The Gospel Coalition

“Authenticity” is one of the buzzwords among younger evangelicals today. Unimpressed by the slick, polished performances of pastors and praise teams in the mega-church world, young people are crying out for authenticity and transparency. Emerging Church leaders are ready to comply. One book title says it all: “No Perfect People Allowed.” Another mantra says “life is messy;” therefore, any ministry worth its salt will agree.

This cry for authenticity is healthy in many ways. It reminds us that success lies not in the outward facade of our church. It is clear that the evangelical culture of hypocrisy needs to be exposed, as in the case of Ted Haggard and other men who shun accountability and are able to live a lie for years without anyone catching on.

The “we’ve got it all together as Christians” culture needs to change, and I’m glad others realize it. The first step of repentance is brokenness over sin, and a recognition of our need to be “fixed.”

But what happens when the pendulum swings too far the other way? Just how transparent are we called to be? And who are we called to be transparent with?

Just “be real” with everyone is the typical answer. Well, of course, I don’t want to be a hypocrite. God forbid that my Christian life be nothing more than a show. But just how “real” am I supposed to be with everyone?

 Does “being real” mean that a pastor who doesn’t feel like preaching on a particular Sunday morning has to get up in the pulpit and tell people he doesn’t feel like being there? Does “transparency” mean that a church leader should admit from the pulpit that he committed the sin of lust and fantasized about three women the week before? Does “authenticity” mean we revel in our imperfections, wearing as a badge our sins instead of our virtues?

Confessing our sins and recognizing our brokenness is not optional for the Christian. But let’s not rush headlong over the cliff and in our desire to be “authentic,” “transparent” and “real” wind up causing weaker ones to stumble.

We need to foster an environment of authenticity in evangelical churches, but this authenticity needs to happen in the proper places, through the proper channels. It is appropriate for a pastor to recount his struggle with lust in a confidential meeting with two or three men who are there to hold him accountable. It is inappropriate for him to broadcast his issues to everyone in the pews.

And let’s make sure we don’t go down the slippery slope of excusing our sin by putting it under the label of “authentic.” Let’s get real. The “real” me and the “real” you is scary to look at sometimes. My goal in life is not to “be real” and “authentic” with everyone. I’m working towards holiness, not authenticity - towards embracing the Living Christ in me, not the “real me” in me.

There are two dangerous extremes. The first? Put on a smiling face; become a hypocrite; hide your sin; be accountable to no one. The second? Be happy with your frown; be proud of your “authentic” Christian life; boast of your sin; be accountable ultimately to yourself.

The wisest way lies in between these two.

1. How many times was Jesus mentioned?
2. Is Jesus the subject of the verbs? (In other words, is Jesus acting or are you?)
3. What are the verbs? (What has Jesus done and what is He doing?)
4. What did the preacher tell me my problem is?
5. What solution did the preacher give me for my problem?

- from Todd Wilken, Issues, Etc.

What do you think of this sermon diagnostic? I like the Christ-centered focus and the emphasis on Jesus’ work on the cross for us. I’m not convinced that a sermon is necessarily bad, or incomplete, if the topic is somewhat different, depending on the text being expounded.

(This is the fourth in a series on The Lord’s Prayer. To see all the posts in this series, click here.)

“Your Kingdom come. . .” 
- Jesus, The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:10)

Jesus’ mountaintop listeners longed for the day when God would become King on earth. They’d had enough of pagan dictators, so they awaited a Messianic warrior who would come to rescue their nation. In contrast to the disciples’ emphasis on an earthly kingdom, Christians today go to the other extreme, believing it only heavenly.

God is King and He rules over a real Kingdom! God’s reign does not only take place in a distant, heavenly realm. Jesus tells us to pray that God’s Kingdom would come on earth – just as it is in heaven. Thus, we pray that God’s sovereign reign would break through space and time, to destroy the wall separating heaven and earth.

Of course, the kingdom was inaugurated through Jesus’ own ministry, although few recognized what was happening. Through Jesus’ sacrifice on Calvary, evil was conquered, and the kingdom of God arrived on earth! The empty tomb on Easter morning foreshadowed the promised new world.

So where are we now? If the kingdom already came through Jesus, why is there still pain, injustice, and the stench of death? We believe that through Jesus’ death and resurrection, the entire cosmos turned the corner from darkness to light. The darkness still exists, but the light is ahead. The Kingdom arrived with Jesus, but it will fully come when He returns, when God steps in as Judge to banish evil forever and renew His precious creation. Jesus inaugurated the Kingdom – we await the final consummation of the Kingdom upon His return.

