Forgive Us Our Debts

Pray then like 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 out debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

For if you forgive others their trespasses  your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

- Jesus of Nazareth (Matthew 6:9-15)

Edward Everett

Lincoln in 1863

It is a 35-minute drive from my house to Gettysburg, site of the most famous battle ever fought on American soil, and site of the National Cemetery which was dedicated November 19, 1863 as a final resting place for Union soldiers who fell in that battle.  At that dedication, a well-known orator by the name of Edward Everett delivered a two-hour speech consisting of 13,607 words, an oration which the world little notes nor long remembers.  Following his eloquent speech, the 16th President of the United States spoke 271 dedicatory words which the world has never forgotten.  Abraham Lincoln's little speech took just over two minutes to deliver, but it is noted as one of the great speeches ever given in the English language, or any language.  In just three paragraphs, Lincoln captured the essence of the American experiment and articulated the longing of all human hearts for freedom and equality.  It is appropriate that this speech has been memorized by millions of American school children in the years since; may it continue to be so.

What we commonly refer to as The Lord's Prayer (which may more properly be called "the model prayer," or "the disciple's prayer"), which Jesus taught to His disciples, is likewise a model of simplicity and brevity.  Jesus gave it to His disciples in response to their request that He teach them how to pray.  They may have been surprised when Jesus taught them not to heap up empty phrases, repeating them over and over, like many of the religious leaders of their day, but to pray simply, humbly and to the point.

In the centuries since, the Church has cherished the Lord's simple words far more than those of Lincoln, but we seem often to forget the rest of His instructions concerning prayer. We either repeat this prayer in an empty-headed, distracted kind of way as part of our formal or informal liturgies, or we ignore it altogether and ramble on in a cascade of words.  Worse yet, some pray this prayer in a rote way, hoping that the act of saying these precise words will merit them a blessing from God.  Would that we would use this prayer as the Lord intended, and teach it to our children and to those we disciple, as a model to follow - a model of both substance and simplicity!

Perhaps most egregious among our abuses of the Lord's Prayer is the glib way in which we speak the phrase, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors."  It shocked me when I realized that by praying this phrase, I am actually asking God to forgive me to the same extent and in the same way as I forgive those who have offended me!  What a horrifying concept!  To think that I become the example which I would have God follow in extending His forgiveness to me - one so desperately in need of His total forgiveness - causes my blood to run cold, and causes me to search my heart before I say the words.

It is instructive that this element of the prayer is the only phrase upon which Jesus gives commentary:  If you forgive others their offenses against you, your Father will forgive you.  If you don't, neither will He forgive your offenses against Him.  Very, very sobering indeed!  To be unforgiven by God is to be in the state which sends souls to hell - a very real place I never, ever want to see, let alone be confined for eternity.  

Jesus' model prayer is a profound motivation against holding bitterness or hardness of heart toward anyone, and should cause each of us to search our hearts to see if their is anyone from whom we might be withholding the very forgiveness we ourselves crave, and upon which our eternity depends.

"So Help Me, God?"

“I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States 

against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; 

that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion;

and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.

So help me God.”

Title 5, United States Code, § 3331

Upon being commissioned an officer in the armed services of the United States, an individual is required to take this oath of office.  The first time I took this obligation upon myself, it was with all those in my graduating class who were being commissioned second lieutenants in the U.S. Air Force.  On subsequent occasions relating to promotion, this same oath was administered to me personally.  I have also had the great privilege of administering the same oath to several other newly-minted officers, including my son, upon his graduation from West Point.  It is an oath that all military officers share, regardless of service, and it places each one of us under the common authority of our Constitution and those who administer it. It is that which binds all officers together, past, present and future.  We consider it sacred, and it governs the conduct of all our duties.

It grieves me deeply that, given the path our nation currently seems to be following, it seems inevitable that the words, "so help me God," should soon be deleted from the oath, or at minimum made optional.  By so doing, we formalize the notion that we do not need God, even though Jesus clearly said, "Apart from Me you can do nothing."  (It is also somewhat remarkable that the oath of the President, who is our Commander-in-Chief, does not contain these words, though he may add them at his discretion after the oath.)

Yet today I read a passage in which Jesus also commanded his followers not to have varying degrees of integrity:

“You have also heard that our ancestors were told, 

‘You must not break your vows; you must carry out the vows you make to the Lord.’ 

But I say, do not make any vows!

Do not say, ‘By heaven!’ because heaven is God’s throne.

And do not say, ‘By the earth!’because the earth is his footstool.

And do not say, By Jerusalem!’for Jerusalem is the city of the great King. 

