the over-all state of things. As believers we do need to see the world as it is. How can we see hunger and thirst (whether for righteousness or mere foodstuffs) if we do not see clearly? How can we see conflicts where we can be peacemakers if we do not see clearly? How can we see repentance that calls for mercy, if we do not see clearly? 

Our trust in the Lord’s providence cannot be based on a rose-colored vision of Pie in the Sky. It needs to be based on a clear perception of what is happening around us, and what the Lord is doing. 

But to be filled with light and to see the world in and through that light means that we have to let go of our cynical approach to life. Things may be harsh and difficult, but in the light of God’s presence in our lives, we can also see the possibilities for His Glory to shine in our actions. 

“With God all things are possible.” 

That doesn’t mean that things do not remain harsh or difficult. Of course they do. But it does mean that we ourselves do not have to become harsh or difficult as well. If we are filled with light, if we are a lamp indeed, then we can throw light on the world around us and change what is most immediate. And if we spread our light just a little bit to others, they also begin to take on that light, adding to it. 

I’ve tried to live by this, though I haven’t always succeeded. The very next verse, Jesus speaks of those who let their vision get clouded, and Lord knows I’ve done that! But choosing to clear my vision of the dark clouds has lightened my inner being. It doesn’t make the problems less, or the difficulties easier. But I am not so much one who “dwells in darkness.” 

We must take care when we see our fellow believers bright with hope and optimism. We should carefully nurture them and find out if they are indeed seeing clearly or not. We should not assume that their happy brightness glows through a rose tinting. It would be very easy for us to discourage others by treating them as deluded dreamers. We are told to encourage each other, to lift each other up. 

Are we letting the light in? 

And more importantly, are we letting the light out, to shine on others?

KEEPING A TREASURE HOUSE

 
Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal. for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
(Matthew 6: 19-21 – NAS)

 
Jesus wants us to hold the objects of this world very lightly. He tells us this because He knows our capacity for caring about things deeply. 

It is built into our nature to cherish something, almost anything. We are creatures who invest our hearts in things, and He does not consider this tendency a bad thing. Note that He does not tell His followers to avoid treasuring anything. Instead, He tells them to “store up treasures in heaven.” 

What does He mean by that? 

Well, first He reminds us that the things of this world are transient. They are not going to last, one way or another. Moths and rust can destroy objects. Of course, those are not the limits of erosion and corrosion. But He’s not trying to give us a full list of all the natural ways objects can be worn down; He’s just trying to get us to recall that nothing this side of heaven is permanent.  

But beyond the natural wearing-away of things, He also reminds us of human nature. Thieves can break in and steal those objects we hold precious. Someone can simply take away our treasures, snatching them out of our hands. 

Once again, Jesus makes it clear that His followers will not be living in a perfect world here. He’s warned them that they will be persecuted. He’s told them to be peacemakers – which means there will be conflict. He’s instructed them to resolve their conflicts before worshipping – indicating that even among themselves their human natures will still clash from time to time. And here, He reminds them that there are those around them who might steal their belongings. 

He conveys all this quickly, in order to get to the important thing: where your heart is, that is where your treasure is.  

If your heart is settled in the objects you possess, when those things are broken by age or stolen by a thief, what then happens to your heart? You are broken and devastated by the loss. And if your attachment to the object is so great that you cannot recover, what does that do to your relationships with other people? 

That is the challenging thing in His words here. He tells His followers to store up treasure in heaven. But what does that mean? What can we possibly store up in heaven? It is clear that He is implying that the things of this world are not likely to be in that heavenly storehouse. How can we convey that family heirloom chair into heaven? What moving service will do that for us? 

We have to look back and consider what He has said about the kingdom of heaven. 

When we do that, we start to realize that what He is talking about is our relationship with God, and after that, our relationships with others. For that is where the kingdom of heaven lies. And the kingdom of heaven is eternal (“for Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever”). 

Why do we find it so easy to invest our hearts in objects? 

Well, for one thing, they do not intentionally hurt our feelings. They are not willfully contrary and they do not challenge us or jeer at us. If they are beautiful, we enjoy their beauty and that fills our hearts with pleasure. That’s not a bad thing in itself.  

God created a universe filled with beauty and when He was finished doing it, He said “It is good.” And He stopped and gave Himself a space to enjoy His creation. When we look at scripture and see that this is how God began His own interaction with creation, how can we believe that He does not want us to appreciate the beauty of created things? 