Therefore, Jesus calls us to pray for the world’s salvation, for God to renew His world. We pray that Jesus would quickly return to defeat evil once and for all, as He has promised. Today, when we look at the world and the church – the struggles, pain, suffering, persecution, and martyrdom, we pray with all our soul, “God, may Your Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven! Come, Lord Jesus!”

When Baptists and other evangelicals claim the doctrine of sola Scriptura, are we asserting that only in Scripture do we find our authority or that ultimately we find our authority in Scripture? Is it Scripture above all or Scripture alone? Is the Bible our final authority or our only authority?  

In response to my previous posts on sola Scriptura as the dividing line for evangelicals and the Orthodox, Scot McKnight wrote: “The Reformers held to a sola scriptura that might be more accurately called the primacy of scripture, but they were massive respecters of the fathers of the Church. There is, I think, a significant difference between sola scriptura (as primacy) and sola scriptura et scriptura sola (the Bible alone, each person to himself).”

What exactly do we mean by sola Scriptura?

Before you read this post, please take a look at my interviews with Theron and John. Theron has left evangelicalism for Eastern Orthodoxy. John has left Eastern Orthodoxy for evangelicalism. I now hope to point out some of the interesting parallels and contrasts between the two interviews.

1. The Influence of Folk Religion on Religious Adherents
      Theron’s conversion took place in the buckle of the Bible belt, an area of the United States where a majority of people adhere (loosely) to some form of evangelical religious beliefs and would consider themselves “born again.” John’s conversion took place in Romania, where more than 90% of the population is Eastern Orthodox (mostly by birth). Conversions from one denomination to another seem to often take place in areas where one religious affiliation dominates. No one would assume that all the people claiming to be “evangelicals” in the deep south are true believers; neither would we claim that those who are, by birth, Eastern Orthodox in Romania faithful followers of their religion. In a society where one religious form dominates, minority denominations flourish, as challenges to the status quo.

2. The Search for the New Testament Church
      Both Theron and John admitted that they were attracted to their respective denominations because of their closeness to what they understand the New Testament church to have been like. John sees the Eastern Orthodox Church, with all its traditions, rituals, and icons as being a perversion of the True Church. The simple worship services and plain churches of the Baptists appear to be more in line with the early church. On the other hand, Theron’s reading of the Patristics led him to see evangelicalism’s lack of ecclesiastical authority as being far from the early church. Instead of seeing in Baptist life a picture of pristine, New Testament Christianity, he took the trail to Constantinople.

3. Sola Scriptura
      In the final analysis, the main difference between the Orthodox and evangelicals is the doctrine of sola Scriptura. John became a Baptist after reading Scripture and becoming convinced of Scripture’s authority – even over the church he had been a part of. Theron left evangelicalism once he abandoned his belief in Scripture as the final authority. “Once I reached that point, it was a fast track. That’s the house of cards. At that point, I had to find another authority.” Theron’s testimony should serve as a warning to Baptists who toy with the doctrine of sola Scriptura. Without Scripture as the final authority, Theron is right. One has to find another authority. Unfortunately, most of the people that reject sola Scriptura do not find their authority in the Roman Catholic or Orthodox Church. They prop themselves up as the authority and head down the road of Protestant Liberalism. When sola Scriptura goes, it’s a “fast track” in most cases to liberalism.

4. What the Eastern Orthodox Can Learn from Evangelicals
      One of the major problems facing the Eastern Orthodox, especially in countries where it is the state religion, is religious apathy. Evangelicals in these countries are vibrant and passionate about their faith. Baptists like John are seeking to convert their friends, often with tears and pleading. The Eastern Orthodox would do well to renew the fervor among their own church members, converting their own flock – many of whom never darken the door of the church.
      The liturgy of an Orthodox worship services stresses God’s transcendance, often to the point of making God seem distant and aloof. A renewal of the liturgy and an emphasis on the personal “relationship” aspect preached by evangelicals would help church members to a more biblical view of the God we worship.

