Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come… (Matthew 6:9-10).
It’s that glorious Someday.
There will be no more pain
or fear
or suffering
or loss
or loneliness
or sin
or death
or shame.
There will be only, always, ever…him.
Oh, Glorious Someday.
Even so, come Lord Jesus.
Can I get an Amen, Beloved?
Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name, (Matthew 6:9).
My apologies to those of you on a tight schedule, but I need another day of holiness.
Actually, I need a full eon of holiness…but you know what I’m saying.
God. Perfect. Untouched by sin. Unable—if that word can apply to God—to be in the same room with sin.
God. Thoroughly in love with me, a creature thoroughly in love with sin. Determined to bring me to himself in a way that wouldn’t obliterate me.
God. Willing to sacrifice his very heart to save me from death.
God. Taking the holiness of his son and applying it to me, so that I might deserve what I didn’t earn and belong where I have no right to be.
Wow, Beloved. I mean…wow.
Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name, (Matthew 6:9).
Holy.
His name is holy.
I had a friend once upon a time who pursued holiness with an intensity you rarely encounter. He told me that, each night, he would lie in bed and review the events of the day, looking for areas in which he had fallen short. He would then take the time to pray and seek forgiveness. The process sometimes took an hour or more. I loved my friend, but I thought he was being legalistic an over the-top.
And yet…
God told the Israelites, “I am the Lord who brought you up out of Egypt…therefore be holy, because I am holy” (Lev. 11-45). OK, I’ve never been to North Africa, but I’ve been in my own personal Egypt, if you get my drift. God brought me out, as surely as he parted the sea for Moses.
And in his prayer, Jesus emphasizes God’s holiness.
His name is holy.
We are called to be holy.
We are called to be like him.
Of course, I’ll never attain true holiness this side of Heaven.
But…should I not make the attempt?
Hmmm.
Something to chew on, Beloved.
This, then, is how you should pray:
Our Father in Heaven… (Matthew 6:9).
Jesus taught us how to pray. It’s probably worth paying attention, hmm?
For the next several mornings, let’s take a look at the model prayer that Christ gave us in Matthew. I don’t think it’s a mantra that we’re meant to recite; I do think it’s an example that we would be wise to follow.
First thing to notice—Jesus directs his prayer to the Father. He could have called him “Lord,” or “Master,” or even “God.”
But he didn’t.
He called him Father.
Do you have Dad issues, Beloved? When you think of your father, do you see an always loving, completely understanding, thoroughly trustworthy, totally forgiving man of perfect wisdom and strength who makes it easy for you to identify with an all-loving Lord of the Universe?
Yeah, me neither.
Nor do my kids, come to think of it.
Look, this isn’t a therapy session—it’s just a One-a-Day. Let’s keep it simple. No matter how your earthly dad stacks up against Perfection, no matter how hard he tried—or didn’t—he’s gonna fall short somewhere.
And that’s OK.
You have a Father in Heaven who is strength and wisdom and compassion and love personified. He is your glorious Father, and he loves you…gloriously. He is worthy of your praise, your devotion, your trust
And your prayers, which brings us back to where we started.
He is God, and King, and Lord.
You get to call him Father.
Because you are his Beloved.
Remember that…no matter what Monday brings.
Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor, and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives for ever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne and worship him who lives for ever and ever. They lay their crowns before the throne and say:
You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive honor and glory and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being (Revelation 4:9-11).
Thoughts from the early-morning-post-Thanksgiving stupor:
It’s true, you know. All of it. Somewhere, in a dimension that I do not yet have access to, the above scene is playing out. Someday, somehow, I’ll get to see it. I’ll even, in some small way, get to be a part of it.
How can that be so?
I dunno..but it is.
The point is, it isn’t just metaphor. It’s happening.
Sometimes I get caught up in the philosophy of Christianity and neglect the reality of Christ. That’s not such a good idea. Because as wondrous as the concepts of grace, and salvation, and eternal life are, they must be anchored in real events.
The manger
The cross
The empty tomb
As we move forward into the Christmas season, I need to remind myself—and maybe you, Beloved—that the story we celebrate is not only Truth.
It is true.
Happy Friday.
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:56-57).
Of all that he has done for us, there is nothing greater than this.
Thank you, Lord Jesus.
Happy Thanksgiving, Beloved.
I thank my God every time I remember you (Philippians 1:3).
We all have them.
You know, those people who are a pure blessing. The ones who bring undiluted joy to our lives. The very thought of them makes us grin.
You’re thinking about yours right now.
Take a few moments this morning to thank God for those people. Let your smile grow wide and your heart full. Praise the One who loves you, because he knows you need these people, and he puts them in your heart to bless you.
He could work in you without them.
But he chooses to use them.
Just as he uses you in them.
Happy Wednesday, Beloved.
…give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
Over the past several months, I have replaced both cars (going from no car payments to two car payments), the stove, and the dishwasher. I have had major work difficulties and have been the victim of a threatened lawsuit and minor religious persecution. My daughter just went through an agonizing bout of oral surgery, and I spent the vast bulk of my yesterday at the urgent care with my son.
Seriously? I should give thanks in all that?
Over the past several months, I have seen both of my ancient cars fall apart, in traffic, without anyone getting hurt. I have received a pay raise to cover (barely) the cost of car payments. God has used work difficulties, potential lawsuits, and mild persecution to take my wisdom up a much-needed notch and give me a platform for sharing Him with coworkers. My daughter has turned the corner on her pain. My son and I got to spend the vast bulk of our yesterday people watching, before he overcame his fear of needles and learned that his heart is strong and his pancreas fully functional.
Seriously. I should give thanks in all that.
Sometimes it’s a matter of perspective, Beloved.
Remind me of that the next time you need to talk me in from the ledge, will you?
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever (Psalm 136:1).
He doesn’t have to be.
Good, I mean.
Well, sure, I know that goodness and love are at the very root of God’s character, so you could argue, “Of course he has to be good. It’s his nature.”
But what if it weren’t?
What if God were all-powerful, but not all-loving? What if he were great without being good?
A cruel, angry, malicious god would still be God—still deserving of our obedience, our service.
But our love? How could I love him if he weren’t good?
How could I love him if he didn’t love me first?
Let’s be thankful that we will never need to find out.
Give thanks to the Lord, Beloved. For he is good.
The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders; the Lord thunders over the mighty waters.
The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic…
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars…
The voice of the Lord strikes with flashes of lightning…
And all in his temple cry, “Glory!” (Psalm 29:3-9)
It’s 3:45 a.m. where I live, and I was just awakened by a rainstorm.
The lightning is flashing.
The thunder is booming.
The wind is howling.
The dog is trembling.
The backyard is flooding.
And my heart is crying, “Glory!”
Glory! to the One who created it all.
Glory! to the One who has power beyond imagining.
Glory! to the One who brings life and death, creation and destruction, by the merest thought.
Glory! to the One who commands the cosmos
and yet stoops to notice
and love
my shriveled little heart
and call me
Beloved.
Happy Friday, Beloved. Take today by storm.