Where we get into trouble is when we begin to invest such intense feelings for the objects in our lives that we care more about them than we do about the people in our lives. Objects cannot return love to us – they have no love to give. Love is a reciprocal activity. It needs interaction. It needs give and take. An object can do neither of those things, not really. 

I have four pieces of inherited furniture. They are lovely pieces. 

One piece is a graceful table, which had been made by a great-aunt, the sister of my father’s mother. A single woman, that I don’t know all that much about. My understanding is that one of the ways Aunt Dot earned a living was by taking the pre-cut pieces and assembling them. She would do the finishing carving, sand it and stain the wood and put the sealing finish on it. Whenever I consider this table, I’m reminded of the challenges single women faced in the past, the limits of what they could do to take care of themselves, and Aunt Dot’s response to that circumstance. It seems a streak of independence runs in my family. This beautiful table came into our household when I was still very young. 

The second piece is a sideboard with a hutch which I inherited directly from another great-aunt, Aunt Lucy (from whom I got my middle name). I remember it in her house when I was tiny, and so I connect her presence with the object. Since I was still very young when she died, the sideboard was put to regular use by the family. It often served as a buffet for holiday dinners when we entertained. My understanding is that it came from Lucy’s own parental home, giving it a history that reaches back to the late 1800s. 

The third piece is an armchair from my grandparents’ home, one that I remember my father’s mother sitting in when we would visit them. My memories of her picture her sitting very lady-like in that chair, in a pool of light by the window of their living room. 

The fourth piece is a carved chest that was given to my parents as a wedding present. All the sides of it, except the bottom and back, are carved with intricate panels of people in an oriental garden. There were many Saturday mornings where my dusting duties included giving close attention to the chest, dusting into the crevasses of the carving, for there were many tiny places for dust to lodge. 

Each of these pieces hold many memories of the past, of my personal experiences with them, of the people associated with them, of the family history attached to them. They are precious to me. 

But they are precious to me mostly because of the people. They are lovely in their own right, of course, and so they would be very hard to part with on those grounds, for I do love things of beauty. But what truly makes them “treasures” to me are the connections to my family – my Aunt Dot, who I met only once or twice, who met the challenge of her single life by creating something of grace and beauty; my Aunt Lucy, who also lived single and who spent most of her adult life serving as a missionary in India; my grandmother Winifred, who always seemed to me the model of a lady and yet who never was anything but delighted by her rambunctious grandchildren when we invaded their house every other year; and my parents, who had an amazing partnership of love and appreciation for each other. These are the true treasures I hold in my heart. The pieces of furniture, much as I do love their beauties, are only touchstones for the real treasure. They are, for me, physical manifestations that quietly and constantly invoke the beauty of the people associated with them. 

Our relationships, with God and with each other, are the treasures Jesus wants us to store up. Relationships between souls are eternal things. True treasures give our love back to us in relationship. 

Objects can give us pleasure, yes, and there is nothing wrong with pleasure. God takes pleasure in His creation. But pleasure is not Love, it is not the interactive connection of hearts to each other. Why do we give our hearts to objects that are not only transient, but cannot return love to us? 

Love is the most precious treasure we can have, and it is the one best protected by being kept in the storehouse of heaven.

FAST ATTENTION


Whenever you fast, do not put on a gloomy face as the hypocrites do, for they neglect their appearance so that they will be noticed by men when they are fasting. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. `But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face so that your fasting will not be noticed by men, but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. 
(Matthew 6: 16-18)

 
Once again, Jesus reminds His followers not to engage in religious practices for the purpose of being noticed by others. Time and again, He reminds us that the Lord give attention to our secret activities, the things we do when nobody else is watching. 

He’s said this of praying in public, and giving in public, and now He says it of those who make a big show of going on a fast. 

What, after all, is the purpose of a fast? 

These days, a lot of people seem to regard it as a period of depriving themselves of foods that they enjoy, “giving up” something special in order to show their devotion to God. After all, that is what a sacrifice is, isn’t it? Giving up something you value, in order to show God your devotion. 

It certainly seems to be how people approach the matter of giving up something for Lent. Sacrificing a pleasure like chocolate, or a daily stimulant like coffee. “All for you, Lord!” And then they spend the forty days of the Lenten season whispering and grieving the loss of the sacrificed item. Because the Lord is so pleased that you are giving this to Him with a joyful heart. 

Oh, yeah, right. That’s supposed to be part of the picture, isn’t it? 

