The Lord's Prayer

 The Lord’s Prayer is a part of the Sermon on the Mount. Here Jesus teaches principles that characterize the radical kingdom he announces and the attitudes and behavior that characterize those who participate in it.
 
And so, Jesus teaches a kingdom prayer. He establishes the standards of good practice for his followers first through negative examples that teach them how they should not pray (vv. 5–8), and, second, through a model prayer that teaches them how they should pray (vv. 9–13: Οὕτως οὖν προσεύχεσθε ὑμεῖς. The context suggests that the imperative in v. 9 is best taken as a customary present, expressing a habitual action. Contrary to those whose prayers are habitually self-promoting, those whose prayers follow Jesus’s model cultivate a different habit.

This kingdom prayer has six petitions, grouped in two sets of three. The first set presents requests about God: three clauses, each [p. 21] with a third-person, aorist imperative verb, followed by a noun modified by a second-person possessive pronoun (vv. 9–10). The imperative is a natural choice in prayer, because it is the verbal form normally used when someone of lower status communicates to a superior.1 The second set of petitions presents requests about human needs (vv. 11–13). Each of these petitions contains a first-person, plural pronoun, and the second and third petitions are connected to the previous one by καί (“and”) to form one long sentence.
 
Our English translations may lead us to think that the first petition is a statement or declaration (i.e., “hallowed be your name” = “your name is holy”). We have seen that the Greek verb, however, is not an indicative but an imperative that expresses a petition. It is a request to God that his name be treated as holy because at the present time it is not always so. Essentially this is a plea for the coming of God’s kingdom, which Jesus says has drawn near (4:17). The second request articulates this plea: “May your kingdom come!”
 
The third request extends the plea for God’s kingdom to come in its fullness. Its word order in the Greek is illuminating. The emphasis is on the first clause, “as in heaven.” God’s will is done in heaven in a way not yet done on earth. The point is not simply to pray that God accomplish his will, but that God accomplish it on earth as it is [already done in heaven].
 
Through repetition and variation, the first three petitions ask God to realize his kingdom in all its fullness. Yet it is not a passive prayer. It is not a request that God act while human beings wait and watch. This kingdom prayer orients Jesus’s followers to the present revelation of God’s future reign. As a result, we may live in this kingdom by promoting God’s person, will, and ways rather than our own.
 

-  J. Scott Duvall, Devotions on the Greek New Testament: 52 Reflections to Inspire and Instruct

 

Moses and His Life Experiences

Learning how to control his violent temper and learning how to serve were only the first of many lessons that Moses learned in Midian. God is never in any great hurry to prepare his servants to do his will, especially when he has some great work for them to accomplish. There is no better example of this than the prophet Moses, who spent four decades in the wilderness before beginning his public ministry. The book of Acts explains that forty years passed between Moses’ flight to Midian and his encounter with God at the burning bush (Acts 7:29, 30). Forty years! Someone has pointed out that “Moses was 40 years in Egypt learning something; he was 40 years in the desert learning to be nothing; and he was 40 years in the wilderness proving God to be everything.” Whenever we are tempted to grow impatient with God’s timetable for our lives, we should remember Moses, who spent two years of preparation for every year of ministry.
 
During the forty long years that Moses spent in Midian, God used three experiences to prepare him for his primary calling, which was to lead God’s people out of Egypt. The first was his living situation. The precise location of Midian is somewhat uncertain. The Midianites may have lived in Arabia, but more likely they lived on the Sinai Peninsula, near the Gulf of Aqaba. The term does not refer primarily to a place, however, but to a people group—a tribe of desert nomads. Living with the Midianites meant living in the wilderness.
 
Moses’ wilderness experience was of great practical significance. One of the things he learned was the wilderness itself—its geography and topography. Later, when he led God’s people out of Egypt, he knew things like where to find water and how to find his way back to God’s holy mountain. But Moses’ wilderness experience was of even greater significance spiritually, for before he led Israel out of Egypt, Moses had an exodus of his own. It was in the wilderness that he learned what it was like to be an outcast. The people of God were strangers in Egypt, but Egypt was Moses’ home—so much so that the daughters of Reuel immediately identified him as “an Egyptian” (Exod. 2:19). It was only when he went out to live in the desert that Moses experienced alienation for himself. At the birth of his first son, he said, “I have become an alien in a foreign land” (v. 22b). The foreign land Moses seems to have had in mind was not Midian but Egypt, since he was speaking in the past tense. The verse should thus be translated as follows: “A stranger I have been there,” with Moses referring back to his upbringing in Pharaoh’s palace. It was through his wilderness experience that he learned to identify with God’s people in their suffering.
 