Do not even say, ‘By my head!’ for you can’t turn one hair white or black.

 Just say a simple, ‘Yes, I will,’ or ‘No, I won’t.’

Anything beyond this is from the evil one.

Matthew 5:33-37

It seems the Jews of Jesus' day had gotten into the custom of fudging on their commitments by making their promises conditional, based upon the relative value of that to which they attached their promise.  If someone would swear by the temple, it was possible he would keep his promise, but if he swore by the gold on the temple, well, that was obligatory!  Jesus allowed for no such equivocation.  "If you say, 'Yes,' mean what you say.  If you say, 'No,' mean that as well.  Period."

There was a small flap last week about whether President Obama ought to place his hand on the Bible as he takes his second inaugural oath.  This symbol, recognizing accountability to God for his actions, is seen as objectionable to some.  Yet, what Jesus is telling us is this:  Whether we put our hand on the Holy Bible, the Holy Qur'an, the telephone directory or any other book is really irrelevant.  Whether we say the words, "So help me God," or not, it is still God to whom we will ultimately give account for our actions, it is still God who will judge us, it is still Jesus upon whom we are dependent, whether or not we acknowledge Him, for every single act, even so small as getting up out of bed in the morning.

So, say what you mean, and mean what you say, Jesus says.  "Let your 'yes' be 'yes,' and your 'no' be 'no.'  For His followers, the obligations are the same, regardless of the symbols.

The Many and the Few

Jesus traveled throughout the region...teaching...and announcing the Good News about the Kingdom.  And he healed every kind of disease and illness.  News about him spread...and people soon began bringing to him all who were sick.  And whatever their sickness or disease,

or if they were demon possessed or or epileptic or paralyzed - he healed them all.

 Large crowds followed Him wherever He went...

Matthew 4:23-25

At the outset of Jesus' ministry, one thing he didn't have was a shortage of followers.  The word traveled like wildfire throughout Galilee and the surrounding regions about this itinerant rabbi who had both the power and the willingness to heal, whose teaching was so different from that of the Jewish scribes.  More and more people sought him out, bringing their problems with them.  Graciously, he healed them, even as he taught them about God's Kingdom.  As the word spread, the size of his ministry increased rapidly. As we shall see in future posts, it wasn't long before the size of his ministry actually presented serious logistical problems!

Still, this passage of scripture indicates that many, if not most, of these people came to Jesus primarily in the hope that He would give them an improved quality of life.  What they wanted was life without sickness, life without pain, life without conflicts, disease or mental instability - and they hoped Jesus would provide this.  The hope of comfort and ease never fails to draw a crowd.

This multitude stands in contrast to that small band of men whom Jesus called by name with the promise of showing them how to "fish for people."  Peter, Andrew, James and John did not come to Jesus expecting a life of convenience or ease.  In fact, these few - and the others whom Jesus would name as Apostles - gave up the comforts of family and the stability of regular income in order to simply be close to Jesus.  Their desire was to learn from him, and share in this great movement called the Kingdom.

This contrast begs me ask:  Why do I follow Jesus?  Of which group am I a part: the ones hoping for comforts, convenience and a life free from pain; or I am of those - called by name - who simply want to be with him, come what may, believing there is no better place to be - in this world or the next?

Fishing for People

"Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!"

Matthew 4:19

There I was, sitting in the sand.  I can't honestly say that I was just "minding my own business, " but like Peter and Andrew in the passage referenced above, I was by the sea that day, wondering what I was doing there, when Jesus seriously interrupted and permanently redirected my life.  A third year Citadel cadet, I had actually had other plans that weekend than to be at a religious retreat.  But a friend had told me I'd be doing him a favor by going to the retreat in his place, since military duties had prevented his attending.  Since he offered me a paid reservation, and since my company commander had, inexplicably, granted a late-notice request for weekend leave, I sensed maybe God was nudging me to go.  Besides, it was mid-April, it was at the beach, and mid-April in South Carolina is a great time to be at the beach.

Saturday  morning of the retreat, the first event following breakfast was "quiet time," a phrase that, for this sophisticated college junior, only conjured up memories of kindergarten.  My first thought was that these folk seriously intended to lie down while their food digested.  However, still hopeful, I asked the guy sitting next to me what "quiet time" meant.  He said simply that I should take my Bible, go sit on the beach, and meet with God.  At first relieved, I suddenly realized I had a problem. Never having been to a retreat, it had never occurred to me to bring a Bible.  However, I discovered there were extras lying about, and taking one, sauntered out to the beach to find a place for God and me to have a little talk.

