Download the Bethlehem Baptist Church Mobile App
Available for iOS and Android
January 3/4, 2015
Jason Meyer | Luke 11:1-13
Now Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” And he said to them, “When you pray, say:
“Father, hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread,
and forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.
And lead us not into temptation.”
And he said to them, “Which of you who has a friend will go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves, for a friend of mine has arrived on a journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; and he will answer from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed. I cannot get up and give you anything’? I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence he will rise and give him whatever he needs. And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”—Luke 11:1–13
Introduction
Bethlehem has a tradition of starting each new year by focusing on the Word and prayer in the first two sermons of the year. We have also had separate events to focus on them: an all-night of prayer and a fighter verse kick-off. This year we intend to send a clear message. Rather than having two events with divided attendance since no one can be at everything, we are having one event that celebrates the Word and prayer together to show that though they are distinguishable, they are inseparable. This event will be on January 9, and I want to strongly encourage all of you to be there.
This sermon focuses on prayer, but I dare you to try to separate prayer from the Word. The title is “Teach Us to Pray.” Where are we going to turn for that? How do we know what to pray? We turn to the word of God.
Imagine a painting of Jesus’ teaching on prayer. Luke’s painting of Jesus’ teaching on prayer includes three distinct scenes that come together to make a whole picture: context (v. 1), content (vv. 2–4), and convictions (vv. 5–13). We could make any of these points a sermon in itself, but I want to see the whole picture. The whole picture has two points that blend seamlessly together into one main point that stands out in every section: Real prayer comes from seeing how great our need is and how much greater our God is.
Now Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”
The most obvious thing about prayer to anyone who has ever tried to pray for more than three minutes is how difficult it is. The disciples’ realization of need must have been natural and instinctive. Their request is a knee-jerk response to a prayer deficit. Have you ever prayed and found yourself in a position where after a few minutes, you came to the end of your words? Do you ever find your mind wandering so that you start praying for God’s kingdom to come, but after a while you think about how you need to mow the lawn or start wondering when your car got its last oil change? Undoubtedly the disciples had some sense of a prayer deficit, but this deficit must have felt exponentially larger every time they saw Jesus pray.
Jesus would rise before dawn and go pray. He would spend whole nights in prayer. Have you ever read that and thought, “What does he talk about for such a long time?”
Prayer has a revealing function. It not only reveals more of God to us—it also reveals more of us and our relationship with God. It can reveal the poverty or vibrancy of our relationship with God like nothing else. The Puritan John Owen once said something piercing about the private life of prayer: “What a man is on his knees in secret before God Almighty, that he is and no more.” What are you on your knees in secret before God Almighty? What is the quality of your prayer life?
Imagine what Jesus’ prayers must have been like. Have you ever witnessed two people in love? Don’t think of sappy, puppy-dog love. I am talking about the deepest and longest-lasting love imaginable. Imagine a relationship of eternal, perfect, flawless, not-ever-missing-a-beat kind of love. The Father and the Son have had that from all eternity.
When the disciples heard Jesus pray, they did not have a category for that kind of praying. Prayer was not a discipline for Jesus to master like a routine check box that he got good at doing everyday. Prayer was an overflow of an intimate relationship with his Father.
Prayer punctuates the life of Jesus. The Gospel of Luke has twelve references to Jesus praying—far more than any other gospel (Luke 3:21; 5:16; 6:12; 9:18; 9:28–36; 10:21–22; 11:1–4; 22:17–19; 22:32; 22:41; 22:44; 23:46). He is praying as the heavens open at his baptism (3:21). He prayed all night before choosing the twelve disciples (6:12). He is praying while he is transfigured before Peter, James, and John (9:28–36). Jesus prays in thanksgiving at the Last Supper (22:17–19). Jesus prays in Gethsemane before the crucifixion (22:41). Jesus prays with his dying breath, saying, “Into your hands, I commit my spirit” (23:46).
But the disciples were probably struck not only by the quantity of prayer in Jesus’ life but also by the quality. The Pharisees could log some impressive prayer time in terms of quantity, but in terms of quality, their prayers were worthless hypocrisy. Pharisees would always be caught praying in the marketplace and in well-traveled places because they were putting on a show. They wanted everyone to see them praying. Jesus was different. He would often withdraw to desolate places to pray. The place wasn’t the attraction—the Person was. Have you ever wanted to spend time with someone and didn’t want anything to get in the way? Jesus wanted to get alone with His Father. He slipped away to pray because he prized his time with his Father.