5. What Evangelicals Can Learn from the Orthodox
      Evangelicals should admire the stability of the Orthodox Church, even if we disagree with the church structure and emphasis on tradition. We are too often moving from one fad to the next, in a never-ending merry-go-round of “the next big thing!” These fads are not only distracting, but they hurt our witness to those around us.
      If the Orthodox can learn from the “immanence of God” shown in evangelical worship, surely we can learn to show the “transcendence of God” in worship. Too often, God is presented as a best friend, a life coach, a buddy to have in time of need. We need the picture of God in His majesty and holiness that an Eastern Orthodox service provides. We should be trying to strike a biblical, healthy balance between these two.

Yesterday, I interviewed a former Southern Baptist who has converted to Eastern Orthodoxy. Today I am interviewing a former Eastern Orthodox believer who has become Baptist. Tomorrow, we will look at the parallels between the two accounts and hopefully better understand these two traditions and why people are converting from one to the other.

John’s Story: Why I Left Eastern Orthodoxy for Evangelicalism

      John is a Romanian man in his late fifties who is no stranger to the Eastern Orthodox Church. He was born into a family of Orthodox Christians, in a society where church and state often mix in unhealthy ways. Romanian Orthodoxy is the state religion, meaning that almost everyone born in Romania is already considered a member of the Orthodox church, regardless of devotion or belief.

      John’s grandparents were faithful leaders in the Orthodox church. The Orthodox priest was one of the most important people in the village in which John grew up. John’s family was considered “devout” and “religious” by the priest and the rest of the community. Though the church building was just four houses down the street from his, John rarely attended. “I usually went to the midnight Easter vigil,” he recalls. “A few days before Easter, I would go confess my sins to the local priest. But this had no effect on me. When I walked out of a church service, I was the same as before.”

      John was baptized into the church when he was six weeks old. Later, he and his wife were married in the Orthodox Church. As John tells me about these years, I sense he resents the past. It is clear that he sees his youth as a wasted part of his life, and he is upset that the priest never taught him the truth about God. “The priest never confronted us in our sins,” he says, with a mixture of grief and anger. “I didn’t have a Bible, but no one encouraged me to read one anyway.”

      In his early twenties, John became active in the Communist party in Romania. One evening, he was on assignment to visit one of the Baptist churches and to see how many of the “repenters” (as they were derogatorily called) were present. He was also told to ask the Baptists questions about why they were attending churches other than the Orthodox Church. “I had no intention of converting to evangelicalism,” he says. “But when I heard the Word of God preached for the first time, and the concept of repentance and being ‘born again,’ I was touched. I realized that I had never truly repented of my sins. Here I would go to the Orthodox Church, cross myself, kiss an icon one moment and despise God the next. I realized that the Orthodox church was a societal organization that had taught me nothing.” So John decided to “follow Jesus” and turn away from his sinful past.

      John’s family reacted harshly. His wife thought he had gone crazy. His parents told him he was bringing shame upon the whole family. The Communist party began to put pressure on him to give up his newfound faith and continue to be involved in their atheistic agenda.

      The pressure from all sides to give up his new identity was overwhelming. “I would have caved had I not begun reading the Bible the Baptists had given me,” John says with a smile. “As I began reading Scripture, I understood Jesus to be the only way to God. I realized I did not need the Orthodox church or even a priest to be my mediator, for Jesus was the mediator between me and the Father.”

      Though John does not use the term, it is clear from his testimony that he had acquired an unshakable belief in the Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura. “I realized that the Bible was the authority, even over the Church. The Bible was true, and the Church with all its traditions and rituals was wrong.”

      “How did you adjust to the different beliefs between the Baptist church and the Orthodox church,” I ask, looking over my list of differing views.

      John explains how he quickly left behind former Orthodox doctrines that he had been taught in church. The intercession of the saints and Mary on behalf of Christians on earth was easily rejected. “That isn’t in the Bible,” he says, without further elaboration. Shortly thereafter, he rejected the Orthodox doctrine of infant baptism. “My baptism when I was 6 weeks old was not a true baptism. Scripture teaches that the one who believes is the one who should be baptized.”

      John’s view of salvation changed dramatically as well. As he delved into Paul’s epistles, primarily to the Romans and Ephesians, John came to understand salvation as a gift from God through faith alone, not through good deeds. “My understanding had always been that to be saved, you had to do a certain amount of good works. Paul said we are dead in sins. So I began to ask myself, ‘How can a dead person do good works?’”

      “Are you saying that the Orthodox Church preaches salvation by good works?” I ask. John nods in agreement. “That’s all I knew anyway.” He acknowledges that Orthodox doctrine might contradict Orthodox practice in some places, but for John, it’s in practice that one shows what is truly believed.