As I sat there, taking in the beauty of the morning, I quietly - and honestly - asked God what He wanted.  Further, I asked Him to show me through this book, with which I was only marginally familiar. Then, at a loss where to read in my borrowed Bible, I did exactly the same thing that I did this morning, and on many mornings since - I looked to the gospels.  Still not knowing which book to choose, I sought familiar territory. Eventually landing in the gospel of John, I began reading. 

It was in chapter 6 that Jesus seemed to grab me by the shirt collar and push verse 27 right up in my face.  In a remarkable way, I had the unmistakable assurance that this verse was his message for me.  In one verse, he answered my simple prayer, which explained why he had led me to this retreat.  "Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man shall give to you, for on Him God, the Father, has set His seal."

As I read these words, it dawned on me as clearly as the sun's morning rays lit up that Carolina beach, that Jesus was calling me to live my life for his priorities rather than my own.  He wanted me to follow him, and learn what it meant to work for eternal "food."  For me, I knew this meant a redirection as well as a redefining of my purposes.  To take Jesus up on this call was fraught with uncertainties, but I couldn't deny it was he who called.  What else was there to do but follow?  And that, as Robert Frost would say, has made all the difference.

In Matthew 4, Jesus called Peter and Andrew, James and John in a very similar way - devastating the Zebedee and Sons Seafood business in half an hour.  There they were, by the sea, literally minding their own business, when he interrupted their lives with an opportunity and a simple promise, "Come, follow me, and I will show you how to catch people."  Now people are much more important than fish.  People have eternal souls that will be saved or lost.  And, as Jesus pointed out to me so clearly that other morning by the sea, it is the eternal about which he is concerned, and the eternal  about which those who follow him are to concern themselves.

"I will show you how to catch people."  This promise reveals what Jesus is about.  It also offers a priority against which I may measure my own activities.  Since Jesus is always good for his promises, I can be sure that he will show me how to fish for people - if it is truly Jesus whom I follow.  Conversely, I may ask, "If I am not about the work of "fishing" for people, then who is it I am actually following?"

Lighting Up the World

                                  The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light.

And for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow, a light has shined.

Matthew 4:16

As a brand-new Aircraft Maintenance Officer straight out of technical training with the Air Force, I was assigned as Officer-in-Charge of the Propulsion Branch.  Our responsibility was the build-up and installation of aircraft engines, and the Branch consisted of a Jet Engine Shop and a Reciprocating Engine Shop.  (Reciprocating engines, in case you are wondering, are the old, piston-driven kind that turn a propeller.)  Of the 150 or so mechanics I supervised, the reciprocating engine mechanics were my favorite.  They were generally grungier, but more affable, took great pride in their work, and made better coffee than the jet engine guys.  One of these guys - a young airman - was a real character.

His name escapes me now, but he was kind of a real "flower power generation" guy.  He had a barracks room all to himself, probably because no one else wanted to room with him, but I think he liked it that way.  When other guys were working on cars or hitting the bars during their off-duty time, this guy raised plants and sewed.  No kidding!  His room was kind of dark, lit with the old "black lights," humid and cluttered with plants all around his sewing machine.  (I think the black, UV light, was supposed to help the plants grow, but I think maybe he was using the plants as a cover for growing a little Mary Jane.  I don't recall him ever getting caught.)  He had a sign on his door that read, "I must be a mushroom.  They keep me in the dark and feed me bull&#@!")  A real piece of work!  Of course, his room gave the First Sergeant apoplexy.

One of this guy's quirks was that, when he felt his room was closing in on him, a little too crowded and dark, he would sit in his closet with the door shut.  After a while, he would come out, into the light, and his room would seem brighter and bigger to him.  I guess it's a technique!  But after sitting in the dark, even a black-light-lit room seems bright.

Matthew says the people of Galilee were a people who, like my hippie-esque airman, sat in great darkness.  Only for them, it wasn't a darkness they could just step out of.  It was an oppressive, spiritual darkness.  It was a darkness of injustice, of ignorance and death - both physical and spiritual.  It was a darkness with no way out, and it ruled the lives of the people who lived there - many of whom were Gentile, non-Jews.  This was the land of Nazareth, where Jesus was raised.  Following his temptation in the wilderness, Jesus went back there, and took up residence in the nearby town of Capernaum, next to the Sea of Galilee.  Here is where he began his public ministry, teaching people that the Kingdom of Heaven was near - right at their fingertips - and accordingly, He called them to repent.  For them, Jesus' presence and teaching was like the brightness of light in a dark place.  Jesus offered freedom to those oppressed, hope to the hopeless, joy to the sorrowful and peace to the tormented.

