Reflections on the Lord's Prayer, Part 5: “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

When we hear, “not my will, but yours be done,” our minds usually go to Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane: “Father,” Jesus prayed, “If you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). This is submission at its finest. Jesus knew that what he wanted was different from what the Father wanted, and so he chose to submit his will to the Father's.

With Jesus as our model, we might suddenly feel uncomfortable with this petition. Can we honestly pray, “your will be done,” even if God's will for us involves suffering and even death?This is hard, to be sure. But it's important to see that this petition isn't fatalistic or just resigning yourself to your fate. This petition gives us strength. Jesus chose the cross when he chose to say “not my will, but yours.” When we pray the third petition, we are volunteering to go wherever, do whatever, and endure whatever God may have in mind for us. He doesn't force his will upon us, but invites us to be part of it. He is still our Father—his will is firmly grounded in his love. If we trust him as Father, we will also trust him to lead us through the valleys of the spiritual life.

Submitting to God means being a “living sacrifice” as mentioned in Romans 12: “offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God...do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is, his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (v. 1-2). When we submit to God but refusing the world, we are able to know his will. The concept of a “living sacrifice” wouldn't have made much sense to Paul's audience at first. When an animal is sacrificed, it is always killed—that's what makes it a sacrifice. But we're not called to lay down our lives just once to God's will; we do it continuously, every day. A popular concept in Christian culture is that we want Jesus to “take the wheel” of our lives. But I don't think that is really the biblical picture of “Your will be done.” A better image, to continue the car metaphor, is that Jesus sits in the passenger seat, giving directions, asking us to trust him. At every turn, we make a choice whether or not we will obey.

Sometimes I wish Jesus would just take the wheel. I know all too well my sinful, disobedient tendencies. I'd rather not have to throw myself on the altar day after day. But my Father is teaching me, and I won't learn if he does everything for me. And so, daily, I must pray “your will be done,” take up my cross, and follow him.