Glory

Not too long ago Evan and I were in a Presbyterian church for a funeral. As we sat in the congregation, he leaned over to me before the service started to remind me that “trespasses” and “trespass” in the Lord’s Prayer were replaced with “debts” and “debtors”.

On Christmas Eve I find myself spellbound listening to the broadcast of the Lessons and Carols service at King’s College in Cambridge, England. One of the moments that most captivates me comes when the congregation prays the Lord’s Prayer with distinct differences: “Our Father, which art in heaven,” (not who art in heaven) “in earth as it is in heaven,” (not on earth) and “as we forgive them that trespass against us” (not those).

On Thursday mornings during Centering Prayer we end our twenty minutes of resting in God’s presence with the Lord’s Prayer. Sometimes as we speak those words slowly and intentionally I forget a phrase, as I am wrapped up in words that have just left my mouth. If I am not careful I will not think about the words of prayer that Jesus taught his disciples and us.

At the end of the version we most often pray there is a phrase that stands out to me on this Wednesday in Holy Week: “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.” These words do not appear in our translation of Luke’s or Matthew’s telling of the Good News from which we get this prayer that is a part of our every liturgy together. It was not until 1662 that our Anglican forebears added this big finish, so from where does it originate?

Allegedly the Early Church added these words. They added them so early in fact that some of the first Gospel manuscripts carried this doxological statement. While most scholars will attest that Jesus probably did not speak these words when teaching his disciples how to pray, we still gain so much by uttering this statement that caps off the Lord’s Prayer. We are reminded at the last that it is God’s Kingdom, Power, and Glory that we seek, not our own. What does this look like though?

In today’s Gospel account we find ourselves reclining around a table with Jesus and the disciples at dusk on Maundy Thursday. In John’s telling of the story Christ Jesus through whom the entire cosmos came into being remains in control, even of his betrayal by Judas. When Jesus gives Judas the piece of bread only then does Satan enter the disciple, so that he carries out the terrible deed. Jesus even adds on, “Do quickly what you are going to do,” revealing his complete humanity alongside his entire divinity. Right as Judas leaves to betray his teacher Jesus turns the conversation to glory.

The text puts it in the following way: “When he had gone out, Jesus said, ‘Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.’” Perhaps you find this to be completely normal, but I see this connection as completely paradoxical! Betrayal glorifies God? Judas’ action to go out to hand over Jesus is the way in which God will glorify both the Father and the Son? How can this be?

We live in a self-glorifying age, and if I am not careful I fall victim to self-aggrandizing feelings, actions, and thoughts. Sometimes those of us who profess faith in God attempt to clothe our showy behavior in a shroud of false humility. One example immediately pops into my mind: well-intending athletes who after scoring a touchdown point up to heaven or who after winning a tournament say in an interview that God was responsible for this victory. This happens at award shows and elsewhere too in our society, but seemingly athletes exhibit this behavior most readily.

On the surface nothing is wrong with this action of turning the attention off of oneself. In fact, if it is sincere this stands out as an admirable recognition that all things stem from God. And yet, this is also where the dilemma arises. In Jesus’ words it is not a moment of triumph that is celebrated as God’s glory, but instead the darkest betrayal of all time! God’s glory is revealed not in victory or accomplishment, but in defeat and even death. Returning to our athlete analogy this would be the equivalent of striking out in the bottom of the ninth on a full count with the bases loaded in game seven of the World Series, and then pointing skyward to give God the credit. This would be like an athlete fumbling the ball on the one yard line and having it returned for a touchdown to lose the Super Bowl, and then getting down on one knee to thank God. In a world of competition the type of glory that Jesus embodies does not make sense, but to tell you the Truth trophies, gold, and recognition are not part of the Kingdom that Jesus inaugurated this week long ago.

The Son of Man, the Eternal Word, Christ Jesus came to show us the fullest extent of reality by transforming the most shameful instrument of torture into the ultimate expression of God’s love. God’s glory may best be seen in the complete failings of human beings to recognize God among us—as instead of accepting Jesus we crucified him—and still in that moment and throughout all time God says to us there is no way that we may escape God’s love. This is the glory that we pray for in the Lord’s Prayer, not a type of pride that pats us on the back, but an overwhelming love that turns the most gruesome defeat into the greatest victory of all time!