Galilee reminds me of the airman's closet, but even more so of the culture in which I find myself every day.  There is an encroaching darkness spreading over the land: a darkness of spiritual deadness, of enforced spiritual ignorance, of spiritual poverty, of injustice, of calling good "evil," and evil, "good."  It is a darkness of  denial, murder, death and waste.  Yet, Jesus still brings light wherever he goes, and I am reminded that it is his purpose to bring that light through his people.  Remarkably, he taught his followers, in Matthew 5:14-16, "YOU are the light of the world...Let your light so shine that others may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven." 

Today, I want to be conscious that Jesus has assigned to me - as he does to each of us - the task of bringing his presence, his character, his message to those all around me who "sit in great darkness."  And it is my prayer that we,  his followers, will band together in love, accepting His purpose of bringing great light wherever we serve.

The Competitor

"If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become loaves of bread."

Matthew 4:3

As much as Jesus is our example of perseverance in running the race, it must be said that He did not run alone, without competition.  There is another in scripture who stands as one who doggedly and with determination pursues his goal, from one garden to the other, from Eden to Gethsemane, and beyond.  He appears tireless, and does not seem to accept defeat.  He uses every means at his disposal to accomplish his purpose, and he is a dirty competitor.  He is, of course, Satan.

In the broad scheme of God carrying out His purposes for humankind, there are a number of critical, and even strategic, points at which Satan shows up, points at which, were it not for the superiority of God's grace, he might have permanently undone God's plan of redemption.  In the life of Jesus on earth there are several of these critical moments, as when Herod sought to eliminate any Messianic competition by murdering all the male children in Bethlehem and its environs.  Another such moment was in the garden the night before Jesus' crucifixion. Mel Gibson, I believe, rightly alluded to this in his movie, The Passion of the Christ, by placing Satan, in his classic form of a serpent, there at Jesus' side as he prayed for strength to accomplish the task for which he had been sent.  In a beautiful - and biblical - image, Jesus finally crushes the serpent's head under his foot.

The past two days, I have been looking at another of these critical moments in Jesus' earthly life and ministry.  Matthew 3 records Jesus' baptism by his cousin, John.  As Jesus comes up out of the water, he has an experience that He must have recalled over and over again in the years of his earthly ministry, one repeated during two other recorded events in the gospels.  In this moment of "fulfilling all righteousness" (3:15),  Jesus - and presumably, John and those present - audibly hears the very voice of the Father from heaven say, "This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well-pleased."  I believe this voice was not just for the sake of those observing, but to give assurance to Jesus Himself, based on what happens next.

Immediately Jesus is driven (Mark 1:12) by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness, where he fasts (and prays, based on a true understanding of biblical fasting) for 40 days and nights.  By the morning of the 40th day, Jesus is very hungry.  His flesh demands food, and in his flesh he would like to satisfy that craving.  And he could have; all he had to do was leave the wilderness and get something to eat!  Except for one thing:  the Spirit had not given him leave yet of his fast. 

At this critical moment, the devil - so faithful to his purposes - shows up and offers Jesus a simple solution.  "Didn't God say, 'This is my beloved Son?' Well, if you are the Son of God, you must be able to turn rocks to bread!  Hey, go for it!  And by the way, this will prove what you thought you heard back there at the river.  By doing this, you will kill two birds with one stone:  you'll satisfy those annoying hunger pains, so you can get on with praying without distraction, and you'll satisfy any doubts you may have about whether it was really God's voice calling you His Son.  Such a deal!"

Well, I wondered, what would be so bad about that?  Where in the Bible does it say that God's Son cannot make bread from rocks if He wants to - or needs to?  Wasn't He there at creation?  Didn't God make all things through Him?  What's the big deal?  Just this:

1.  It would have tested God, violating Deuteronomy 6:16, as Jesus pointed out in response to one of Satan's other attempts.  Thus He would have disobeyed God.

2.  In doing so, Jesus would have acted independently of the Father, by Whose authority He had been sent to the wilderness to fast and pray.  As He had not yet indicated to Jesus that His fast was over, by taking matters into his own hands, Jesus would have been disobeying God.

3.  It would actually have been an act born of doubt, not faith.  By responding to the phrase, "If you are the Son of God," to satisfy his fleshly cravings, Jesus would actually have been giving in to doubt.  And the Apostle Paul tells us, "Whatever is not from faith is sin" (Romans 14:23).

4.  It would have been a selfish misuse of his authority and power.  When we see Jesus use his supernatural powers in later chapters of the gospels, it is always on behalf of others, always for the purpose of ministry, never by some self-centered whim nor to satisfy himself.

