Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when He finished, one of His disciples said to Him, “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John also taught his disciples.” He said to them, Whenever you pray, say: Father,…” Luke 11:1-2
A prayer of praise for my Father…
Lord, You know that since I have begun to write my prayers, I have taken the time to wrestle with ideas, simple and complex, relating to who You are and who I am in Your sight. I mull over words and meanings. I meditate on passages. But sometimes I miss the importance of something my eyes have passed over hundreds of times. When You answered Your apostles’ request with a sample prayer, You knew these words would be memorized and repeated over and over (and over and over) by untold thousands through the end of time. But it’s the first word of this prayer that gets slighted as I add phrase after phrase to the end. Father. Until I grasp the intent behind that salutation, nothing following matters.
Jesus, when I claim Your Father as my Father, I am, as C. S. Lewis writes, “dressing up as Christ.” I am standing in the same place You stand. You – the perfect example of how to speak wisely, forgive compassionately, act lovingly, die submissively. You belong with the Father. But me? I speak foolishly, forgive grudgingly, act resentfully, and approach death dismissively. I don’t belong with the Father. I taint the sweet smell of heaven.
Then…the Spirit breathes, and I see You, Jesus, gazing into the faces of Your disciples as You share this prayer. They all had their own set of weaknesses and shortcomings, yet You invited them to call Your Father their Father. You invited them to stand where You stand. Then You look at me and offer that same invitation. I needn’t worry about my sullied presence. You made the introduction, after all. I only have to be the child, patterning my life after You, my Brother. And then, miraculously, I belong.