The second life experience God used to prepare Moses for leadership was his family situation. Not only did Moses become a husband in Midian, but he also became a father: “Zipporah gave birth to a son, and Moses named him Gershom, saying, ‘I have become an alien in a foreign land’ ” (v. 22). The name Gershom comes from the Hebrew verb garash, which means “to drive out or to expel”; thus it may refer to Moses’ own experience in being driven out of Egypt. It also sounds like the Hebrew words ger and sham, a pun that means “an alien there.” The Bible does not include these domestic details simply out of biographical interest. Moses’ family situation was part of his preparation for ministry. As a husband, he learned how to love and serve his wife. As a father, he learned how to care for and discipline his children. By settling into the life of the home Moses learned how to be a servant-leader.
 
It was in the same home that Moses grew in his relationship with God, for when he accepted Zipporah’s hand in marriage, he became a member of her clan. The Midianites seem to have worshiped the one true God, the God of their father Abraham. It seems significant that Reuel was a priest and that his name means “friend of God.” In all likelihood Moses received spiritual instruction from his father-in-law, so that by the time he saw the burning bush, he had already been reintroduced to the God of Abraham.
 
Thirdly, Moses learned how to serve God through his work situation. Job opportunities are somewhat limited in the wilderness, and since his father-in-law was a shepherd, Moses became a shepherd. We know this because the next chapter begins with him out tending his flock (Exod. 3:1).
 
This was hardly the profession Moses would have chosen because he was raised in Egypt, and the Bible says that “all shepherds are detestable to the Egyptians” (Gen. 46:34b). But the Bible also shows that many great leaders got their start as shepherds. This is because there is a lot to be learned from tending sheep. For starters, sheep are not very bright, which means they need someone to lead them to food and water. They make an easy target for predators; so they need someone to protect them. They are prone to wander; so they need someone to bring them back into the fold. In short, sheep are completely dependent on shepherds for their care, which is why the Bible so often compares God’s people to sheep. In the words of the psalmist, “we are his people, the sheep of his pasture” (100:3b). Like so many sheep, we need divine guidance, nourishment, and protection. It was by tending his flock, therefore, that Moses learned how to feed, defend, and rescue the lost sheep of Israel. Since God’s people are the sheep of his pasture, there was no better way for Moses to learn how to lead them than by spending forty years as a shepherd. When Asaph later meditated on God’s saving work in bringing his people out of Egypt, he said, “You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron” (Ps. 77:20; cf. Ps. 78:52; Isa. 63:11).

God used the experiences Moses had along his spiritual journey to prepare him in a special way for a special work. By being faithful in small things, he was prepared for something big. It is doubtful whether we will ever lead God’s people out of bondage. But even if we are not named Moses, God has a plan for us. The Bible says that “we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Eph. 2:10). When the Scripture says that “we are God’s workmanship,” it means that God is at work in our lives to prepare us for his service.

Not only has he prepared good works for us to do, but God is also preparing us to do them, and he does this through the ordinary experiences of daily life. God uses our mistakes, even the kinds of mistakes that send us into the wilderness for decades. In order to become the man God intended him to become, it was necessary for Moses to go out into the wilderness and take care of sheep. Even if we are working a job that does not seem to match our gifts or our interests, God will use it for our good and for his glory.

- P. G. Ryken  & R. K. Hughes. Exodus: Saved for God’s Glory, p71–74.

Why Unleavened Bread

Unleavened bread reminded the Israelites of their hasty departure. But getting rid of the yeast had another purpose. Although it is not explicitly stated in Exodus 12, Jewish teachers have always understood yeast to represent the corrupting power of sin. Unleavened bread symbolizes holiness. What makes this comparison suitable is that unleavened bread is made of pure wheat untouched by yeast.
 
When God’s people ate unleavened bread, therefore, they were reminded to keep themselves pure from sin, and especially from the evils of Egypt. To this day, when devout Jewish families celebrate Passover they search their homes for leaven and then sweep it out the door. This symbolic act shows that they have a commitment to lead a life free from sin.
 
Yeast is an appropriate symbol for sin because of the way it grows and spreads. As yeast ferments, it works its way all through the dough. Sin works the same way, which is why the Bible makes this comparison. Sin is always trying to extend its corrupting influence through a person’s entire life. But God had something better in mind for his people. He was saving them to sanctify them; so before they left Egypt he wanted them to make a clean sweep.
 
