Big Buts of the Bible

“This, then, is how you should pray: ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name…’” — Matthew 6:9

Prayer often begins where life hurts.

Sometimes we come to God with fear. Sometimes with exhaustion. Sometimes with questions we can’t answer or burdens we no longer know how to carry. And sometimes we come with no words at all.

Before Jesus teaches His disciples what to pray, He reminds them whom they’re praying to.

Our Father…

Those two words change everything.

They remind us that prayer isn’t primarily a religious exercise. It isn’t about impressing God with eloquent words or proving our spiritual maturity. In fact, Jesus begins this entire section by warning against doing religious things simply to be noticed by other people.

Prayer isn’t a performance. It’s a conversation.

And conversations begin with relationships.

For some people, calling God “Father” brings immediate comfort. For others, it raises painful memories.

Not every earthly father reflected the love, patience, protection, or gentleness God intended. Some were absent. Some were harsh. Some wounded the very children they were called to nurture. It’s one reason phrases like father wounds resonate so deeply with so many people today.

Jesus wasn’t inviting His followers to project the shortcomings of human fathers onto God. He was inviting them to discover what true fatherhood has always looked like.

The Bible consistently presents our heavenly Father as the One who pursues His children, provides for them, disciplines them in love, forgives them, comforts them, strengthens them, and never abandons them.

The standard for fatherhood isn’t found in humanity. It’s found in God.

That means every good father reflects Him. Not the other way around.

Then Jesus adds another phrase:

“…in heaven, hallowed be Your name.”

The prayer balances intimacy with reverence. God is not merely a distant ruler to be feared. Neither is He merely a familiar companion to be taken lightly.

He is both Father and King. Close enough to hear every whispered prayer. Holy enough to deserve our deepest awe.

Only after establishing that relationship does Jesus begin making requests.

“Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our debts… Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.“

Notice the order.

Before Jesus teaches us to ask for anything, He teaches us to seek Someone. Everything else flows from that relationship.

Even forgiveness.

Jesus closes this section with one of the most sobering statements in the Sermon on the Mount:

“But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

Those words can feel unsettling. Especially for people already carrying shame.

Jesus isn’t teaching that we earn God’s forgiveness by perfectly forgiving everyone else. Scripture consistently teaches that forgiveness is a gift of God’s grace, received through faith—not a wage we earn through flawless behavior.

Instead, Jesus is exposing something deeper.

A heart that has truly received God’s forgiveness cannot remain untouched by it. We forgive because we’ve been forgiven. Not perfectly. Not instantly.

Sometimes forgiving another person is a long journey rather than a single moment. Especially when the wounds run deep.

But God’s grace has a way of softening hearts that once seemed incapable of letting go.

The point of this entire section isn’t simply giving. Or praying. Or fasting. Or even forgiving.

It’s living a life that has been fundamentally changed by the Father we now know. Because when you know the Father’s heart…

You begin to reflect it.

A Thought to Carry With You

Perhaps today you don’t need more impressive prayers. Perhaps you simply need to remember who is listening. 

The One inviting you to pray is not waiting to be convinced to love you. He already does. He is your Father. And before you ask Him for anything…He invites you simply to come.