The Lord’s Prayer - Glenn Conjurske

The Lord’s Prayer

by Glenn Conjurske

In entering upon a discussion of the Lord’s prayer, I am of course quite sensible of the fact that I may thereby be falling from grace in the eyes of some of my fellow dispensationalists, most of whom will vehemently contend that the Lord’s prayer has no application to us, and especially that it is not a model for us to follow—-that we are neither to pray its words nor its substance. I am not of their mind. I believe rather that the substance of this prayer is pre-eminently calculated to lead the saints in the way of truth, and build them up in their most holy faith—-not that it was ever intended to be said as a form. How constantly, for example, do I have occasion to pray, “Lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from evil.” Have others no need of such praying? Some, no doubt, think that they have, and probably pity my weakness and ignorance—-a privilege which I grant them. I am sorry enough for my own weakness, and feel deeply enough my own ignorance.

Yet it is for those who refuse the Lord’s prayer for themselves to prove that when the Lord said, “After this manner therefore pray ye,” he meant “ye Jews,” and not “ye saints.” I know their alleged proofs very well, and allege in return that they have overlooked some of the most obvious facts of the matter. But more of that anon. What I must contend here is that it is a plain and indisputable fact that there is very much in the sacred Scriptures which applies to all the saints of all dispensations. It is always true, for example, that “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.” There is doctrine in this which concerns the unchanging nature of God, and doctrine which applies to every dispensation. Neither will it do to say that the synoptic Gospels have been superseded by Paul, for the plain fact is, there is very much doctrine concerning both God and man, in both the Gospels and the Old Testament, which has never been either repeated or superseded by Paul. Where does Paul teach anything like “Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled”? Paul never once mentions either hunger or thirst, except in the purely physical sense, yet these are great spiritual realities, and shall be as long as God is God and man is man. They are as applicable today as ever they were—-and there is certainly nothing in Paul which either repeats or repeals them.

Some dispensationalists, however, following in the wake of Lewis Sperry Chafer, are very determined that the whole sermon on the mount, in which the Lord’s prayer occurs, shall be “the law of the kingdom”—-that is, that it shall not apply to the church at all, but only to the future kingdom. Such an interpretation, however, is certainly false, for one of the petitions in the Lord’s prayer is, “Thy kingdom come,” and it goes without saying that no one will be praying for the coming of the kingdom after it has already come—-any more than they will be “persecuted for righteousness sake” in the coming kingdom. It is a little strange to hear men fault their brethren for praying for the Holy Ghost after he has already come, or for praying for a forgiveness which they already have, while they hold a doctrine which has men praying for the coming of the kingdom after the kingdom is already come. This manifests no more intelligence than we see in the hosts of Amillennialists who pray by rote, “Thy kingdom come,” while they believe that it came nineteen centuries ago. It really seems almost unaccountable that such a host of dispensationalists could all together overlook facts so obvious, but I believe there is an explanation for it. If they had been half as determined to understand the true application of the sermon on the mount, as they have been to eliminate any application of it to the church, I believe they would not have overlooked some of its most patent features. Henceforth let all reasonable men set it down as an established fact that whatever the application of the Lord’s prayer may be, it certainly cannot have its application during the future kingdom. A man does not keep asking “Will you marry me?” after she has said “I do,” and men will not be praying “Thy kingdom come” when the kingdom has come already. This much I take to be established beyond cavil.

But there is something more. This prayer is Scripture, and it is Paul who informs us that “All Scripture is inspired of God, and profitable.” Whether, then, we are to pray this prayer or not, we are certainly not to ignore it. It is profitable “for doctrine.” Some may most heartily wish that Paul had rather said, “All of my epistles”—-or “all of my prison epistles”!—-but what he actually did say is, “All Scripture is inspired of God, and profitable for doctrine.” And by “doctrine” he certainly did not mean mere historical or speculative theology, such as satisfies idle curiosity, resides only in the intellect, and bears no relationship to practical godliness. No, “All Scripture is profitable . . . for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” It is profitable, that is, to correct us when we are astray, and to lead us in the way which we should go. And all of this to the end “that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.” Some, we realize, who have attained “the higher life,” or “the deeper life,” stand in no need of reproof, or correction, or instruction in righteousness. But some of us, who flounder yet between the higher and the deeper, and are too dull to find the way up or down, are glad to avail ourselves of “all Scripture.” Nor will I take it ill if those who are above or below me impute it to my weakness that I am not able to envy them as much as they pity me.

But come along, laying controversy aside for a moment, and “taste and see” that the Lord’s prayer is good—-harmless, to be sure, but deeply spiritual besides. Its pre-eminent spirituality is just what we would expect from the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth, and it is its pre-eminent spirituality to which I desire to call particular attention.

