Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
May 10, 2020
Scripture Reading
Matthew 6:1-13
1 “Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.
2 “Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. 3 But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4 so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
5 “And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites. For they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. 6 But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
7 “And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. 8 Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. 9 Pray then like this:
“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
10 Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
11 Give us this day our daily bread,
12 and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
We’re spending six weeks teaching through the Lord’s Prayer from Matthew’s gospel, which divides nicely into six shorter phrases or sentences. This morning, we focus on the sentence in v. 11, “Give us today our daily bread.” We’ve called the series “Lord, Teach Us to Pray” because when Luke introduces this same prayer, it’s the disciples who had come to Jesus asking that he teach them to pray. And this prayer, which we often call The Lord’s Prayer, is what he taught us to pray.
You might have noticed this already, but I’ll highlight it anyway as we begin. Like the 10 Commandments, the beginning of the Lord’s Prayer is all about God. First, we begin the prayer by addressing our Father. And then we pray to the one who is in heaven—the place of authority and power. Like speaking of a President in the Oval Office, heaven is the command center or throne room of the universe. And we pray that God’s name, not ours, would be hallowed. That means we pray for all to see the character, worth, and value of God. And then we pray that his will, not our will, would be done on earth the way God’s will is done in heaven. This means we pray for justice and equality and truth and peace to abound in the kingdom of God on earth in the way that peace and justice abounds where God dwells in heaven.
These are lofty prayers. But they are the kind of prayers we might expect to be told to pray in the sense that if we pray to God, shouldn’t we spend time praying about God—how great and wonderful he is? Of course we should. But some of you, if you were honest, you would think that these types of prayers might be the only kinds of prayers we should pray. If a prayer is to “count,” if our prayers are to have the ear our Father, then we should only pray about him, that is, overtly about God the Father.
But not so. Jesus tells us to pray about our needs, our struggles, our temptations, our fears. The first three clauses of the Lord’s Prayer are about the Lord. The next three are about us.
Many in the early church were so dumbfounded that God would teach us to pray about the needs of our life, that in the first few centuries of the church it was common to allegorize the prayer for daily bread to somehow be about the Lord’s Supper. Indeed the Vulgate translation of the Bible, which was a key translation of the Bible into Latin for over 1,000 years, actually made that interpretation overt, the interpretation that daily bread was about the Lord’s Supper. In the 1500s, John Calvin said of those early, allegorical interpretations, “This is exceedingly absurd.”[1] The point being, as shocking as it is, God cares about our needs. He wants to hear them.
1. Aware of our daily sins
As the conversation about the Coronavirus has consumed the media and much of our daily conversations, we’re told to wash our hands often. And we’ve also been told not to touch our face. You’ve heard this, right? How well have you done at not touching your face? I think many people, having been told not to touch their face, have had the experience of realizing how much we actually do touch our face now that we’re told to be paranoid about it. The constant reminder has shown us how bad we are at it and how difficult it is to do—or in this case, not do.
I bring this up because, in a similar way, when we pray for daily bread, we are made aware of our sin. Specifically, as we pray daily for our daily bread, the prayer exposes our boasting, our ingratitude, and our selfish individualism. Let me say a few things about each.
Praying for daily bread exposes our boasting. What do I mean?
A month ago, a politician was speaking of the flattening of the curve, related to the rate of infection, and how our efforts are working. The politician said, “God didn’t do that. We did that. We flattened the curve by our lockdowns; we did it by our doctors and policymakers and scientists.” I’m paraphrasing. Then he said, “If I want to lose five pounds, I eat less and exercise more. And if I have a calorie deficit, then I make myself lose weight. God doesn’t do that. I do. And we are the ones flattening the curve.” Again, I’m paraphrasing.[2] What do you think about that? And what does all that have to do with praying for our daily bread?
Well, in some ways, the politician is right. We do have to do stuff. The prayer about daily bread wasn’t a prayer prayed by a lazy farmer who expected his crops to plant themselves and harvest themselves. We have to do that. We study for exams. We pull a calorie deficit. We clock in at the office. We do the laundry. We write the sermon.
But the purely secular analysis that “we, and we alone, did that,” is superficial. It doesn’t press deep enough. “We, and we alone, did that” is sinful boasting.
Consider a passage from the sermon Moses gave to God’s people before God gave them the Promised Land. Right after Moses said that man doesn’t live by bread alone, he reminds God’s people not to boast about the prosperity they experience in the Promised Land. Moses says,
17 Beware lest you say in your heart, “My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.” 18 You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your fathers, as it is this day. (Deuteronomy 8:17–18)
Verse 18 is the verse I want to key on. “You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth.” If we flattened the curve, where did we get the ingenuity to do that? How did medicine progress over the last 150 years to the point that we could think so wisely about sickness? Who has prospered America in such exceptional ways? Well, we work hard, and we work smart. Sure, many Americans work hard and smart. But where does that ability come from? Why is your heart beating right now? Who is giving your brain it’s brain waves? Who provides your lungs with air? A pandemic should show us how fragile we are, not how independent we are.