      “How did your family get over their condemnation of your newfound faith?” I wonder aloud. John smiles and begins to get visibly excited. He tells me how his family could deny his new beliefs, but none could deny the visible change in his lifestyle. “I stopped getting drunk, stopped smoking, stopped cursing. I began reading my Bible, going to church, praying. I had been born again,” he says. Within months, his wife, parents, and even his 80-year-old grandmother who had been a mainstay of the village Orthodox church, had all converted, as a direct result of his testimony.

      “How sure are you that you made the right decision?” I ask.

      “I am totally sure, based on the authority of God’s Word alone,” he replies firmly, again appealing to the sola scriptura principle.

      “What would you say if someone were to convert from evangelicalism to Eastern Orthodoxy?” I challenge. John is visibly taken aback by the question. His response comes quickly. “In all my years, I’ve never heard of such a thing.” I begin to explain what it is like in other countries, where Eastern Orthodoxy is a minority and the evangelical tradition dominates. John admits he cannot conceive of Orthodoxy as a minority; neither can he come up with a reason why one would leave a “life-giving relationship with God for a ‘dead’ church.”

      ”But can there be true believers who decide to remain within the Orthodox church?” I ask, pointing to the Romanian renewal movement “Army of God” within the Orthodox Church that emphasized many of the same doctrines as evangelicalism. John shakes his head, sadly but firmly. “An Orthodox Christian that is truly born again would realize that the church is wrong and would turn to evangelicalism.” For John, coming to Christ and joining an evangelical church are two sides of the same coin.

      Ironically, the very assumption John despises in the Orthodox Church (that there is no salvation outside the Orthodox Church) is the same assumption he has made regarding evangelicalism. “The Baptist church is the true Church that is following the teachings of Jesus and the apostles,” he affirms, though admitting the presence of believers in Pentecostal, Brethren, and other evangelical denominations.

      “Do you seek to convert your Orthodox family and friends?” I ask, already somewhat expectant of what his answer will be.

      “I have pleaded for the past thirty years with my Orthodox friends to come to Christ and know Him personally,” John says, with tears in his eyes. “My Orthodox friends confess Christ with their mouths, but they do not know Him in their hearts. I try to convert people, because I believe the Orthodox Church is wrong and is leading people astray.”

      “What about pious Orthodox Christians? Those who do not live sinful lives? Those who remain faithful to the church and who trust in Christ for salvation?” I press him further.

      “Religiosity does not mean salvation,” he replies. “People can be sincere and still be sincerely wrong. The Orthodox Church feeds on tradition, not on Scripture. If Orthodox believers would read Scripture without it being interpreted for them by the Church, they would discover the truth,” he adds.

      John’s reliance on Scripture is evident. All throughout the interview, John has been backing up his statements with verses he has committed to memory. He rarely gives me an answer without a Scriptural reference or justification.

      I thank John for his time, and then ask him to sum up the biggest difference between Orthodox Christians and Baptists. He pauses for a moment, looks at me intently, and says, “Baptists preach that ‘You must be born again.’”

Why do we see a growing number of evangelicals in the West converting to Eastern Orthodoxy (Francis Schaeffer’s son, for example)? Why do we see a mirror image overseas in predominantly Eastern Orthodox countries, where more and more convert to evangelical Christianity? Today I am interviewing a former Southern Baptist who has converted to Orthodoxy. Tomorrow I will be interviewing a former Eastern Orthodox believer who has become Baptist. On Friday, we will look at the parallels between the two accounts and hopefully better understand these two traditions, and why people are converting from one to the other.

Theron’s Story: Why I Left Evangelicalism for Eastern Orthodoxy

Theron Mathis is an unassuming, soft-spoken man in his thirties with a winsome manner and a pleasant smile. His story begins in the buckle of the Bible belt. Both he and his wife grew up in a conservative Baptist churches, his wife’s being Landmarkist in theology (meaning it holds the belief that the Baptist Church is the only true church.) He attended college at Liberty University, a hub for Christianity that leans right both theologically and politically. He attended two Southern Baptist seminaries (Southeastern and Southern) in the late 1990′s, and at one point, felt called to be a Baptist preacher.