Fasting is a challenge. Our bodies do need sustenance. They function better when properly fed. Our brains work better when they are powered by good food. 

But we can get too comfortable with eating regularly. And our systems can get a big sluggish when well-fed. 

A fast is a way of cleaning out the system. When we have gone without food for a time longer than the usual between-meal span, we become much more aware of what we are missing. The wonderful sustaining power of water is best recognized when we are thirsty, when we have gone without for some time. We drink the water, and we can feel the body rejoicing at receiving it. When we engage in a fast, much the same thing takes place, in a slightly more complex fashion. We become aware of the extended sustenance gained from good proteins, the relaxing satisfaction that comes with a small degree of fat, the energy that sugars in food can provide. The fast has made us conscious of what we take for granted. 

When we fast for religious purposes, part of it is to clear away distractions from the presence of God. Earlier in the Sermon, Jesus spoke of hungering and thirsting for righteousness. Engaging in a fast lets us act out that metaphor, to come to something of the sensation of hungering and thirsting. And when we break that fast, we can thank God for the food and meditate on how His presence should be to our hearts and minds what the food is to our bodies. 

At least that is what it is supposed to be. 

So why the impulse to make a production number out of our fasting? Why announce to others that we are going on a week long fast, wherein we will only consume juice? Why proclaim that for Lent we will be giving up cookies of all sorts? 

Part of it is the desire for accountability. We let others know our intentions so that they can help us stick to it. Rather like publishing our New Year’s Resolutions, by announcing our intention to fast we invite our friends to hold us accountable. 

But also, perhaps, there is the impulse to show off. “Look at me! I’m going to take on this challenge, just for the Lord. I want you to know just how holy I’m being here!” 

And it is THAT impulse that Jesus speaks to, when He says that “they have their reward in full.” If the faster was doing it for attention, he’s gotten it. But it’s not an intention that gives God any pleasure. 

The Lord sees those things which we do in secret. He’s paying attention. And when we choose to practice a fast in order to draw nearer to Him, it pleases Him and He is there to meet us. 

So I will tell you a little secret of mine. 

Often on Sunday mornings, I do not have anything to eat before I head to church. 

Okay, I admit that it began in part because I often dawdle in the mornings, and then run late. In the preparations to get to church, taking the time to fix something to eat gets shunted aside. My life is not so physically demanding that I have a great need to take in some calories in order to start the day. But the more it happened, the more intrigued I became by my experience at worship because of it. 

It really hit me with a thump one Sunday when Communion was served. Since I grew up in the Protestant tradition, weekly Communion was not part of my religious practice. But on this occasion, when I came to the chancel for the elements, I was much struck by the fact that I was there not having yet broken my daily fast. 

“This is the body of Christ, which was broken for you for the forgiveness of sins.” 

“This is the blood of Christ, which was shed for you that you may have life eternal.” 

Is this not a sustenance far more important than the intake of a few calories that will be burned off once I start moving about? 

After that, more and more, it became part of my preparation for worship that I NOT have breakfast before church on Sunday. I began to have more of a sense of wonder about what Jesus says regarding “hungering and thirsting for righteousness.” 

I’m not talking about arriving at church in an “I’m about to pass out from hunger” state. Rather, it is simply a matter of having, for this one day, put nothing, not even my own sustenance, ahead of spending time in worship of the Lord.  

I mention this not to draw attention to the fact that I do this. That’s sort of the point of what Jesus recommends, when he says, “Wash your face. Put on your best, so that no one knows you are fasting.” It’s not a production number for public consumption. I mention it to show what you can gain in the practice. 

I’m sure that there are others who have their private practices of fasting, who have taken to heart the Lord’s words about not drawing attention to their activities. I hope they too find that surprising pleasure in meeting God while unfilled, hungry for something more.

THE BARRIER OF UNFORGIVENESS

 
For if you forgive others for their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions. 
(Matthew 6: 14-15 – NAS)


So, Jesus has finished His “example prayer,” but wants to make sure His followers understand a very key point in the prayer. He wants to be certain that we grasp at one thing that can stand between us and our Father in heaven.

Unforgiveness.

The love of God is unconditional. We should never doubt that. He does truly love us with all of His being. But even though that love is indeed unconditional and perpetually available to us, that does not mean that it cannot be obstructed. 

Access to God’s love and forgiveness requires an open channel between our hearts and His. And the one thing that can block that up, that can choke off the flow, is a failure to forgive others. 

Why should this be so? 

