"Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread"
Sermon
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Sermons On The Lord's Prayer
Today marks the mid--point of a journey. We're halfway through an extended series on the Lord's Prayer. Already we've been to the mountaintop. We've considered what it means to have God as our Father in heaven: a loving parent who knows us, who provides for us, and who longs to guide us. We've lifted up the importance of hallowing God's name. Respecting God is like a tent pole that holds up everything else. We've looked out over the expanse of God's Kingdom. We've considered what it might mean to live in it. We've thought about the joys and challenges of accepting and doing God's will.
We've been to the high peaks of the Lord's Prayer. Soon we will probe its deep valleys. "Deep calls to deep" as we consider what it means to pray for forgiveness, for avoiding temptation, and for escape from evil. Then the Lord's Prayer ends on another mountain top, with that soaring benediction: "For thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen." There are high peaks and deep valleys in the Lord's Prayer, aren't there?
But today we find ourselves with our feet planted firmly on the ground. Right in the middle of the greatest prayer ever offered, we pause - and pray for bread. Can anything be more plain or mundane than a slice of bread? Bread is so ordinary, so commonplace. So some commentators try to spiritualize this petition. They say, "When Jesus taught us to pray 'Give us this day our daily bread,' he was really telling us pray for himself: 'The bread of life' " (John 6:35b RSV).
But I don't think the bread we are supposed to pray for is spiritual. I believe Jesus wants us to pray every day for plain old bread. And that praying for bread is in itself a spiritual exercise - just as much as praying for forgiveness or hallowing God's name. Jesus had a gift for making the common uncommon. To him, nothing was ever trivial, including a piece of bread.
"Give us this day our daily bread." What are we praying for when we say this? Those words are so significant we must study them one by one. Let's begin with "bread." To the people of Jesus' day, "bread" was more than just yeast, water, and flour. "Bread" symbolized everything human beings needed for survival.
That means it's okay to pray for all the things that we need to live. That includes our daily bread, of course - but also clothing, employment, transportation back and forth to work, and a warm house on a cold day. To pray for "bread" is also to pray for friendship. For none of us could survive without emotional support.
"Give us this day our daily bread" tells us it's okay to pray for ourselves. That's a good reminder. For sometimes we may shy away from praying for ourselves. James B. Notkin, a pastor at University Presbyterian Church in Seattle, tells of a revelation that came to him in grade school. Notkin was running for some prestigious class office: either door monitor or eraser cleaner. The class had an election. Notkin lost - by one vote.
He went home that afternoon and told his mother. She asked him a simple question: "Well, did you vote for yourself?" Notkin says, "Now, that was a novel thought! Can you do that? Is that fair?" Voting for yourself seemed so self--centered. On reflection Notkin realized it was okay. Since then he has always voted for himself ("Our Bread," University Presbyterian Church audiotape, August 18, 1996).
It's always okay to pray for ourselves, for God understands what we need for survival. Jesus himself was poor. His parables are filled with references to being poor. There's the widow who barely had two nickels to rub together, and who gave them to the Temple. There's the housewife who tore apart her house just to find a lost coin. There's a parable about patching clothing. Mary must have patched Jesus' clothing.
Plus Jesus knew the stresses of providing for a family. After Joseph died, he supported his widowed mother and younger siblings by the strength of his arms, the skill of his hands, and the sweat of his brow. W. Phillip Keller writes,
Hacking and chopping, sawing and planing, shaping and fitting the tough, twisted olive wood and hard, heavy acacia timber that grew in Galilee was no child's play. It was back--breaking toil that turned trees into cattle yokes, plows, tables, and candlesticks that (Jesus) could sell for a few shekels to buy bread. (A Layman Looks at the Lord's Prayer, World Wide Publications, p. 102)
God understands what we need for survival. God knows the stresses of providing for a family. It's okay to pray for ourselves.
Notice, however, in the second place, that we are told to pray for daily bread, daily bread, not a stockpile of bread (or security, or things) to last us forever. By the rest of the world's standards, we Americans are fabulously rich. But it can become easy to be tied down by, or entangled in things.
Remember Gulliver in Lilliput in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels? Remember the scene where he was asleep on a beach, and the tiny Lilliputians tied him up? They used their strongest cords, which were only as strong as our thread. Gulliver could easily have snapped dozens. But he became immobilized because he was bound by hundreds of threads.
So also can you and I become entangled, bound up, immobilized by overconcern for our possessions. Every thing we own, from our house to our computer to our cars to the family silver, ties us down a bit, doesn't it? For it must be paid for, insured, protected, and maintained. It's like that well--known adage about owning a boat: You don't own a boat. The boat owns you.
"Give us this day our daily bread" is a prayer to God for enough - but for only enough. It's a prayer for simplicity. "God, give us what we need daily, yes! But not so much that the things we own start owning us."
In the third place, please note that we pray for our bread. It's plural. Just as we pray for ourselves, so also we must pray for others. Right here on comfortable Cape Cod, and around the globe, many lack adequate food, clothing, shelter, safety, emotional encouragement, and meaningful work. In fact, right now, millions are crying out to God in earnest: "Give us this day our daily bread" -because they haven't eaten today, or yesterday, or the day before.