“What was the first thing that triggered your attraction to Orthodoxy?” I asked. Theron looks puzzled, as if he’s trying to recall what initially made him curious. After a few moments of silence, he answers: “Church history. Studying the patristics.” Frustrated by constant debates over the meaning of Scripture, Theron decided to look back into church history to see what the church looked like in the early centuries. As he read the church fathers, he realized, “the church back then looked different than the Baptist church I grew up in.” From there, Theron began wondering if that early church he saw in the fathers’ writings still existed anywhere.

Eventually, one central issue brought him to the doorstep of the Eastern Orthodox church. “The issue of authority,” he explains. “I felt I was flying by the seat of my pants as a Christian. I would read Scripture and come to conclusions myself. At some point, I felt I had to submit myself to some authority outside of myself.”

The issue of authority led Theron to question the Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura. “I felt like with sola scriptura, I was the authority.” Shortly thereafter, Theron came to see sola scriptura as deficient. “Once I reached that point, it was a fast track. That’s the house of cards. At that point, I had to find another authority.”

“Why Eastern Orthodoxy and not Catholicism?” I ask, wondering why he would choose the Orthodox church as his authority and not the Roman Catholic church. Theron tells me he couldn’t swallow the whole “pope thing,” especially papal infallibility. Nor could he stomach the arrogance of the Roman Catholic church in adjusting the Nicene Creed without the consent of the Eastern church. “The typical Orthodox apologetics,” he grins.

With the Eastern Orthodox Church as his new authority, Theron began accepting doctrines foreign to his Baptist background. “How hard was it to accept these doctrines?” I ask, beginning to read a list.

Praying to saints? Easier than expected, once he understood the Orthodox view of the saints interceding for us much like our friends on earth lift us up in prayer.

Mary? “A little tougher, because the phraseology in the liturgy sometimes made me think they were seeing her as something more than a simple intercessor. But I’ve been able reconcile that over time.”

Icons? Not tough at all. They are aids to worship, not items to be worshipped, yet Theron admits that there may possibly be misconceptions among Orthodox laypeople, especially outside the U.S.

The Eucharist becoming the actual body and blood of Christ? “That was pretty easy. Even apart from the Church, you could come to that conclusion from Scripture.”

Infant baptism was the biggest hurdle for Theron, due to his Baptist background and family traditions. In the end, he sees the Orthodox view as not too far from the covenantal view of some Reformed traditions. “The child is becoming a part of the church.”

But what about the most important doctrine – justification by faith? “If you ask an Orthodox person, everyone will say we are saved by grace,” he says categorically.

“But by grace alone?” I probe deeper.

“Yes, by grace alone. But we wouldn’t say through faith alone if we are defining faith as mere belief.” Theron recoils from the easy-believism of his early Baptist experience. “You prayed a prayer. Just the assent to belief gave you your ticket.” Theron compares his Orthodox doctrine with the evangelical belief of “lordship salvation.” He admits that the categories are different. The Orthodox do not see salvation in forensic, legal categories, but in medical terms.

Theron’s conversion to Orthodoxy was a struggle. His parents and in-laws were grieved by the family’s decision. He lost friends from seminary. But for Theron and his wife, there was no turning back. “I had embraced Orthodoxy,” he said.

“How do you view Baptists now?” I ask. “Are Baptists saved?”

Ironically, though Theron thought the Landmarkist position of his Baptist church laughable, he answers with a similar view regarding Orthodoxy. “We definitely consider ourselves the True church. We believe in apostolic succession.” He clarifies, “We believe there is salvation outside of the Eastern Orthodox church, but we have the fullness of the revelation.”

“How sure are you that you’ve made the right decision?” I ask.

Theron reponds quickly, “I would never turn back. I’m 100% sure, and the longer I’m Orthodox, the more certain I am about it.”

“But what about those who convert the other way?” I reply. “Orthodox becoming Baptists?”

Theron shrugs and looks surprised, “I think they didn’t have a good understanding of Orthodoxy.”

I begin sharing stories of Orthodox priests I knew in Romania who would threaten the children attending evangelical AWANA clubs, even vowing to “cut off their fingers.” When I ask his opinion regarding this persecution of Baptists, he looks surprised and calls the priests’ actions “exaggerated.” He refuses to condone such behavior, but at the same time, he sympathizes with their need to “defend” the faith. “They probably view Baptists like you and I would view Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses. These are people coming to their country and ‘destroying the faith,’ so they will do anything possible to defend it. I can see where that mindset comes from.”