It is a very instructive fact that when the Lord teaches his disciples to pray, he begins the prayer with, “Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.” (Matt. 6:9). This is his first petition, and this is no accident, but rather a precious revelation of where his heart was. Let him but begin to pray, and his first thought is not for himself or his own wants, nor for the perishing world around him, but for the name of his Father. “Hallowed be thy name—-Let thy name be sanctified.” Let thy name, that is, be treated with reverence. Let thy name be held sacred.

How this sets him apart from the rest of the human race! The men of the world scarcely ever think to pray at all, unless they have some pressing need. Others pray indeed—-that the fish will come to their hook, that it may not rain for their picnic, that the police may not catch them speeding, or that they may win the lottery. As for the name of God, they have no care for that. It may be on their lips a hundred times a day, but only as profanity. “Oh, my God,” they say, or “Oh, Lord,” every time they wish to express themselves forcibly. Thus speak thousands of those who yet regard themselves as Christians, and thus do they prove that their hearts are at the very opposite extreme from the heart of him whom they profess to follow. Thus do they daily prove how little concerned they are to hallow the great and glorious name of God. They rather take his name in vain upon every occasion, or no occasion, using it as a mere interjection or expletive. Such ought to consider that the first and dearest thought of Christ is to hallow the name of God, and that this Christ is the soon-coming judge of the world. How will men fare under his judgement, who daily trample under their feet that which is dearest to his heart?

But this petition of Christ sets him apart not only from the men of the world, but from most of the saints of God as well. When we approach the throne of God to pray, how often is it our first thought to pray that the name of the Lord may be sanctified? Do we not usually pray rather after the manner of Jabez, who “called on the God of Israel, saying, Oh, that thou wouldest bless me indeed, and enlarge my coast, and that thine hand might be with me, and that thou wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve me”? (I Chron. 4:10). I would not so much as hint that there was anything wrong with the prayer of Jabez. God approved of this prayer, for the next words tell us, “And God granted him that which he requested.” Nor can I be content merely to contend that God approved of this prayer. I further contend that he was well pleased with it. This was a prayer of faith, which gave God his place as God, as the great fountain of every blessing, and the giver of every good gift, “who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not.” Jabez expected no rebuff for this prayer which was so full of “me” and “my”—-and he received none. Indeed, much of the Lord’s prayer, which he gave as an example to teach us to pray, is occupied with petitions for ourselves, and God is surely pleased if we pray after the manner in which the Savior taught his apostles to pray.

But for all that, the prayer of Jabez did not rise to the level of spirituality which we see in the Lord’s prayer. The Lord had needs also—-knew what it was to be hungry, and no doubt brought all such needs to his heavenly Father, as he teaches us also to do—-but his first thought was for the glory of the name of God. Is this our first thought also? Zealous we may be for the name of our God, and sincerely devoted to his cause, but all of this may exist on a much lower level than that which the Lord here enjoins upon us.

And next, “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” Nothing yet for ourselves, but only for the cause and purpose of our God. Amillennialists might be taught by this petition that the kingdom of God is not yet come, but many premillennialists, who expect and await that kingdom, might here be taught how distant their hearts are from that spirituality which pervades all of this prayer. If their first thought is not for the name of God, no more is their second thought for the coming of his kingdom. The bank account, the house and yard, the automobile, the job, the family and friends—-with all of these the heart is so engrossed that the kingdom of God has but little place in it. There is, it must be understood, a certain spirituality of heart and mind requisite before a man can sincerely pray as the Lord here directs. Before we are moved to pray “Thy kingdom come,” we must first begin to feel the darkness, the wickedness, and the hopelessness of this present evil age. Professing Christians who take pleasure in what they suppose to be the progress of modern civilization, the enlightenment of modern times, and all such chimeras, are in no condition to pray, “Thy kingdom come.” The Lord Jesus felt the real state of things upon this earth, and no doubt felt it deeply and keenly, and his heart turned instinctively to the coming kingdom, when the will of God will be done on earth as it is in heaven. His first longing was to see the name of God, which is every day profaned, to be held sacred, and his next longing was for the will and authority of God, which are every hour spurned, to be established in the earth.

But though this prayer is pre-eminently spiritual, it is not hyperspiritual, and the Lord therefore next directs us to petition for ourselves. “Give us this day our daily bread.” This is the only petition in the Lord’s prayer which relates to our temporal concerns, and the petition is exactly suited to that spirituality of mind which can say, “Having food and raiment, let us be therewith content.” Nothing here about houses and lands, nothing about stocks and bonds, nothing about fine furnishings and wardrobes, but “this day our daily bread.” And not only is this petition exactly suitable to the real desires of individual spirituality, but exactly suitable also to the spiritual condition of the primitive church. When the church was a sect everywhere spoken against, the outcasts of Society, hated and persecuted by the world, and therefore necessarily poor, with what life and power must this simple petition have risen to the throne of God from their lips and hearts. “Give us this day our daily bread!” Is it so that the church of God has forever passed beyond its primitive condition, in which such a petition could be its daily heart-felt cry? If it has, there are doubtless few who will regret it.

