A Year Of Humility (XXXIV): Thy Kingdom Come

 "Thy Kingdom come,
Thy Will be done,
On earth as it is in Heaven." - Matthew 6:10

The Lord's Prayer is probably one of the earliest prayers I ever learned, outside of a bedroom prayer that we said every night.  It has, over the years, had greater and lesser repetition in my prayer lexicon:  some churches (mainline Protestant) recited it every service, other (non-denominational) occasionally or even not at all, reserving it for sermons on "How to pray like Jesus".  But it remains there, embedded in my mind, a plaque on the wall of my inner sanctum like the 10 Commandments that were posted on either side of the altar in the Episcopalian church of my youth.

"Thy Kingdom Come". That is a phrase that just sort of rolls of the tongue in this prayer, wedged in between the Hallowed-ness of God and our day sustenance and forgiving others, things that would seem to be far more relevant to our daily lives.  And how often have I muttered those words and just thought "Wow, if God's kingdom came and His will would be done, that would just be...swell."

I wonder, do we truly understand what that means?

For myself, God's Will (as revealed in His word, the sermons and writings of His servants, and that occasional nudge of His Spirit) is not something I am always so good at obeying.  I can often treat it as optional or even outright ignore it.  But that is not what Jesus says:  Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.

How is it done in Heaven? Immediately.  Completely. Without the option of holding back or thought of cost to self.

Do I want that?  Do I really want that?

Sure, it is easy enough to think that I would love to see that upon evil, upon the sin in the world, on those who abuse and mock Him.    At some point, says the New Testament, every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord.  Ah, says the lesser part of my self, the vindication.

But what about me in that moment?

Do I confess Him as Lord?  I do, or at least I believe I do to the best of my ability. But then comes the question "Why do you confess me as Lord and do not do what I ask?"  The question was leveled at the Israelites more than once and by Jesus as well (Luke 6:46) ; it should equally be leveled at me.

Am I quick to obey?  Do I pivot as soon as asked?  Do I act selflessly when asked to follow or act?  Or do I try to negotiate with God about what obedience means and how far I have to obey and if a thing can be put off entirely?

Thy will be done, indeed.