Though Theron is a convinced Orthodox believer, he does not try to convert his Baptist friends. He presents Eastern Orthodoxy and leaves it at that. But he does seek to convert nominal Christians or those who are not Christian at all.

“Though your liturgy is beautiful, isn’t it pretty much inaccessible to non-Christians?” I ask, wondering what it would be like for an unchurched person to enter an Eastern Orthodox church for the first time. Definitely not seeker sensitive. Theron questions my presupposition. “Who says the worship of the church is to be evangelistic?” He then points to early church history. “They wouldn’t let unbelievers in the worship service, or if they did, they asked them to leave mid-way through (before the Eucharist).”

Theron admits that the Orthodox church doesn’t reach as many unchurched people as they should, but then adds, ” I don’t know if any church in America does a great job reaching totally unchurched people.”

Why would an evangelical convert to Eastern Orthodoxy? Theron has two answers. The first is stability. “Within the evangelical world, you’re always looking for the new thing, you’re always reinventing the wheel. A lot of people are ready to get off that. So stability is a huge attraction for evangelicals who convert.”

The second reason is spirituality. “That’s what keeps me there. The church life throughout the year,” he says.

Our time is coming to an end. The biggest difference between Southern Baptists and Eastern Orthodox is the view of salvation. Theron admits that many laypeople in the Orthodox church believe that salvation is by good works. So, I press him again.

“Is salvation based on Christ’s work alone?”

Theron answers, “Oh yes! Without Christ, it’s impossible. He’s the one who opened the door!”

“But is there any other ground? Can I be accepted by God because of Christ and something I did?” I press further.

“Works are an expression of faith,” replies Theron. “The act of works is the act of putting on Christ. They’re opening yourself up so that God’s grace can transform you more into Christlikeness.”

Sensing we’re talking past one another, I put it another way, “When it comes down to it… when you’re looking to your justification before God and your acceptance before Him, does it eventually boil down to this: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner!’?”

“Yes,” says Theron. “Absolutely.”

1. If you don’t vote, you can’t complain when you don’t like what the government’s doing.

2. To be a good citizen of heaven, you need to exercise your duties as good citizens of earth.

3. Scripture says the government has biblically-grounded authority. In a republic, the people have a choice in who runs the government. When you vote, you are exercising God-given authority.

4. It’s fun to pull the little lever.

5. Voting for the lesser of two evils is better than not voting at all.

We continue our Red Letter MonDays series on the Lord’s Prayer. See previous posts here and here.

 “Hallowed be Your Name.“- Jesus, The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9) 

Once Jesus had taught His disciples to pray to God as “Father,” He added what seems at first sight to be a simple statement of praise. “May Your Name be made holy.” Yet, this phrase reveals a deeper nuance often missing in our prayers.

Praising God means more than just saying, “God, I praise You” or even, “Lord, we glorify Your Name.” Our personal praise must indeed be a part of our prayer life, but the request for God to be glorified must spread beyond our own words. Jesus does not teach us here that we should lift up God’s name at all. The words “we” or “I” don’t even appear. Likewise, the verb translated “hallowed” is not in the first person, meaning we do not by ourselves, hallow God’s Name.

The phrase “Hallowed be Your Name” means: “God, may all creation make Your Name holy.” When we lift up our hearts in prayer, we are to cry out, “Father, may the whole world resound with praises to You!” The adoration does not end with us. God’s glory far exceeds the bare praises we bring before Him personally. After we approach God as “Father,” Jesus tells us to pray that His Name be revered.Thus we can pray: Hallowed be Your Name among the stars and the heavens! Hallowed be Your Name in the animal kingdom, among every living creature on earth! May Your Name be declared holy upon the clouds, hilltops, the mountains that bow down and the seas that roar at the sound of Your Name! Hallowed be Your Name even among those who don’t know You, those in suffering, persecution, and anguish! Hallowed be Your Name in Iraq, the Gaza Strip, in Sudan, Madrid. Hallowed be Your Name in the places where evil seems to be reigning!
 

Our hearts should be overflowing with the prayer that our world would find freedom from sin, death, and evil. Jesus challenges us to learn prayer on the cosmic scale. In addition to our personal praises, we must desire the honor of God’s name by all creation, that all mankind will be able to call Him “Father.”

Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth,
       Set up Your kingdom in our midst.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God,
       Have mercy on us, sinners.
Holy Spirit, Breath of the Living God,
       Renew us and all the world.
                    Amen.- (prayer composed by N.T. Wright)