God wanted to do something more than get his people out of Egypt; he wanted to get Egypt out of his people. He was saving them with a view to their sanctification; so he told them to make a clean sweep. He commanded them to get rid of every last bit of yeast, the old yeast of Egyptian idolatry. To further show that they were making a fresh start, God gave his people a new calendar.
 
In the case of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the New Testament teaching is perfectly clear. The Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Don’t you know that a little yeast works through the whole batch of dough? Get rid of the old yeast that you may be a new batch without yeast—as you really are. For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed. Therefore let us keep the Festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and wickedness, but with bread without yeast, the bread of sincerity and truth” (1 Cor. 5:6–8).
 

- P. G. Ryken  & R. K. Hughes. Exodus: Saved for God’s Glory, p340-342.

The Second Temple Period

Israel survived under the rule of the Medo-Persian Empire from 539 to about 332 BC, when the Greek Empire, led by Alexander the Great, conquered the known world. Alexander’s rule would not last long. Following his death in 323 BC, Alexander’s territories were partitioned among his military generals, who established their own kingdoms (e.g., the Ptolemaic Kingdom in Egypt and the Seleucid Kingdom in Syria) and continued the former emperor’s systematic spread of Hellenism, or Greek culture (1 Macc 1:1 – 9; 2 Macc 4:7 – 17). These kingdoms, which were often embroiled in war with one another, also created challenges for the Jews, who were positioned geographically between them. 

The Seleucid Kingdom in particular, under the rule of Antiochus IV Epiphanes in 167 BC, raided Jerusalem (1 Macc 1:20 – 40), desecrated the temple (1:47, 54, 59), outlawed observance of the covenant (1:41 – 53), and prohibited possession of the Torah (1:56 – 57). In his pursuit of Hellenization, Antiochus banned the Jews’ customs (1:41 – 44) and violently forced their assimilation (1:50, 57 – 58, 60 – 64). But Antiochus’s persecution was not passively tolerated. The Jewish resistance that arose in response (the Maccabean Revolt, 167 – 142 BC) resulted in the Jews’ repossession of the land, rededication of the temple, and institution of the festival of Hanukkah (1 Macc 4:36 – 59; Josephus, Ant. 12.316 – 325). 

With the renewed national sovereignty of the Hasmoneans (the family that led the Maccabean Revolt), various groups held differing opinions about how to manage the political and temple leadership of Israel. This infighting eventually led to the weakening of the Jewish national leadership, and Pompey, a Roman general contemporaneous with Julius Caesar, seized control of Israel in 63 BC, making it a territory of the Roman republic. Although Rome largely tolerated Jewish religious practices, pressures leading toward political, cultural, and religious assimilation were ever-present. Eventually, the Zealots (a Jewish resistance group) fomented the hopes of another successful revolt. But the Romans, under the soon-to-be emperor Titus, defeated the Jews and destroyed the second temple in AD 70 (Josephus, J.W. 6.220 – 270), thus bringing an end to the Second Temple Period. 

The Second Temple Period (516 BC – AD 70) began with the Jews under the control of the Persians and ended under the control of the Romans. This was, without question, a time of crisis for the Jewish people, and devout men and women reflected on their experiences in a variety of ways. With the pressures from a consecutive transfer of foreign nations pushing the Jews toward assimilation, numerous Second Temple Jewish literary works preserve their thoughts and hopes about God and life in the covenant. These reflections survive in the numerous literary works produced during this period. We turn now to survey these texts.

--- Ben C. Blackwell, John K. Goodrich & Jason Maston, Reading Romans in Context. Zondervan Academic, 2015.

Understanding of Faith and Reason

Neglect of integration results in a costly division between secular and sacred. While few would actually put it in these terms, faith is now understood as a blind act of will, a sort of decision to believe something that is either independent of reason or makes up for the paltry lack of evidence for what one is trying to believe. By contrast, the Bible presents faith as a power or skill to act in accordance with the nature of the kingdom of God, a trust in what we have reason to believe is true. Understood in this way, we see that faith is built on reason and knowledge. We should have good reasons for thinking that Christianity is true before we completely dedicate ourselves to it. We should have solid evidence that our understanding of a biblical passage is correct before we go on to apply it. We bring knowledge claims from Scripture and theology to the task of integration; we do not employ mere beliefs or faith postulates. 