This is a challenge to us, dear friends. I read about Jesus’ prayers in the Gospels, and I see someone who slipped away to pray. Prayer wasn’t just a priority; it was a passion. You don’t suddenly slip away to do something you don’t enjoy. You don’t slip away to take out the trash or to do your taxes. You slip away from the hustle and bustle and pressure to do something you love, something that restores and strengthens, something you look forward to. Is that you? Is prayer a chore that bores you? I am not asking you whether you think it is hard work or not. It most certainly is hard. I am asking a delight question. Is prayer something that feels like a chore, or is it something you cherish? A chore is not something you want more and more. Do you prize prayer the way Jesus does? We need to understand prayer the way Jesus does. We see a lot of silly commercials about great cell-phone plans and how many minutes you can get. Prayer is a Christian hedonist’s dream come true: a way to have constant communion with God. Prayer gives unlimited minutes with God. He doesn’t drop calls, and he is never on another line.
That delight is what stands out as something different in Jesus’ prayers. What an experience it must have been to see Jesus pray! His disciples did the only sensible thing that a disciple can do. They asked the Master, “Lord, teach us to pray” (v. 1). He did not teach them techniques. He taught them content. Prayer is not about finding techniques but about expressing what we treasure. What we pray reveals what we treasure. The content of prayer reveals what we cherish in prayer.
And he said to them, “When you pray, say:
“Father, hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread,
and forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.
And lead us not into temptation.”
Here Jesus gives five petitions. Two (“hallowed be your name” and “your kingdom come”) are vertical, and three (“give us each day our daily bread,” “forgive us our sins,” and “lead us not into temptation”) are horizontal. All five petitions highlight the greatness of God. The first two are fully focused on the glorious greatness of God. We do not show up at all in these petitions. The pronoun “our” is completely absent. Our first priority in prayer is to get swept up into the glory and grandeur of God. Then, the final three petitions help us see the greatness of our needs.
The first vertical petition is “Father, hallowed by your name.” God’s glory and our enjoyment of God’s glory should be the aim of every prayer. If our aim is off, the whole prayer will misfire. Prayer must begin with the orientation of adoration. Hallowed means “set apart as special.” We are saying, “You have a one of a kind name because no one else is like you. You are so great, Father. Let your name be lifted higher.” I love the fact that this petition is so firmly rooted in reality. This is not a pipe-dream prayer to make something happen that is far-fetched. God’s name really is elevated and exalted above every other name. No one is greater. No one has a higher name. So our prayers align with reality when we say, “Father, I so enjoy your greatness. May your name be lifted higher!”
Our prayers will either be God-centered or man-centered. There are no other options. We will be impressed with God (which is why we pray) or we will be impressed with ourselves (our duty, discipline, diligence) and try to show how religious we are.
These two things are like the gravitational pull of prayer. When one object enters the atmosphere of another object, it immediately becomes clear which object has the greater gravitational force. Something has more force if it has more mass. “The greater an object’s mass, the more gravitational force it exerts.” The moon orbits around the earth because the earth is more massive than the moon, so it exerts more gravitational force. The same thing happens in prayer. Our hearts and our tongues are pulled into God’s gravitational greatness. He is much more massive than anything else—he has more importance and beauty and power and glory.
You don’t have to try to say it eloquently. It matters far more to say it sincerely. Listen to the way Martin Luther prayed before one of his sermons:
Dear Lord God, I want to preach so that you are glorified. I want to speak of you, praise you, praise your name. Although I probably cannot make it turn out well, won’t you make it turn out well? (quoted in Fred Meuser, Luther the Preacher, Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1983, p. 51).
The second vertical petition is “your kingdom come.” Once again there are only two ways to live life: self-centered or God-centered. We will try to make our desires a reality in our kingdom rule, or we will yield to God’s kingdom rule. We will rely on our sense of direction and try to rule over our own little personal kingdom, or we will surrender. We relinquish our own claim over our life to call the shots and to go wherever our sense of direction dictates.