In simplest terms, unforgiveness is a failure to love others. When we do not forgive others, we have shut them out of our hearts. We close the door on any connection to that person.  

But God is Love, and needs “open doors.” God cannot enter in, if we have closed off our door to anyone. He can stand outside knocking (“I stand at the door and knock.” Rev. 3: 20), but He has to wait for us to open the door to Him. 

It’s easy to fall into regarding these two verses as a sort of quid pro quo, we do this for God and He’ll do that for us. We can fall into treating the act of forgiving others as if it were just another duty. We don’t always think about it as being necessary to our relationship with God. 

Yet, every small unforgiveness is one thing standing between us and the full love of God. 

And there’s another thing that gets in the way of our being able to fully commit to forgiving others: we actually find it easier to forgive strangers and those outside our intimate circle than it is to forgive those who are “inside our defenses.” 

How easily we hold on to the small resentments and hurts that our loved ones inadvertently – or intentionally – inflict upon us. And because they are small things, we “don’t bother” addressing the need for forgiveness. “Sue was in such a rush yesterday, she stepped on my foot. And my toe is all black and blue because of it. It hurts.” “I know Bob was joking yesterday, when he made that quip, but because of this other set-back I had, it really cut me to the quick.” “Terry was certainly trying to give me wise advice and counsel. But that one recommendation might as well have been a knife to my heart!” All these things we carry around, never mention to the people involved, and brood over. “How could they not know how badly they wounded me? They don’t really care, that must be it!” 

And so we harbor resentment. We let our sense of injury find a haven in our hearts, and with each little pile of misery, we close the door a crack. We keep the clutter of resentments around, because individually they don’t seem all that big a deal, not realizing that the whole collection is becoming so big that it is shutting the door. 

And God is standing outside that door waiting to come in. 

And then one day, the door is closed, and we look around and wonder where all that light and joy went. How did the door get closed? Where did God go? Why isn’t He here? 

And we start thinking that He is the one who left us. 

The reality is that we let our massive collection of unforgiveness push Him right out the door. We have become hoarders of the emotional garbage of our own lives. 

It isn’t that God won't forgive us if we do not forgive others. It is that He cannot. Forgiveness requires the very touch of His hand on our hearts. It requires His presence inside our hearts. And if we’ve pushed Him outside, leaving Him on our doorstep, what can He do? 

The danger for us is that we can delude ourselves about how connected we are to the Lord. After all, every day, He stands on our doorstep waiting for us. Others go by and say “Oh, look how wonderful! The Lord is at Sam’s house!” We step outside our heart-house and go about our daily business, and the Lord walks with us, and others think it’s wonderful. We’re doing so many of the actions Jesus has told us to do, and obviously He’s at our elbows. But others may not realize that when we go home to live with what is inside our hearts, we haven't made any room for the Lord to actually come in. 

Why do we hold on to this emotional clutter? It tastes bitter and unpleasant. It does not nourish us in any way. It eats away at our energy and joy. So why do we hold onto all the little resentments, angers, and injuries? 

Perhaps because we’re afraid that if we let go of them we will have nothing inside. At least with the resentments we know we are feeling something. If we let go of those, what have we left? 

If we let go of them, if we sweep them out of our hearts, what we have left is a wide, open space in our hearts, in our lives. for God to fill up with Himself. The Glory of God stands at the door of our hearts waiting to come in, if we would just get rid of the junk, if we would just forgive everyone who has trespassed against us.  

What do we get if we forgive others? Oh, nothing more than all of heaven taking up residence inside us. 

All we need to is cast open that door and sweep out the clutter of unforgiveness.

TEMPTATION

 
And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil. [For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.]
(Matthew 6: 13 – NAS)

 
When I was younger, I would vaguely wonder why the request was “lead us not into temptation.” Why would anyone think that God would lead us to temptation, for isn’t temptation about all those things that we might want but shouldn’t have? God doesn’t deal with us that way, does He? At least, I had not found it to be so.

So why does Jesus include this here, this way?

He certainly knew that we would be tempted by things we met in the world. Relationships we ought not to have, because it would disrupt other sanctified unions. Objects that belong to someone else and we have no rightful claim to possess. Can we really hope to avoid all those things? We’re going to encounter them every day. So how would this work, this not-being-led-to-temptation?

We can quickly dispense with the idea that God would intentionally dangle in front of us those things which could cause us to sin. He does not want us to sin, so why would He even create situations where our weaknesses would allow us to fall into wrong behavior? He just wouldn’t. So Jesus must be looking at something else with this prayer petition.