Unfortunately, our contemporary understanding of faith and reason treats them as polar opposites. A few years ago I went to New York to conduct a series of evangelistic messages for a church. The series was in a high school gym and several believers and unbelievers came each night. The first evening I gave arguments for the existence of God from science and philosophy. Before closing in prayer, I entertained several questions from the audience. One woman (who was a Christian) complained about my talk, charging that if I "proved" the existence of God, I would leave no room for faith. I responded by saying ing that if she were right, then we should pray that currently available evidence for God would evaporate and be refuted so there would be even more room for faith! Obviously, her view of faith utterly detached it from reason.

If faith and reason are deeply connected, then students and teachers need to explore their entire intellectual life in light of the Word of God. But if faith and reason are polar opposites, then the subject matter of our study or teaching is largely irrelevant to growth in discipleship. Because of this view of faith and reason, there has emerged a secular-sacred sacred separation in our understanding of the Christian life with the result that Christian teaching and practice are privatized. The withdrawal of the corporate body of Christ from the public sphere of ideas is mirrored by our understanding of what is required to produce an individual disciple. Religion is viewed as personal, private and a matter of how we feel about things. Often, Bible classes and paracurricular Christian activities are not taken as academically serious aspects of the Christian school, nor are they integrated into the content of "secular" areas of teaching.

--- David Lyle Jeffrey & Gregory Maillet. Christianity and Literature: 

Philosophical Foundations and Critical Practice. 

The General Vocation of All Christians

Two important implications flow from the nature of discipleship. For one thing the lordship of Christ is holistic. The religious life is not a special compartment in an otherwise secular life. Rather, the religious gious life is an entire way of life. To live Christianly is to allow Jesus Christ to be the Lord of every aspect of our life. There is no room for a secular-sacred separation in the life of Jesus' followers. Jesus Christ should be every bit as much at home in our thinking and behavior when we are developing our views in our area of study or work as he is when we are in a small group fellowship. 

Further, as disciples of Jesus we do not merely have a job. We have a vocation as a Christian teacher. A job is a means for supporting ourselves selves and those for whom we are responsible. For the Christian a vocation tion (from the Latin vocare, which means "to call") is an overall calling from God. Harry Blamires correctly draws a distinction between a general and a special vocation: 

The general vocation of all Christians-indeed of all men and women-is is the same. We are called to live as children of God, obeying his will in all things. But obedience to God's will must inevitably take many different ferent forms. The wife's mode of obedience is not the same as the nun's; the farmer's is not the same as the priest's. By "special vocation," therefore, fore, we designate God's call to a [person] to serve him in a particular sphere of activity.' 

--- David Lyle Jeffrey & Gregory Maillet. Christianity and Literature: Philosophical Foundations and Critical Practice. 

Song of Peace

The word for “Song” in Hebrew is shur (רושׁ), which means “song,” and the root word in Hebrew for “Psalm” is zamar (רמז), which also means “song.” Yet shur (רושׁ) is a song of peace, joy, and celebration of the power of God, while zamar (רמז) is a song of praise that comes when one is being pruned or tried by God.

Yet this psalm was written in praise to God, and then it was given to the sons of Korah, who made up the temple choir, and to the chief musician. It says it was given upon mahalath (תלחמ), which some say is a musical instrument. No English translation is provided for mahalath (תלחמ), and it is uncertain if the root word is chalah (הלח), which means “to be exhausted,” “to be diseased,” “to be weak,” “to be feeble,” or “to be afflicted,” or if it comes from the root word chul (לוח), which means “to be in pain,” “to tremble,” or “to shake.” Either way, it was given in great distress to the choir and to its director. 

The next word is leannoth (תונﬠל), which comes from the root word ’anah (הנﬠ) and means “to be humbled by affliction.” This word is in a piel* infinitive form and suggests this rendering: “He has been humbled like no other man.” The following word is maschil (ליכשׂמ), which comes from the root word sakal (לכשׂ) and means “to prosper” or “to understand.” This word is in hiphil participle* form, so we could render it as “He has caused him to understand,” or “He has caused him to prosper.”

The experience of the Heman in this psalm does not fit the profile of any other Heman in Scripture. However, in Jewish literature, I have found a description of a Heman that does fit the profile of the Heman of Psalm 88. Jewish literature and tradition teach that this Heman was a gifted musician and vocalist—but he was also a leper.

Here, then, is the picture we see in this psalm. Heman is a diseased, broken, poverty-stricken beggar. He has called out to God all his life to be healed of his leprosy, but he has not been healed. Nevertheless, God has still done a wonderful work of healing in him. He has healed his soul. Although God gave him a beautiful voice, Heman was not allowed to sing in the temple because of his affliction. However, he could sing on the street corner; and, if Jewish literature is correct, that is what he did.

- Chaim Bentorah, Hebrew Word Study, Vol 1