“Your kingdom come” is a declaration. We do not ask God to climb into the passenger seat of our car and come along for the ride so we can ask him for directions and help whenever we need it. This petition celebrates that God is in control. His kingdom rules over all. He has the steering wheel of all of history, including our very lives. Too many people at this point want to drive away from God and not even let him in the car. Others think they are receiving him when they let him in the car to have a seat in their life. That is not the way it works. We must surrender the wheel. We follow the course of his kingdom reign.
The honor of God’s name and the coming of God’s kingdom are divinely ordered priorities. Do these two central themes mark your prayers? Think about a word cloud. A word clouds is a cluster of words that uses font size to show how often words appear—you may have seen one on the side of a blog. Words that occur with greater frequency are given a greater font size, which gives them greater prominence in the word cloud. If someone generated a word cloud for your prayers, what words would stand out? Would words like health, healing, and financial help? It is not that those things shouldn’t appear in a word cloud of your prayers—it is just that they shouldn’t be in the biggest font size. God’s name and his kingdom should be in the biggest, boldest font size of all.
Listen to Martyn Lloyd–Jones expound upon how we start our prayers:
If only we would always start in prayer with this true sense that . . . we are in the presence of God, and that the eternal and almighty God is there, looking upon us as our Father, and more ready to bless and to surround us with His love than we are to receive His blessing, we should achieve more in that moment of recollection than all our prayers put together are likely to achieve without that realization. If only we all had this concern about God and His honour and glory! (Sermon on the Mount, p. 334).
Next, the three horizontal petitions all stress our dependence and our weakness and provide a contrast with God’s perfection and purity.
The first horizontal petition is “give us each day our daily bread” (v. 3). Our bodies break down without food. We need food to survive, and God doesn’t. He doesn’t live in temples built by hands, and he is not served by human hands as though he needed anything. Instead, he himself gives all people life and breath and everything else (Acts 17:24–25). God doesn’t need food; he gives it. His giving is daily.
Notice also the communal nature of our need for food. Eating food together is a way of sharing fellowship. God gave food to be enjoyed. But eating together is also a reminder of the weakness that we all share. All of us are weak and would die without food.
The second horizontal petition is “forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us” (v. 4). Forgiveness is a greater need than food. Without food, our physical bodies will die. Without forgiveness, our souls and bodies will be destroyed in hell forever. This need for forgiveness is a corporate, communal need, not just a personal and private one. The plural of this petition is startling. Forgiveness and peacemaking happen in community for those living under Christ’s kingdom. We are sinners living among sinners. We need to receive forgiveness and give forgiveness. Our sinfulness is in contrast to God, who is not a sinner. Even though all sin is against him, he provides forgiveness at the cost of the cross.
The third horizontal petition is “lead us not into temptation” (v. 4). We are morally weak—we are easily pulled into the ditch of temptation. This petition is also corporate. We have to be aware that we could put stumbling blocks in front of others.
God, however, is not ever tempted by evil.
Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures.—James 1:13-18
Jesus says that our prayers should frequently ask for protection from our waywardness.
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love.
Here’s my heart, Lord take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.
Now Jesus gives us some clear convictions that function as catalysts for prayer. I love the definition of a catalyst: “a substance that enables a chemical reaction to proceed at a faster rate than or under different conditions (as at a lower temperature) than otherwise possible.” The third scene of the painting stuns us with two convictions that are clear, compelling, and breathtakingly beautiful.
And he said to them, “Which of you who has a friend will go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves, for a friend of mine has arrived on a journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; and he will answer from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed. I cannot get up and give you anything’? I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence he will rise and give him whatever he needs. And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
Two related convictions stand out in these verses: the call for perseverance and the comparison of the lesser to the greater. The first story involves two friends. One friend goes to the other at a very inconvenient time when the family is in bed for the night. This friend does not jump up out of bed immediately in response to friendship, but eventually the request is granted because of sheer annoyance. The sense of allegiance is not great, but the sense of annoyance is. Jesus draws from this story the principle of perseverance: keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking, and eventually the answer will come.
But notice that Jesus goes further. We pray in childlike faith, which trusts in the greater goodness of God. We don’t trust in our ability to annoy God with our persistence. We trust in his greater goodness. Do you see how these two convictions come together into one? The call for perseverance is rooted and grounded in the comparison of the lesser to the greater. If a friend would answer when you are in need because of the irritation of inconvenience, then how much more would a perfect Father who never slumbers or sleeps answer you when you are in need?