“Do not lead us into temptation.”

It could be that in this petition we are asking to be led by paths that will not provide those delicious distractions. I’m sure we’ve all wanted occasions where we could just get on moving forward in peace and calm, with nothing that would delay us or distract us from our destination. 

“Make a pathway straight before me. Do not let me be distracted by things I might want.”

Except ... let’s be honest here: we do like the occasional temptation, and we do give into them when they come alongside us. A temptation here, to distract myself from a chore by enjoying “just one” television program. And four hours later, I still haven’t gotten to the chore. A temptation there, to indulge in an excessive meal, because after all, I’m a bit hungry. And four hours later, satiated and drowzy, whatever task was at hand is still sitting there waiting.

There are so many temptations to act inappropriately, that we sometimes forget about the temptations to feel inappropriate reactions. To give into fatigue and frustration and wallow in our helplessness resentfully. And then it becomes inaction that tempts us, to do nothing, to say nothing, to stop moving.

So perhaps it is not such a bad idea to ask Our Father to lead us away from such situations. “Steer us rightly, Lord, so that we may stick to the course we’ve set.” 

The second part of this particular petition seems far more clear. “Deliver us from evil.”

We all call for deliverance at some point or another. Deliver us from joblessness, from debt. Deliver us from this war. Deliver us from this drought. Deliver us from this oppressive situation. “Help me, Lord! I can’t do it myself!” Whether it is a matter of being literally stuck in a whole in the ground and needing help in climbing out of it, or a metaphor for emotional stresses we are enduring, Jesus makes it clear that we have the right and priviledge of calling upon the Lord for help in time of need.

But Jesus is going beyond our simple needs here. He had addressed those with the “daily bread” request, after all. Here He tells us to ask for deliverance from evil. I think this covers not just the consequences of our own poor choices but also the evils that might be directed at us intentionally by others, evils we may have accidentally entered into by whatever means. 

“Deliver us from evil.”

Get us out of the places that will keep us far from You, Lord. Get us out of the circumstances that stand between us and Your love. Gather us from the places of poverty of heart and spirit and deliver us into Your realm of plenty.

Do we really want to stay stuck in our ruts?

I think a lot of times we do not want to look too closely at our circumstances. We’d rather just roll along without disrupting our usual patterns, even if they are not the easiest things in the world. We don’t really want to consider them “evil.” They’re just “difficult.” Because, if we asked God to deliver us from them, we have no idea what He would put us into next. Deliver us from this to what?

Five years I knew I was stuck in a rut, and I couldn’t see a way to get out of it. So I asked God to turn my life upside-down (only requesting that I get to remain in my apartment). Which He promptly proceeded to do – bringing new people into my life to inspire me, preparing me for a change in job and then actually changing that. I was delivered from the old circumstances. Perhaps I have not made the best out of the new circumstances. And I certainly feel in need of deliverance from my current problems. But I want it to be a deliverance of the best sort: debts paid, tasks completed, and then learning the new territory, which (God willing) will be even better. I know that God is mighty to save. I know that He is a strong Deliverer. Yet, I feel I am waiting for it to happen, because I certainly cannot make it happen on my own. And all the while, I hold onto the request that I be delivered from evil. Please, Lord, let no evil thing come near me, and keep me safe.

These are not inappropriate requests for us to make of our Father. We’re not asking for special treatment in this prayer that Jesus taught us. We are asking for God’s love to be poured out upon us in some specific ways that affect our daily lives.

And the reason we can do this is included in the (apparent) interpolation that ends the prayer.

“For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.”

Our Father is the one with the power to make these things happen. It is His realm we are in, after all. But more than that, it is His glory to spread His love over us. We don’t have a remote uncaring divinity watching over us, who may or may not choose to answer our requests. We have a loving Father, who knows our most secret prayers, and brings His power to bear on matters like our daily bread. The creator of the universe, who holds myriad galaxies in His hand, as if they were light playthings, that is who we petition for our small matters. And His glory is that He does not think they are small matters!

Amen.

So be it. We close and affirm and commit ourselves to our prayers. We need to remember that. The words are not rote to God. Our Father treats them as if we really mean them. So we should pay attention to what we are saying. We are asking for these things to be. Let us not be tempted into thinking we are doing anything less than asking the power and majesty of the Creator to enter into our small petitions.

Amen and amen.