In the New Testament, we read of business leaders who arrogantly boasted about the way they would go and do such and such and make such and such a profit. The planning and profit were not problems. We should plan, and profit is good. The problem was the arrogance that assumes you keep the world spinning. The passage I’m talking about is James 4. After the author describes the arrogance of these leaders, he asks, “[Y]ou do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’ As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil” (James 4:14–16).
Jesus teaches us to pray for daily bread as a reminder that unless God is the one who provides, we have no hope.
Praying for daily bread also exposes our ingratitude. What do I mean?
I think ingratitude is a sin we don’t preach about much. Evangelical churches are known for our discussion of the supposedly more flagrant sins, at least as we often conceive of them, but what of ingratitude? Each day he gives you life and breath and shelter and more—much more!—and yet we rarely, if ever, do we say thank you.
It’s like each morning if I grabbed $100 off the kitchen table to spend and day after day never stopped to ask, How did this money get there? Where does air come from? Where do the rain and sun come from that we need to grow crops? Does the Air Fairy bring air? Does this come from the Sun Fairy or the Rain Fairy? Praying for daily bread exposes our ungratefulness.
Praying for daily bread also exposes our selfish individualism. What do I mean?
Notice it says, “our daily bread,” just as the passage says, “our Father,” “Give us,” “forgive us,” “lead us,” and “deliver us.” Here, I’m reminded of something Ben said as we were preaching through Acts last fall. It’s not that the church is like a family; we are a family. We are a family because we have one Father—our Father. And the prayer for us to have daily bread should cause us to think about how others might also need daily bread. It’s a call to remember to pray for our needs, but also for our brothers and sisters. Is there someone you know who needs your help? There are 1.8 million Pennsylvanians out of work. Will you pray for them? Will you send a text message? After church is over, who do you need to call? If you let yourself think and pray for just a moment, I’m sure the Lord will bring someone to mind.
When we’re told not to touch our face, we realize pretty quickly how often we do that. And as we pray the Lord’s prayer, we realize pretty quickly we have physical needs and spiritual needs we can’t satisfy. We are a mist that appears and vanishes. And praying for our daily bread should cause us to realize how much we need God.
But that’s not all we realize. As we pray for daily bread, we also become aware of God’s daily grace.
2. Aware of God’s daily grace
To say it another way, praying for daily bread deepens our relationship with the baker, the one who provides the daily bread. Look again at vv. 7–8.
7 And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. 8 Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
Some people read these verses in isolation from the broader context. They read these verses and make the logical leap that prayer is a waste of time. Why pray when God already knows what we need? What kind of cruel God would know we need something but demand to be asked before he’ll give it? There is a certain logic to that conclusion, but the view that God is cruel can only come if you put your hands over the rest of the Bible and only see v. 8.
Praying for daily bread is not the demand of a cruel God. It’s his invitation to be in a relationship with the baker, the one who loves us and cares for us. He’s not a Bread Fairy content to provide and be ignored. And that’s good for us, because better than bread is to know the baker—he wants to know you. God invites you to share struggles with him. Are you hurting for friendship? If that’s the daily bread you need, pray. Tell God about your struggle. He wants to hear it. Are you hurting for money because your work has been curtailed? Pray. God wants to know what you are struggling with.
And when we pray for daily bread and as we get to know the baker, we get to know how cheerful of a giver he is. In 2 Corinthians 9:7, as Paul is instructing the church about the giving of tithes, he said,
7 Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.
Have you ever thought about why, why God loves a cheerful giver? It’s because cheerful giving reminds the world of him. God loves to give. In fact, the religious leaders set themselves up in opposition to God, and prayed and gave and fasted, all done so that people would love them, and God is so kind that he even gives his enemies what they want. Twice we read in this passage, they received their reward in full (6:2, 5). God let them have it.
If God will do that for enemies—feeding and clothing and answering the heart longings of the lost—how much more so will he give cheerfully to his children? If Jesus died for our sins, taking our punishment, and then he rose again, and he ascends to the throne of the universe, and his faithful children ask him for help, how much will he not more so delight to give us our daily bread? God is a cheerful giver.
My youngest son is almost three. Recently, he’s taken to helping me walk out to my car in the morning as I leave to work. My toddler likes to help carry my coffee and put it in the car cupholder for me. I like to let him. One day this week it was raining, and he was in his socks. I started to leave, and my son kept yelling at me that he wanted to help. I was carrying my coffee. So I handed him my coffee, picked him up, and carried him out the door as he carried my coffee so he wouldn’t get his socks wet. Not the most efficient, but he was with me, and I was with him. And I smiled the whole way to work.
That’s what God does. If you look into chapter 7:7–11, you see that God calls himself a good Father who loves to give his children good things. As you and I pray for daily bread, learn to pray with humility not arrogance, pray with thanksgiving not ingratitude, and pray for others not selfishly. But also pray knowing that, if you are a Christian, God, our Heavenly Father is cheerful and loves us.
[1] Quoted in John Stott, The Message of the Sermon on the Mount, 149
[2] “Governor Cuomo: Flattening the curve is working, but we can’t let up,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PELri597aC4.