We are called not only to pray for the hungry, but also to feed the hungry. Listen to this little poem. Jesus speaks:
When I come in the guise
of the needy, the helpless,
the cold and the hungry,
the stranger, the lonely
will you look away?
What will you do?
What will you say?
When I come close to home
in the need of your neighbor,
at times inconvenient,
in places and faces
that mask and conceal me ...
What will you do?
What will you say?
When I come in the message
of prophet and preacher,
in truths inescapable
or words which dismay,
will you listen to me
and give me welcome?
What will you do?
What will you say?
When, face to face
at the end of the journey
we look at each other,
will you look away?
What will I do?
What will I say?
(From Bread of Tomorrow: Praying with the World's Poor, Janet Morely, editor, SPCK, pp. 22--23)
That's a powerful reminder that reaching out to the "least and last" among us is, in reality, reaching out to Jesus. We are meant to
pray for each other's bread - and to give each other bread.
We have considered "bread," "daily," and "our." Now we turn at last to the first word in this petition: "give." "Give us this day our daily bread." That's a reminder that everything we have comes to us as a gift. You and I are at every instant utterly dependent on others. We wouldn't have our daily bread at all if it weren't for the farmers and millers and bakers and warehousemen and truckers and store clerks who bring it to us.
Plus no one would have anything to share if God hadn't provided it first. Behind the farmer who grows the wheat is God who created the seed and the soil. Our Lord's prayer reminds us of our utter dependence on God.
Now we Americans may have trouble dealing with our dependence - perhaps especially native New Englanders. Many of us have been raised on rugged individualism. As the license plate of my home state, New Hampshire, puts it: "Live free or die." Legend has it, by the way, that those license plates are stamped out by prisoners in the state prisons: just another way of doing hard time in the Granite State!
We may not like to admit our dependence on others. Could that be why some men would rather drive around the block for hours than stop and ask for directions? But consider the seagull and how it soars. Have you ever gone down to Corporation Beach and watched the gulls fly?
How do gulls fly so high and so far with a bare minimum of effort? Do they flap their wings frantically? No! Well, only on takeoff. Otherwise (especially this time of year, when the wind is strong) they let the air currents carry them up.
Do we feel sorry for seagulls because they depend on wind currents? I don't. I admire them for their ability to make use of what is given them. Day by day God gives us what we need for our survival - and not just enough for us to get by but enough for us to soar.
Lord, teach us to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread." Help us to trust you to give us enough - but not overmuch. Strengthen our commitment to bring bread and peace to others. Make us wise enough to acknowledge, with thanksgiving, our dependence on you.
The Lord's Prayer brings all of God to all of life: including our need for daily bread. That's not pedestrian. It's profound. It's uplifting. It can even help us to soar.
We've been to the high peaks of the Lord's Prayer. Soon we will probe its deep valleys. "Deep calls to deep" as we consider what it means to pray for forgiveness, for avoiding temptation, and for escape from evil. Then the Lord's Prayer ends on another mountain top, with that soaring benediction: "For thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen." There are high peaks and deep valleys in the Lord's Prayer, aren't there?
But today we find ourselves with our feet planted firmly on the ground. Right in the middle of the greatest prayer ever offered, we pause - and pray for bread. Can anything be more plain or mundane than a slice of bread? Bread is so ordinary, so commonplace. So some commentators try to spiritualize this petition. They say, "When Jesus taught us to pray 'Give us this day our daily bread,' he was really telling us pray for himself: 'The bread of life' " (John 6:35b RSV).
But I don't think the bread we are supposed to pray for is spiritual. I believe Jesus wants us to pray every day for plain old bread. And that praying for bread is in itself a spiritual exercise - just as much as praying for forgiveness or hallowing God's name. Jesus had a gift for making the common uncommon. To him, nothing was ever trivial, including a piece of bread.
"Give us this day our daily bread." What are we praying for when we say this? Those words are so significant we must study them one by one. Let's begin with "bread." To the people of Jesus' day, "bread" was more than just yeast, water, and flour. "Bread" symbolized everything human beings needed for survival.
That means it's okay to pray for all the things that we need to live. That includes our daily bread, of course - but also clothing, employment, transportation back and forth to work, and a warm house on a cold day. To pray for "bread" is also to pray for friendship. For none of us could survive without emotional support.
"Give us this day our daily bread" tells us it's okay to pray for ourselves. That's a good reminder. For sometimes we may shy away from praying for ourselves. James B. Notkin, a pastor at University Presbyterian Church in Seattle, tells of a revelation that came to him in grade school. Notkin was running for some prestigious class office: either door monitor or eraser cleaner. The class had an election. Notkin lost - by one vote.
He went home that afternoon and told his mother. She asked him a simple question: "Well, did you vote for yourself?" Notkin says, "Now, that was a novel thought! Can you do that? Is that fair?" Voting for yourself seemed so self--centered. On reflection Notkin realized it was okay. Since then he has always voted for himself ("Our Bread," University Presbyterian Church audiotape, August 18, 1996).