From this single, simple request for our temporal welfare, he turns to our spiritual state. And first, “And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” Sin is the great issue of human life, the great matter which requires all of our attention and all of our exertion, the vast theme, in fact, of the one Book which God has given to man. We have sinned, and above all things we want mercy and forgiveness. But sin is not so light a matter as men suppose. “Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able.” (Luke 13:24). Men may fail to enter in for many reasons, but the sum of all of them is sin. Here the Lord tells us specifically, “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

And here, no doubt, is the real difficulty which men have with the Lord’s prayer. Here is the real reason why they reject the Lord’s prayer, as well as the whole Sermon on the Mount. As for the doctrine involved in Christ’s words, it is surely no different from that of the epistle of James, which says, “He shall have judgement without mercy that hath showed no mercy.” Neither is Christ’s doctrine anything different in essence from that of the apostle John, who tells us, “He that loveth not his brother abideth in death.” (I John 3:14). No man who will not forgive his brother can pretend to love him, and “He that loveth not, knoweth not God.”

(I John 4:8). This is surely plain enough, but those who are determined to find only differences will never see similarities.

We have been told, of course, and that a thousand times, that such a statement as “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you,” is law—-pure law—-nothing but law—-and law heightened beyond anything that Moses dreamed of. To all of this we reply simply that those who affirm it know nothing of what they affirm. The law knows nothing of the forgiveness of sins, on any terms whatsoever. The forgiveness of sins belongs to grace, and to grace alone.

But I pass beyond controversy, and call attention again to the spirituality of this prayer. How does such a petition as this go to the depths of our souls. How does this cultivate meekness, humility, and love. How does it light up the candle of the Lord, to search all the inward parts of the belly. Any man who can sincerely pray so is sincere indeed.

But I proceed. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Those who know their own weakness will enter heartily into the spirit of this petition. “Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.” So said the Lord to his disciples on that solemn night in Gethsemane. But Peter was too self-confident to watch and pray. He had no fear of entering into temptation. “Though all men shall be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended.” “Lord, I am ready to go with thee, both into prison, and to death.” Yet the same night he denied him thrice. And we, beloved, have every bit as much need to watch and pray, lest we should enter into temptation, as Peter had. I know, it will be said that the indwelling Spirit had not then come, and Peter was therefore left to himself. What then? Did the Lord advise him to “watch and pray” for nothing? Must he be left to himself whether he prayed or not, because the Spirit was not yet given? This is foolishness. And Peter was indwelt by the Spirit at Antioch in Galatians 2, when he was to be blamed, when he led away the Jews and even Barnabas with dissimulation, when he walked not uprightly according to the truth of the gospel. It is self-sufficiency which feels no need for such praying. Yet so long as sin so easily besets us, we have no right to such self-sufficiency, and every reason to pray, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” This it is which ought to be our great concern. Nothing can hurt us but sin, and sin can hurt us indeed.

I suppose it is scarcely necessary to remind ourselves that the Lord is not praying here, but teaching his disciples how to pray. The whole is introduced with “After this manner therefore pray ye.” And having thus taught them to pray for their own great necessities—-that is, for their daily bread, for the forgiveness of their sins, and for the securing of their holiness—-his heart immediately returns to its own element: “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory for ever. Amen.”

This last clause, I suppose, must not be regarded as praying at all by a good many Fundamentalists, since they have heard so often from John R. Rice that “prayer is asking,” with thanksgiving and other matters explicitly excluded. Yet the Lord says, “After this manner pray ye.” Some also speak rather forcefully against telling God what he already knows in our praying, but this is exactly what the Lord teaches us here to do. This clause is neither petition, nor thanksgiving, nor exactly even praise, but simply telling God something about himself. Yet this is no empty operation, but is precisely the way of love. This is not merely an objective rehearsal of facts, but the heart’s expression of its delight in those facts. This is the way of love. The Song of Solomon is full of it. Though that book consists very largely of romantic talk, yet the bridegroom never comes down to anything so commonplace as “I love you.” His mouth is full of “thou art”—-along with “thy locks are,” “thy lips are,” “thy love is”—-to his heart’s content. He is not merely rehearsing facts, but expressing his delight in those facts.

So exactly does the Lord do when he teaches us to pray, “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever.” Not that we ought to address the Lord as the lovers in the Song of Solomon address each other. God forbid. I once heard a woman address the Lord in prayer as though she were talking to her lover, and I never wish to hear it again. There is a vast and very obvious difference between “Thou art all fair, my love,” and “Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory for ever.” Both exhibit the delight and admiration of love, but they are two different kinds of love.

And there, brethren, I rest my case, and only ask in conclusion, laying theological notions aside, Where shall we find another prayer so practical and so spiritual as this one?