The next story moves to the realm of intimate family. In this story, the person asking is not simply a friend of the family but a child asking a father. Earthly fathers know how to give good things to their children. Jesus confronts us with the greater part of this comparison. If earthly parents, who are sinful and imperfect, can give good things, then we are invited to imagine how much higher and greater the response of a perfect, all–loving, all–powerful, all–knowing Father would be.
Conclusion
The Trinitarian fullness of God shines in verse 13. The Son of God as the second person of the Trinity is teaching disciples how to pray to the Father as the first person of the Trinity. Luke closes by saying the best gift God gives us is the third Person of the Trinity: the Holy Spirit. Why is the Holy Spirit such a great gift? He is the gift that keeps on giving. In fact, Jesus closes with this reference to the gift of the Spirit because the Spirit is what makes all of these prayers possible.
Why would self–centered, proud sinners ever come to prize God’s name, will, and kingdom above their own? The Holy Spirit’s work in conversion causes us to long for God’s name to be exalted, not ours. We long for his kingdom (not ours) and his will (not ours). That is a miracle.
Why would we pray for daily provisions instead of assuming that we must provide for ourselves? God’s Spirit.
Why would fallen people ever forgive? When people hurt you, you instinctively want to make them feel what they made you feel. It feels good to withhold affection and forgiveness from them. It feels morally right, but it is sick and twisted. It is a cancer that grows and consumes. The Spirit creates a heart that is willing to let go and forgive.
Why would fallen people even want to resist temptation and be kept far away from it? The Holy Spirit causes war in the soul against the desires of the flesh.
Why would anyone dream they could ever approach the almighty, all–knowing creator of the universe and address him tenderly as “Dearest Father?” The Spirit is the one who cries in our hearts, saying, “Abba, Father.”
But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.—Galatians 4:4–7
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.—Romans 8:14–17
I will never forget the story that Russell Moore told of his adoption experience. He and his wife Maria adopted two boys from Ukraine. When they went to visit the orphanage, they were struck by the smell and the poor conditions, but they were even more appalled by the silence. Here was an orphanage full of children, including infants, and there was no noise. They realized that the children had learned that when they cried, no one would answer. So the children began to rock themselves to sleep and comfort themselves. The best sound that Moore and his wife heard come from this boy who was to become their son was a scream. They were leaving for the last time before coming back to adopt him when the boy fell down in his crib and screamed. He screamed because he recognized that if he cried out, someone would finally answer.
In the same way, we do not have fear that causes us to be silent. Instead, we have the Holy Spirit, who causes us to cry out, “Abba! Father!” because we know that our Father will hear and answer.
We know our Father will hear and answer because of the sacrifice of the Son. We do not deserve to have any of our prayers answered. Jesus died so that we could have perfect confidence in our relationship with God. There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. All the promises of God are now “yes” in Christ.
Communion is not just the remembrance of what Jesus has done for us by providing our salvation. It is also the remembrance of our adoption—the celebration of the tearing of the veil so that we could have access to God in prayer.
No condemnation now I dread,
Jesus and all in him is mine.
Alive in him, my living head
and clothed in righteousness divine.
Bold I approach the eternal throne
and claim the crown through Christ my own.
This love of God is poured out in our hearts “through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Romans 5:5).
A word for those who look ahead and see only suffering: the worst thing for you to feel is performance pressure. Performance pressure is the added burden we take on when we feel like we need to perform well in suffering. You think to yourself, “I need to process what is going on. I need to bear up under this and be cheerful and hopeful. I need to be able to articulate what is going on.” Guess what? The pressure is off. With the gift of the Holy Spirit, you don’t even need to know what to pray in order to pray.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words . . . the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.—Romans 8:26–27
Our weakness is even greater than we feared at first glance, but in the final analysis God is the loving Father, the saving Son, and the comforting Spirit. He is greater than we even dared to hope.
Sermon Discussion Questions
Outline
Imagine a painting of Jesus’ teaching on prayer. It would combine three distinct scenes so they come together to make a whole picture:
Main Point: Real prayer comes from seeing how great our need is and how much greater our God is.
Discussion Questions
Application Questions