It's always okay to pray for ourselves, for God understands what we need for survival. Jesus himself was poor. His parables are filled with references to being poor. There's the widow who barely had two nickels to rub together, and who gave them to the Temple. There's the housewife who tore apart her house just to find a lost coin. There's a parable about patching clothing. Mary must have patched Jesus' clothing.
Plus Jesus knew the stresses of providing for a family. After Joseph died, he supported his widowed mother and younger siblings by the strength of his arms, the skill of his hands, and the sweat of his brow. W. Phillip Keller writes,
Hacking and chopping, sawing and planing, shaping and fitting the tough, twisted olive wood and hard, heavy acacia timber that grew in Galilee was no child's play. It was back--breaking toil that turned trees into cattle yokes, plows, tables, and candlesticks that (Jesus) could sell for a few shekels to buy bread. (A Layman Looks at the Lord's Prayer, World Wide Publications, p. 102)
God understands what we need for survival. God knows the stresses of providing for a family. It's okay to pray for ourselves.
Notice, however, in the second place, that we are told to pray for daily bread, daily bread, not a stockpile of bread (or security, or things) to last us forever. By the rest of the world's standards, we Americans are fabulously rich. But it can become easy to be tied down by, or entangled in things.
Remember Gulliver in Lilliput in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels? Remember the scene where he was asleep on a beach, and the tiny Lilliputians tied him up? They used their strongest cords, which were only as strong as our thread. Gulliver could easily have snapped dozens. But he became immobilized because he was bound by hundreds of threads.
So also can you and I become entangled, bound up, immobilized by overconcern for our possessions. Every thing we own, from our house to our computer to our cars to the family silver, ties us down a bit, doesn't it? For it must be paid for, insured, protected, and maintained. It's like that well--known adage about owning a boat: You don't own a boat. The boat owns you.
"Give us this day our daily bread" is a prayer to God for enough - but for only enough. It's a prayer for simplicity. "God, give us what we need daily, yes! But not so much that the things we own start owning us."
In the third place, please note that we pray for our bread. It's plural. Just as we pray for ourselves, so also we must pray for others. Right here on comfortable Cape Cod, and around the globe, many lack adequate food, clothing, shelter, safety, emotional encouragement, and meaningful work. In fact, right now, millions are crying out to God in earnest: "Give us this day our daily bread" -because they haven't eaten today, or yesterday, or the day before.
We are called not only to pray for the hungry, but also to feed the hungry. Listen to this little poem. Jesus speaks:
When I come in the guise
of the needy, the helpless,
the cold and the hungry,
the stranger, the lonely
will you look away?
What will you do?
What will you say?
When I come close to home
in the need of your neighbor,
at times inconvenient,
in places and faces
that mask and conceal me ...
What will you do?
What will you say?
When I come in the message
of prophet and preacher,
in truths inescapable
or words which dismay,
will you listen to me
and give me welcome?
What will you do?
What will you say?
When, face to face
at the end of the journey
we look at each other,
will you look away?
What will I do?
What will I say?
(From Bread of Tomorrow: Praying with the World's Poor, Janet Morely, editor, SPCK, pp. 22--23)
That's a powerful reminder that reaching out to the "least and last" among us is, in reality, reaching out to Jesus. We are meant to
pray for each other's bread - and to give each other bread.
We have considered "bread," "daily," and "our." Now we turn at last to the first word in this petition: "give." "Give us this day our daily bread." That's a reminder that everything we have comes to us as a gift. You and I are at every instant utterly dependent on others. We wouldn't have our daily bread at all if it weren't for the farmers and millers and bakers and warehousemen and truckers and store clerks who bring it to us.
Plus no one would have anything to share if God hadn't provided it first. Behind the farmer who grows the wheat is God who created the seed and the soil. Our Lord's prayer reminds us of our utter dependence on God.
Now we Americans may have trouble dealing with our dependence - perhaps especially native New Englanders. Many of us have been raised on rugged individualism. As the license plate of my home state, New Hampshire, puts it: "Live free or die." Legend has it, by the way, that those license plates are stamped out by prisoners in the state prisons: just another way of doing hard time in the Granite State!
We may not like to admit our dependence on others. Could that be why some men would rather drive around the block for hours than stop and ask for directions? But consider the seagull and how it soars. Have you ever gone down to Corporation Beach and watched the gulls fly?
How do gulls fly so high and so far with a bare minimum of effort? Do they flap their wings frantically? No! Well, only on takeoff. Otherwise (especially this time of year, when the wind is strong) they let the air currents carry them up.
Do we feel sorry for seagulls because they depend on wind currents? I don't. I admire them for their ability to make use of what is given them. Day by day God gives us what we need for our survival - and not just enough for us to get by but enough for us to soar.
Lord, teach us to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread." Help us to trust you to give us enough - but not overmuch. Strengthen our commitment to bring bread and peace to others. Make us wise enough to acknowledge, with thanksgiving, our dependence on you.
The Lord's Prayer brings all of God to all of life: including our need for daily bread. That's not pedestrian. It's profound. It's uplifting. It can even help us to soar.