For these reasons, if Satan had succeeded in convincing Jesus to turn rocks into food, Jesus' ability to accomplish the redemption of His people would have been impossible.  He would no longer have been the spotless, sinless Lamb of God, but a tainted sacrifice liable - as we are - for his own sin.  And Satan would have won.

The evil one is so subtle.  He will challenge us to disbelieve and to disobey.  In those moments, we must not cling to personal "experiences" nor even to voices from heaven, audible or otherwise.  In those moments, we need to look to our champion - Jesus - who, though he had every right to claim God's words spoken very personally to him, relied on the writtten word of God, and said, "It is written, 'People do not live by bread alone, but by every word which comes from the mouth of God."  Jesus depended on the written word to validate God's spoken word, not the other way around.  Thank God he did, and God help me to do the same!

"Help me, Lord, to know when I am being tempted, and to fly to Your written word for strength, and for guidance, and to dispel the lies of the one who would defeat me."

On "Hitting the Wall"

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. Think of all the hostility he endured from sinful people; then you won’t become weary and give up.

Hebrews 12:1-3

I've put many, many miles on my running shoes over the years.  I've been in 5Ks and 10Ks, I've taken innumerable physical fitness tests, run on track and roadway, in the country and in the city, in 95 degrees with humidity to match, and when water was freezing on my eyebrows.  I've run at sea level and at 9,500 feet.  I've run sprints and jogged, done interval training that made me want to heave up my insides, and puttzed around on easy "fun runs."  But one thing I've never done is a marathon.  

Marathons are really hard.  26.2 miles of grit and determination.  In 490 B.C., the first marathoner, Pheidippedes, actually died after he ran this distance to deliver the news of the Athenian victory over the Persians at Marathon!  (Evidently he didn't know how to train properly.)

I'm told by those who have run marathons that there is a point - around 21 to 23 miles for most - at which physical exhaustion sets in, and the runner feels like he has nothing left with which to go the distance.  This is commonly referred to as hitting the "wall."  At this point, the runner is faced with a decision: settle for the considerable distance he has already run, and call this a victory, or press on through sheer determination and strength of purpose.  To do the latter, he had to be prepared in advance to finish the race no matter what.  He had to understand that the only acceptable distance for him - or her - would be 26.2 miles.  Nothing less.

The writer of Hebrews tells us that the Christian life - the life of faith in Jesus as both initiator and perfecter of our faith - is not a sprint, it's not a "fun run," nor is it a 10K.  It is like a marathon.  Each follower of Jesus is called to "go the distance" in a long race that is grueling at times.  With this in mind, I wonder where it is in this faith journey that we "hit the wall."  Is it when trials come?  Or when conflict with others discourages us?  Or is is when horrific events - like the mass murder of children in Newtown, Connecticut, or the slaughter of movie-goers Denver, Colorado - followed by the reasonable scoffing of unbelievers, cause us to begin ourselves to question the goodness or existence of God?  Or maybe when self-serving or subversive politicians succeed only in reshaping our nation into an unrecognizable version of the country we've known and helped to build?

If these assaults constitute "the wall" in our faith journey, then perhaps I've hit it, or am approaching it.  Lately, in spite of the joys of holidays with loved ones, I've noticed something of a creepy chipping away at my spiritual vitality, and it seems to be linked to a number of the things above.  Not that all have come at once; it's more cumulative, more insidious, over time.  Deaths of good friends, the heartache of my daughter's two failed pregnancies, the loss of hoped-for opportunities, misconceptions of God's leading, disappointment over my own lack of spiritual progress, all seem to combine with the incredible sufferings of those around me and across the globe to lull me in the direction of a certain spiritual lethargy.

So what to do?  The Hebrews author says what I need is endurance.  I fully agree.  Like the marathoner who hits the wall, I need something to go on - fuel from somewhere outside of my own resources.  He tells me that I get endurance by keeping my eyes on Jesus, who is my champion, my example, the one who has blazed the trail ahead, the one who has finished the race, and endured unspeakable suffering along the way.  He is now at the finish line, cheering me on.  Yet He is also in my heart, and has given me His word, and whispers to me, "I am with you, and I love you, and you will finish this race.  Go on!"

To that end, this year I am laying aside my habit of reading through the entire Bible during my daily time alone with God, in favor of focusing my attention on Jesus alone.  My journey this year will be through the gospels - with occasional side trips to other portions of scripture for commentary - just to gaze at Jesus.  My hope is that this will provide the spiritual fuel for the journey ahead, whether long or short.  Thing is, I don't know whether I'm at the 22-mile point, or the 25th.  None of us does, but I, for one, really do intend to finish, with Jesus' help. I hope to share with you what I observe and experience along the way.